"Life is just a pain that I will go through"
To/Die/For. Lacrimarum

I don't even know why I'm writing in english (de hecho nisiquiera sé inglés) but I think all these words came from the deepest and darkest part of my soul and, suddenly, they were tattooed here in this screen.

More than 250 moons, more than 20 winters, many nights, more books than I can count, lots of kisses and hugs... but sometimes I feel I still the same. Everybody feels like this (I hope), but for me is too much.
Every year I realize that nothing could be as I expect: if I wanna be with you or if I wanna be alone...

Should I desist?
Should I let all go?
Sometimes I need (I really do need) some caretaking but nobody is around, and when I ask for a moment alone the entire world is over me...
I really can't handle my life: all the things around me are the life I hate. I think I'm the life I hate.
Is my inside the other thing I love?
Are you the other thing I love?
Do I need to rest?
Again I rather be far away from here, not scaping but analysing my chaotic being. I long for a trip... Cold lands of metal, wait for me!