defectos.

Sometimes I don't like myself, I don't enjoy how I am, how I behave, my constant stubbornness and cold attitude. Sometimes I think I wish I could change, reinvent myself, move differentely, smile differentely, react differently.

Sometimes I wish to be someone else, a people's person, but then I recover and think I love my carefree essence, my unique form of being, the way I scream while I'm driving to liberate my soul, to sing aloud with the car windows up. To jump and dance around the office, to openly and without fright take someone's arm and walk together.  I can't deny I love the pale (almost sick), color of my skin, my curves, even the health problems, the asthma, the anomaly of my feet, teeth and knees, my scars, the bruises, my crooked mouth, the wrinkles in my forehead, my "grandma's old hands and pierced ears.

The years will past, I'll get older, I'm getting older, let's see how it turns out.