Going Crazy.

I wish I was natural, but everything is always so messed up here. Whatever I say, to some people, I only perceive judgment.

Someone dares to behave badly towards me, they are rude, there is always someone who wants to tell me that there is always my fault.

Fuck them.

You know, a lot of what I experienced, if I am like this today I will always owe it to this environment where I grew up, I HATE the mentality of Lamezia, a place so little in keeping with my character, so capable of doing only one thing: judging.

Then if one becomes like everyone says, it’s because here every emotion you show, they think you’re crazy, you don’t even have the right to get pissed off, that here they want to fuck you up.

That is, tell me, a person behaves badly and would it be my fault?

Yesterday, a chick pisses me off because I wanted to get out of the tobacconist, with a guy hugging a little girl in front of the entrance, clearly, neither of them deigns to let me through.

Probably the boy with the little girl expected the girl to do it who breaks my balls and goes:

– Mbi largu!

Which in Italian means that there was space, but it was clearly false.

So, I mulled it over, I went back to the boy who was a tobacconist and he explained to me that she has problems.

She is a pisser who has been bothering me every now and then, for years, and every time I see her I FORGET about her, because my brain erases the memory of who or what doesn’t matter, it’s a very mechanical thing, so automatic that it’s like if it were made by a computer, and not by a human being.

Extremely rational, in short. How to delete a data considered unimportant, to free up space for memory.

Yet, sometimes the thought comes to me, pissed off about certain things, as if some special button existed in my head, to piss me off, as if I, a tendentially calm person, and with a deep desire to resolve things by always discussing. and in a peaceful way, has something to make him lose a lot of reason, certainly, not quite his mind.

Usually I leave, so I did, but I felt bad about having given the rope and wasting time thinking about this, although I have continued my things anyway, but I think I could have spent it better.

The truth is that if I stayed here I would have a bad end, I would go crazy, the moment my mind and my heart could be destroyed in a definitive way, yes, I would become like her, like ‘she’s crazy, or like someone who he laughs, carrying around, on his shoulders, a huge box with very loud music.

Yes, that’s right, I’m afraid that then I would become that way, but not for the reason of my character, of my passions, no, precisely because I can’t feel free, I fail to get pissed off, to be human, in short. For every moment of emotion, I must be afraid, for the “consequences”.

The only consequences are the bullshit caused by people’s judgments, and I, I move away from them, more and more.

I do not want to become crazy, and this is also why I write, and it is still not understood. For this I wrote, at the time, with all the S *** and various cocks, just to not go crazy.

Luckily I can still do it.




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