Of the real
Of the real…
My mom couldn’t have children
and I didn’t have the slightest intention of being born
I didn’t want to come to this place
to this empty space
although I resisted, they threw me here
I had to inhabit this body
belong to this society
see things as they are, or as I think they are
understand everything and understand nothing
become the representation of myself
a spectator of life
of the cruel, the sensible
of the good and the terrible
of happiness and of sadness
of light and darkness
of the artificial
and above all, of the real.
