THE ...:Problems:...

Today I had a Deathwish. A few minutes ago I understood it.

As dynamite, Dynamite blowed my head and almost instantly I ran out
with my bike, riding through nowhere, in the middle of schizophrenia, driving madly, crossing streets, jumping sidewalks, vituperating other drivers, etc.

I arrived to my house exhausted and my eyes where tired, because of the crying, you know. As I entered my room, my brain was starving and I decided to put music. In order to recover myself: NewOrder. I slept and slept and slept, with this silence of dreams that was just disturbing my sleep and when I woke up I had in my head the pictures of all my football at my beloved ex-school and I suddenly felt the answer like a drum in all my cells.

My deathwish, first, comes because I'm about to break down again the next Saturday.
Second, obviouslly, I've been terribly sad, all because the customary reasons and problems. But this seasons I've felt two kind of people: The ones that are obviouslly sad and don't try to hide it(which are the less). And the rest of them, also obviuslly sad, but hiding it (most of them).

But how this preppie melancholy is related to Napoleon Dynamite? Simple as pie, inside the bubble of love I didn't felt like Dynamite, I felt like a hero. Big. Kahn, Donnie Darko, Amelie, Beckham, H. K., English Army. Real-life heroes, fantastic heroes but my idols!
I used to felt like that kind of people back there at my place, but now that I'm in the limb, in the middle of the road. I'm not saying the ol' metaphore of the Big Fish in the small pond, I'm saying that my shield against myself is gone.


Who's left in here?

I left it clear,
just confirming
that I'll be,
Sad.


Aún buscandole Lunares a la Luna. . .