For those who...

Suddenly, my spirit was gone, or my mind was gone.

The only thing left of me was my conscience, my only enemy.

So I looked around my bedroom, I looked that four amazing jail-walls, that bed, that desk full of magazines, books, and CD'S, that chair full of old and new clothes, of books too.

My eyes stared at my bedside table,...

(That's who you are)

I looked that bedside table for around five minutes, and believe me, five minutes of stearing to something so trivial, something that has been for over two, three years with me, at my side, it's sick, it's not right.

(This is what you transmit)

This cannot be me, I thought that part of me was gone. What the fuck?. I don't want those things on my bedside table, I don't want anything on my bedside table. I want to be unpolluted, so my bedroom, so my clothes, so my face.

(You never will get rid of that)

Im back, for good. And this is a proof, and my bedroom is a proof, and everything that is in my life now, its a proof, that Im back, and I give me my welcome.

I miss me so much, fuck those happy days, hello sadness, I love you. And I love the way you handle me, the way you make me sad, the way you make me an angry person, the way you make me dirty and intense.

We have been raised to be a stereotype, we have been raised to hate ourselves, to give up ourselves, to hide us inside a sad clown costume, smiling outside and crying inside. To do the same stupid things, and to not think about it. Just be normal, pretend to be normal.