At the end,
as much as I have changed,
most likely,
I am what I have been.
I am what I have always been,
I just, I never (I think) had the real courage to be.
It’s like I’ve always held back.
As if,
well, indeed it is so …
since what I did,
it was no good for someone,
it was as if they put me on
chains, posts, blocks.
Instead, you discover that you are what you have been,
perhaps, ever since you were a child,
only in an improved way.
We are like a constant updating of ourselves.
Sometimes it seems to relive certain situations,
to still feel that child excluded from the group,
to be considered the weakest,
when you are, the opposite.
I wonder if we change,
or simply, growing up,
we become more aware of ourselves.
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Many thanks! 😊
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Lo scrittore Volante 