It seems I've encountered myself. My mental disorder has doubled and, for a change, shuffled and get lost in a sea of nonsense. However, here I am, standing firmly, without allowing your wind push me. Without allowing your instability collapse my chaos. And so I do, by chance and improvisation, as usual. Time ago I got used to writing in draft, I force myself not to think so as not to drown in a sea of doubt and disappointment. It's easier. I do not seek you, I do not care if you get lost and I do not find you, I do not care if I stumble again, I do not care if I do not stumble. So many battles have left me bruises, maybe I'm just so tired of war, struggling in vain, it's time to let things happen.
"Detrás de este triste espectáculo de palabras, tiembla indeciblemente la esperanza de que me leas, de que no haya muerto del todo en tu memoria." Julio Cortázar.