Eu sinto como se houvesse queimado um fósforo sobre uma folha de papel. Queima, queima rápido. De fechar e abrir os olhos, o que eu tinha não está mais lá.

And so I wake up every morning to do what I’m supposed to. I sincerely feel like an operator of my own life, you know, just doing it all when I should, without actually wanting to. I’m marching through my future as they said I should, but I constantly ask myself why. I get no answers. I don’t like getting no answers, so I just stop wondering. You know, it’s easier not to think about it. By the times I don’t wonder, I can even laugh! Sometimes I pretend I’m the happiest, most beautiful and richest kid in town. I like pretending. It’s still a way to live things I won’t.

Sometimes, at night, when there’s silence and I can hear me breathing, I get distracted. And then I think. The toughts come like the wind, sweetly, softly, before I can notice them. Then, when I realize, I’m completely absorbed by them. I look at the mirror and try to feel in the past. I like the past. It was easier. My mom said I can’t come back to the past neither know about the future, but I wish I could. She said I must live in the present. But mommy, I don’t wanna live in this present, I don’t like it.  So change it.  But how? Go follow your wishes, in order to make them true, she said.

I don’t know what my wishes are. I wish I could have friends. I wish I could climb a really high mountain, and see the whole world from above. I wish I could swim in the air, smelling all the smells in the world and catalog them in my “Book Of Smells”. I wish I could eat a chocolate cupcake now. I wish I could draw well, in order to draw my wishes and glue them on my bedroom’s wall – and then it would be easier to pretend they were true. I wish I could sing at a big stage across the street and be applauded by all the neighbors. I wish I have a boyfriend, and he would give me flowers. Yellow flowers. I like yellow, it’s easier to pretend I’m living good things in a yellow background. I wish I could actually get up from this table and follow my wishes in order to make them true, as my mom said.

But I’m kind of stuck in this routine when most of the time I try not to feel real, when most of the time I pretend I’m someone else. When I stop pretending, I usually cry. I don’t like crying. Mom says only bad kids cry. I don’t wanna be a bad kid, so I stop crying. I’ll call her tonight. I’ll tell her I love her, and I’ll tell her I don’t like my daily routine, and I’ll thank her for asking me to follow my wishes. I won’t actually do this, but while I was guessing what they were, I didn’t want to cry at all. I’m going to sleep now. It’s late. I hope I wake up everyday in the day before, in order to get there, when I was happier. Tomorrow I’ll wake up in yesterday, amen.