Está por terminar. Es complicado pero no me vas a mentir, también pienso que lo fue para ti. No podría decirte que no me importa, pero creo que ya estoy cansado de repetirlo. No quiero rendirme, pero no puedo hacer más. Son tantas contrariedades que me siento tan poco humano, y también sumamente fragil. Hoy no me siento mejor persona y tendría que pensar seriamente hace cuánto es que no me siento así. Completamente extraño, pero está por terminar.
I'm afraid of becoming different. I'm fearful of one morning being another person, of thinking too much, of questioning everything and trying to get away melancholy. I'm terrified of knowing everyone, of saying hello to all those people and remembering their names, of not being timid, of being a kind and friendly person the people says I am. Of course, I am not that. I don't keep a smile on my life; neither is nice nor sexy. I am too worried about thinking all time, about the conversations with myself and the healthy practices of waking up early, reading a lot, exercise and not eat meat. What will happen to me in this way? What will I become on this road? What will I do with the vacuum of no pain? I don't want to be that handsome guy, I don't want the cute smiling I see on the mirrors every morning, I don't want to smell sweet. I don't know what is happening; I don't know what is different now. I want my obscure Mondays; I need my unsolved dramas, th...
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