The little one.

He sleeps on a pillow his size in the corner of the room. So peaceful, so innocent, what would he be dreaming about? Is he dreaming at all?

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A little ago he looked at me. But the dim light of the lamp above me seems to be more interesting for his tiny amazed blue eyes. He was moving around, and though I tried not to pay attention to him, somehow my instincts managed to be attentive to every one of his clumsy little steps.

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The teacher was showing us different moods that can be created with music in a movie, and he reacted immediately when he heard a lullaby and started swaying slowly to the rhythm of it. Every eyes were on him with smiles drawn on their faces. I was the only one who didn’t smile. Then his sharp little voice broke into the room in joy. Everybody was so enchanted by the sound.

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Most of the time I feel the urge of covering my ears, too sharp sounds hurt me, and it’s not just because I don’t usually like those little ones, it happens to me even with the ambulance or the train’s brake.

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Truth is, when there are little ones around me my senses come alert, I feel completely out of place, it’s like they don’t belong to the world that I do… or maybe, just maybe, it’s me the one who doesn’t belong to the world that they do.

Intruders.

What’s going on?

What’s happening here?

There are two more people in this room that were never meant to be here.

It feels strange.

I don’t have my privacy anymore.

I have to start changing clothes in the bathroom.

I cannot do whatever I want, not anymore.

I cannot have my own food without sharing.

I cannot sleep naked anymore.

I cannot listen to music out loud.

I feel weird and watched every time I write.

I cannot open and close the windows or curtains as I please without asking.

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I don’t like people to depend on me, and the one who stays in this room after this weekend, will.

Enemy of mine..

Enemy of mine:

It was never so important to pretend dementia.

You will suck the life out of me,

I told you I wouldn’t give up my soul

but you just won’t let go, do you?

Dear enemy of mine:

I never wanted you to exist in the first place,

and I warn you I will cling to life,

I will cling to everything to destroy you.

Smoldering, portentous, wicked.

All these things I will not do.

A game master playing me,

working me, testing me.

Sooner or later you must be ended.

Oblivion

Fearing let myself go.

Fearing let myself be caught.

Fearing give myself completely,

and suddenly go back to zero.

Avoiding feelings not to hold back.

Avoiding flying not to feel.

Avoiding dreaming not to fall.

Even when I promised myself I would open up,

scratches still run down my back.

Taking as shield the indifference.

Taking as shelter the solitude.

Rejecting my very own existence.

Drinking from the premature oblivion.

Vinilo

Music, the only one that has always fill my soul. Overwhelming emotions that runs through my veins filling every millimeter with warmth and joy. The one that makes me dance in the streets while walking. The one that makes me smile to life. The one that gives me all the strength to keep going and to see the bright side of things.

Movies, the magic itself! A world where everything can exist just by imagining it. A world you can create on your own. A very complex world, but where the inevitable nervousness at the first “Sound! Camera! Action!” until the overwhelming joy of last scene when you hear “Guys, we have a movie!”, are completely worthy.

My life with those two worlds in which evoque everything I love. In which I never stop learning and creating. In which I can be completely myself. I’ve always had the attraction for music videos, but then I watched a documentary called “Score” and there I realized what I wanted to do, what I wanted to be part of, and most of all, what I wanted to be. I want to live from films, I want to live from music. Once you’ve tasted that vibration that comes from your own music, you want it never to stop. And I won’t let it stop.

Selfishness.

Yes, I left. I did it. I chose to. I chose to pursue my dream. Is it bad? Is it so bad to think about myself?

Some people think I am selfish, I can see it in their eyes every time I talk about my plans, some others think I’m crazy because I never settle for anything, I always want more.

And it’s true: I always want more.

I have that void that needs to be fill with something more than the ordinary, but maybe I was never meant to be an ordinary girl.

People come and go, they leave their mark on us, yes they do! And we learn to love them until we are willing to give up everything for them. We also grow up, of course, every experience gifts you something, good or bad, you’ve learn a lesson. But when they decide to leave, all our world falls down.

You can expect a lot or anything from the ones you love and the ones who love you, but you are the only one that matters, loving yourself, make yourself happy, do things for you. At the end of the day we ourselves are the only ones to whom we have to answer to, and there’s nothing selfish about that. A world can’t fall apart when there is more than one reason for living.