Before My Birthday

This is the last time I’m 34. Last year, let’s say, 12 months ago, I experienced many crazy things. Especially last New Year. I’m not trying to feel or pretend or have pity for myself, but I do.

It has been a year with many changes, mini surprises and pain. Memories and other past stuff that I don’t feel able to say good bye, despite all the things I discovered about my ex girlfriend. I still slash myself. Why? I don’t know. I’m sure is not love but hate.

Every single year, as a part of my birth reminder ritual, I smoke a cigarette. I think I’m getting older, ugly and depressive. That life has no meaning and I’d a big favour to manhood to jump into the Saint Laurent River. I talked to my mother by mistake today. I wanted to talk to my dad but she picked up the phone. The worst, I have to talk to her next Sunday: mother’s day. She, like my ex, was un important woman in my life, a woman who loved me, controlled my and hurt me as I were her vudu puppet.

If I had to do a kind of balance of my life, till now, it’d be something a chain of crashes, pain, memories that they don’t want to stay in the past but live in my present. That sucks. I wish I could skip this day. I just want to cry and I don’t know why. I try to change my mind watching movies and I always choose films quite dark or charged with sad ends. Like “Control”, “Ben X”, “Four minutes” and “Monsanto”. I can’t laugh lately. I’m too serious, I feel even older than I am. But I can’t watch “Mama mia”.

I feel all the time sleepy and bored. I’m tired to be surrounded by people and Lima trying to bother me, never trying to make me happy.

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