You reflect, it’s you and not the light. That’s a lie of physics. You reflect, and you remain there... beautiful, concentrated. You reveal the clear and the dark, you reflect on the ice living in your eyes. You reflect the clearness of your hair. You reflect the portrait of the woman. You indicate the intermittences of the road. You reflect brightness and darkness, you appear and disappear at times. You reflect peace doesn’t matter it’s 200 kms outside. And then you look at the reflection, and then you use the power of your eyes, and then you shine.
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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