ohsolemio

I really don’t know why I am writing in English so let’s do this. As all you know I am a fallen angel but as a Phoenix I fly and fly again among the cigarettes smoked and the beer I never drunk. Perhaps, because of that Heineken never drunk I am what I am, a woman proud of herself.

This hasn’t to do with no one but with myself my inner feeling and need of expressing that sometimes what my mother says is a fucked or a putada is great form me.

once a good friend of me, told me to read more Mafalda rather than studying, a creepy one told me or changed my favourite film for that of a person with a obsessive compulsive transtorn, I am not obsessive compulsive , I am just a fucking genius great bipolar and this condition has made me feel now, proud of myself.

Sometimes I cry and others laughing is the lie all of you think we are as bipolar, (or even that we can be violent is a lie)but I am not such. I coped with phobia, and still coping with anxiety but I feel whenever a star crosses the star and there is no shit from Starlink from the damned Elon Musk or the city is not too noisy I still can hear myself, and I assure you is a chant from heaven I hear.

We are angels, believe it or not, all of us are, I found my wings, again whenever I try to deny myself, then I can hear my inner voice, telling me to fly, and I do fly, I don’t need drugs, just pills to keep or maintain the medium, the balanced in this personality of mine. The euritmia as Greeks said.

If I regret something is having become a problem to my family or kind of, because I feel loved by all of my family, from my older brother who taught me to bike til my little bro who is my administrator and conqueror with the words of a happy world.

I can say now, life is happy or not just happy but life is life and you can do it, you, oneself always can.

I don’t mind being alone or loneliness is not a problem for someone named Soledad this means loneliness, it may sound awkward but I walked miles to reach me , I won’t abanadon myself.

I don’t pretend to be a kind of therapist or revealing one, I just want to speak my truth from the bottom of my icy heart.

Or perhaps not so icy.

I just want to chant of hurt, from the hurt and the stigma it means not to be bipolar because I am not, I am not a diagnose with legs, I am more than that, am free and heroic enough to tell my truth.

I don’t feel aliviated because of that but I was so in loved once that I think that my illness is to love so much I can’t feel my skin.

It is contradictory or funny , to feel so sensitive and feeling loneliness. I don’t deny society in fact I do have friends and they are just great.

I am not common people because the ordinary doesn’t exist. We all have one gift or name it as you want but all of us are stars’ dust and water, of course.

I swim, I write, I read I know languages, I dance and sing, horribly, but to be honest I really am Soledad and this is the best I could ever reach. To be myself.

I don’t see evil because I am a good person, but some people will use even this to hurt , I really don’t mind, I fell confessing today.

And do you know what hurts in this life? not dreaming, not having imagination, not being or retaining the innocence we once had, so I feel fortunate because this «condition?» made me over concentrated in myself and the more I do the more I realize we are unique though some people is the shadow of themselves or just don’t know how to shine and sucks others shine.

Nevertheless this is my opportunity I am a mixed of conditions, of illnesses and of contradictions which keep me alive and dreamy, I always dream with a better world, for this I hate Artificial Intelligence when the nature one is scarce and moreover I don’t like Elon Musk because is pirvatizing the universe, and my heaven cannot be owned by no one. I think Elon Musk should pay us a bill for using our heavens but after the coronavirus surprise all is deviated in such a way we only care about ourselves. And this is the main failure because we are ourselves in the mirror of the other, in their eyes.

I hate hatred people I hate terrorism in any way, violence, hunger in the world, the real pandemic, or justifying one thing by the end doesn’t justify the mediums; or the things used for such a purpose, I mean the purpose doesn’t justify everything, in fact nothing is justified if not almost scientifically proved.

Thus, I want to prove hatred is a lose of time and nerves, because it explodes in oneself. I think that love is the only way. Not a sexual overused love, but that of feelings. Feelings which sometimes make us angry, we must focused that anger into a constructive activity or sport or art.

I have the impression that life runs and we just slowly walk, but perhaps we don’t need to reach that life because it is overpased, we must , I think love ourselves as

I do love me.