I like this picture of mine, which captured me being the one I think I am: always disbelieving, always fighting, staring at life with a suspicious look.
Damn us who lead a life full of disbelief and hatred.
Damn us who stay true to ourselves.
Damn us who love this life too much and expect an equal love.
Damn us who can never shut the mouth, who must always raise offensive opinions, and, at the same time, who always ask for freedom and justice.
We just run out of the place, fools.
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How many people did I hurt?
How many people are there that hate me?
How many times did I hurt myself?
When could I feel the ease of mind?
When could I feel free as a bird?
How could life be so hard?
Ay! Qué vida tan oscura...
