Capa: (https://pin.it/6V0xjKH)
The branches of trees look like veins in space and the raindrops taps like tears in my window and I remember that I am, too, part of the nature. Nature is, how we know, renewable. I wonder if I could do that. Even knowing that I’ve been here a thousand times before, and like auroras, I was probably born to die in constancy.
Sometimes, it seems to me that I perceive life more than the others around me. While they’re living, day after day, going through domesticity, I am feeling the sunbeam warming my heart. I let the smell of coffee clean up my soul in the morning, and the taste of jelly dances around my tongue. Everything comes with the intensity of a tornado and it hits me like waves. Somehow, even then, I can’t feel that I am completely alive. It doesn’t look like real life. I am not being who I actually am. And then, like a knife in my neck, this question appears like a threat: who am I? I use to say that I miss being the old version of me, but suddenly, it starts to feel like this is one of that lies we tell ourselves so many times, we start believing in it. I cannot even remember who that girl was. She is nothing more than a scape of who I am today. Just part of the nature.
Por Camila Machado
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