September 8th

I celebrated the turn of my 18th birthday doing everything I’ve always done since I was 13, with the few friends I have left, those who do not ask me invitations for fashion shows but some doses of patience and smile, those who know me more than I and my analyst – together -. In the same place as always, listening to the old stories, the same songs. My cake? Subsequent plastic cups and a candle, one of those that let sparks fly and that go out alone.
I woke up early and alone as usual, drinking my email and 
checking  my coffee. I meditate and do stretching and it takes me 30 minutes to realize that it’s my birthday, I look at the clock, it’s 8 o’clock, I was born 10 minutes before. Nice, now I can be arrested.

A year ago I would be listening to a unison  “happy birthday to you” in a crowded room. Today I receive virtual congratulations , most superficial statements of pseudo-known people.
I put my collection of Beatles to play loud, the wall and the neighbors listen to “with a little help from my friends”, “Blackbird” and “the fool on the hill” as I was cutting onions. And I’m cutting the onions of my life. Somehow I feel different,  that same person as yesterday and the day before. Still did not won gifts this, but do not do much question, I prefer those same gifts I conquer. And now I just want to be real every day.

Thank you to everyone who directly or indirectly met these blank pages in the last 18 years.


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