Quien Soy Yo, No Improta

Sometimes, I never give my real name at all. Even to a friend of mine. Not that I hate my name. In fact, I love my name so much and I think my name without my body or my life wouldn't mean anything.

But who am I? What am I doing in this life?

Those questions was really matter for me until the day it becomes nothing. One day, I woke up and I realise, I've been thinking to much of what people said to me. I keep saying, that "I wouldn't care of any words that come out from stranger" or "I'll take any ctirsism as self-improvement". But I lied. I lied hardly and deeply to myslef.

I heard everything, from behind or front, and far or close. All those words are ment to me. From the people that I know to the most strangerst person that not even know one of my name. And of course, the most painful one is from the person that really close to you.

I couldn't ignore anymore. Those words grow into a pain that rooted inside me. Turn into the sharpest blade inside in me.

So, the next time people ask me to describe myself, I would just give them a smile and tell them the story they would like to hear. Beacause it won't matter anymore if I'm an angle or a devil, I couldn't change the story that they already believed in their mind.

credit: Photo by cottonbro studio from Pexels