viernes, 18 de octubre de 2019

Dejar el pan.


Tratar de dejar el pan es como lidiar con mis exnovios alcohólicos o drogadictos. Por suerte nunca hice drogas o alcohol, y en realidad, los odio. Pero he amado a tant@s con esos issues! O con otros parecidos de dependencia o de abandono. Cuando digo en mis historias de ig "Atraes lo que eres, eres lo que atraes" no me lo inventé, lo he experimentado. Aveces pienso que quizá todos somos adictos. Quizá no sabemos cortar el cordón de lo que sabemos no nos hace bien y ese es el tema. En mi caso seguro que soy adicta a la idea de algo, la idea de un sentimiento que posiblemente, ni siquiera era real, algo que ni siquiera era tangible y que sólo sucedía en mi cabeza. Un abstraccionismo romántico, una idea inflada de expectativas y sueños, justo como el pan: materia que flota suspendida gracias a bacterias, dulce, sin nutrientes, pero fuck!, tan rica, tan suave, tan confortable. Tratar de dejar el pan siempre representa tratar de dejar eso, es como arrojarte al desierto y probar que eres suficiente, obvio amo la idea porque tengo este delirio de paria y guerrero dentro, pero al mismo tiempo de vez en cuando vuelvo, y quizá sólo vuelvo para recordar la fantasía que ya no está.
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Trying to give up on bread is like dealing with my alcoholic or drug addict ex-boyfriends. Luckily I never did drugs or alcohol, and I really hate them. But I have loved so many people with those issues! Or with other similar like dependencies or abandonment. When I say in my ig stories"You attract what you are, you are what you attract" I did not invent it, I have experienced it.
Sometimes I think maybe we are all addicted. Maybe we don't know how to cut the cord of what we know is not good for us and that's the point. In my case, I'm sure I'm addicted to the idea of ​​something, the idea of ​​a feeling that possibly was not even real, something that wasn't even tangible and only happened in my head. A romantic abstractionism, an inflated idea of ​​expectations and dreams, such as bread, suspended matter that floats thanks to bacteria, sweet stuff, without nutrients, but fuck!, so delicious, so soft, so comfortable. Trying to leave the bread always means trying to leave that, it is like throwing yourself into the desert and proving that you are enough, obviously I love the idea because I have this rave of outcast and warrior inside, but at the same time from time to time I return, and maybe it is just that I like to come back just to remember the fantasy that is gone.

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