In a world of black and white things take on color, as the minutes pass the effect of the photos emerges, and their decomposition is the finest there can be, clearly detailing even the smallest point of darkness, thus even stopping blurry images from being seen.
Everything happens in a circular manner like hundreds of rolling theories, things that I thought were insignificant hurt with each version, and the words that one day blew away with the wind return as if nothing had happened, making me a monster with true feelings.
My physique is the most terrifying, claws and long teeth, but my mind, my soul and my heart remain intact, as if they had never been touched, despite having a fragile heart, I continue to pretend that I have one made of stone, and as If this were not enough, the devil was whispering in my ear.
What was in my heart was confusing, I only saw something clear, disorder and mental disaster, I didn't see anything else, and as the nights went by, some became longer and longer, tears flowing from my eyes and the ink from the paper It expanded, one thing led to another, and slowly it died in silence.
There were false and idealistic smiles, the real ones were very rare, however they were always achieved, one smile leads to another, just a good sense of humor and your life restarts, and with the smallest detail something changes inside you.
Being able to observe something beyond, maybe not everything is bad, maybe there are very difficult things, maybe they see you as a monster, just make what you propose worth it, just take the bad comments as an inspiration to succeed, because I know that even if the ink on the paper expands, you can always write the story again, and it may be a better one than the one you had written.