I wanted to write about everything.
It seemed too hard so I decided to forget about it.
Then, I tried to construct a life without reading or
writing,
with the aim of enjoy life as people do.
I said to myself that poetry would only cause me pain, and
it did.
It does.
When you want to write about everything, time and fingers
are your first enemy.
But nothing of what I did work.
I said that I wont write anymore if that would make the
pain leave.
But it did not.
I said I wont read anymore if that would help me understand
life better.
If I could just feel complete a day.
If I could comprehend what do the others feel.
But I did not.
So I came back to the words with my tail hidden between my
legs, as a dog.
A scared dog.
And that is what I am.
A scared dog,
Which doesn´t survive in mundane world.
Which sinks in deeper waters.
When I was a kid…I only wanted to write about everything,
and suddenly I am lost in the living maelstrom.
Yo también queríaa escribir sobre todo lo que hay, me parece muy bonito lo que dices, a lo mejor se trata de seguir escribiendo aunque no sirva para vivir ni para entenderlos, ni para entenderse, aunque no sirva.
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