#lonery

esto se que pasara sin pena ni gloria. aun así por si alguien le interesa. llevo desde que inicio mi pubertad hasta hoy en día como Ermitaño. salgo, ir a la escuela/trabajo, volver a casa. omitiendo el periodo del coronapaluzza. hasta la semana pasado. con casi 30 años me estoy arrepiento. las pocas amistades que eh tenido terminaron arruinado y tengo bastante inseguridad para renovar.

[es]Por favor, permitidme dormir... en este capullo de soledad

Ten years. So much time, yet so fleeting. Now, about to turn thirty, I said I would do a lot of things, but in the end, I did nothing, partly due to my own insecurity, partly due to external pressure.

Even so, I've experienced things that marked me: disloyalty, betrayals, loves with feet of clay, etc., etc. I'm torn between repairing the mask of a good person or surrendering to my deepest darkness. "Autistic people are little angels, they live in a world without worries or evil"… Me, with all the sadness, hatred, and resentment from the depths of my heart.

A year after finishing high school, I was adrift. I had more or less decided which path I wanted to follow, but between a significant financial loss and passive-aggressive comments from my parents, I tore off those wings and decided to study something that was in demand where I live. For a while, things were going well. Sometimes I have breakdowns, but everything changed when someone approached me. At first, we got along well, sharing conversations, lunch on the days we went around midday, and good company. But time ended up deteriorating our friendship, to the point that she realized I was harassing her, and her world crumbled.

2019 wandered by, unaware of what the following year would bring, still recovering from what had happened. I still felt like an emotional zombie, waging an internal war, a hell raging since the previous year, longing to uproot my wounded soul, studying something, until a question began to fill the air with love, or perhaps it was another poison.

In 2020, my normality wasn't altered, despite the existence of an extremely contagious virus. My reality wasn't altered at all. Well, actually, I'm lying; something did alter it.

It was love. An excellent time to have a relationship, right? Especially one that was cross-border. In the end, that flame died. The end of the pandemic was approaching, but it was just a funeral for two hearts. It hurt, yes, but the cry of “Blyat Traktor” suppressed that pain.