I cannot remember for how long I have been suffering melancholy. Before, I used to have a “normal” life, enjoying every single of my activities.
Suddenly, its symptoms appeared. At the beginning I experienced difficulties to live with them.
Suffocating sadness and deep guilty of being myself; inexistent tears from the failed oblivion of being another sorrow man. Melancholy; I have leant to dwell with you, survive you; in fact, I have started to enjoy my own black bile.
Consciousness of living with this black lady makes me see my world and my everyday with different eyes; I think I can distinguish better the things that really matters for me. Meanwhile, I use art to give answers to my quotidian experience.
It is the trip that I need to cope with.
I´ve lost my purpose
Just a black hole
In the middle of a sunny day
I don´t understand myself
I would like to silence me
If only I could born again
I´m captured in my old me
That’s all I know
Fear and courage at the same time
Tears and smiles that no one can see
Hopelessness to learn how to co-exist.