I am, I let my chin on my arms resting on the window watching the void in front of mine ...
The only thing I want is to see films and more films, be quiet and let my mind with each scene and forget it all. Cover myself with blankets until the last lock of hair I have and nobody bothers me, I do not speak or look at me.
There is some anger in me from seeing a clarity and happiness I have in front of their noses, and now that is when I miss most after having been face to face life's miracles sometimes grants and has given me another chance.
That anger makes me fight with the world and not want to know about it.
That anger is given by the disappointment of my feelings with the words they say.
That anger is given a damn photo.
That anger is perhaps not such rage, but confusion with the world.
Why do I say that something happens to me and I feel something else? 
Why do I say that I see something else?
Why I ended up feeling from everyone but my thing?
Why did I end up caring for everyone but me?
'm in the middle of truth and falsehood, good and evil, of white and black, I'm the yin and yang ...
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