Las horas más largas

Las horas más largas son las que paso sola conmigo.

El cielo está cansado ya de ver la lluvia caer.

Y yo estoy cansada también. De mí. Voy a terminar conmigo.

Y dale con los cantantes colombianos.

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It's like the longest movie.

I look at people. Doing things. But how.

I usually just watch.

I don't do things. I cannot even picture myself doing them.

So now I'm sitting here, waiting for the movie to end.

That's what it feels like. No rent to pay, no deadlines.
I don't need anything. That's why I don't do anything.

I complain about things that make no sense. Look at everything I left behind. This is what I wanted. It seemed so much easier when I didn't have to actually do it. But other people do. And they seem pretty fucking stable. They don't let you see them cry. Oh and how I love to cry.

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Escribir se me ha hecho distinto estos días. Estos meses. Pesado no. Es distinto. No quiero. Entonces tengo estas ideas breves y oraciones largas dando vueltas en la cabeza días y semanas pero nada de eso vale. No está en papel.

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Generally mortified but not doing anything about it. I am exhausted. Exhausted of thinking the same again and again. And telling myself that I need to do things and then I don't. Because something else always comes up.

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No tengo nada que contar.
It's been a year since I left home and I have nothing to show for it. Just scars. And friends I've left behind.

but hey, here's to doing things differently