FILE: Exit Exist
I can hear him. And I let him continue whith his mumbling, as the perfect mental picture of Miami brushes away my consciousness. That old man, who once believed that he had the ability to read my mind, even if words were left unspoken, could not cause any effect in my existence anymore. No, not any more.

Now, time gone by, years apart from my youth, I am self assured that I' ve left those memories behind and that i never intend to return to the woman that i once was. That' s step one.

The subtle art of letting it all behind, my dear friend, is something I know you have gone through as well, and i know that's why you can understand me now.
You' ve been through all this as well.

Today, and once again, I enter into my old skin, the one that used to define what i was obligated to be.
I wire my circulatory system to the bloodstream of reality, the same one i already left behind. Reluctantly i become my old self.
But then again, it was all an accident.

What I thought I had to be, ended up being just a blurry and washed up copy of someone elses dream. Step two.
You see, it all was an accident.

Now, i know that the wires will get thin; I might even run out of blood. And even the sweet flavor of the so called success I' ve achieved in the past might turn into bitter orange marmalade.

So here I go again, lighting all the candles I can get my hands on, scorching my fingers as I pray for the bitterness to go away, to hide its face from me. Hiding was always the best choice.

And so I pray and I even demand for an explanation, and end up crying my lungs out to be left alone inside my head, to be, finally free. To become what I wanted to be since i was five. Step three.

Every drop of blood I gave you, every word I kept to myself, every order I abided, and every time I had to bite my tongue not to reply...Step one again.

But then again, it was all an accident. Not to give destiny a leading role in the wires that creep underneath my skin and not letting myself think of all those unborn children my womb managed -and keeps managing- to hide away.

Womb, pride, guilt.

My very own cause and effect theory. I see a reflection and i asume it to be my own. Step zero, if that even exists.

And in the end, I had to remind myself those things that I' ve tried so hard to forget. Back to square three.

This is what I' ve become: an extension of me, a false little girl awaiting for her coming of age. A copy, an imitation. And nothing else.


This is what i am. Reluctantly, yes, I might add...