Everything yet nothing
I’ve been everything yet sometimes I feel like I’m nothing, just a dot in this universe.
I’ve been a child but I don’t recall feeling like one.
I’ve been a teenager and what I remember is my desperately crying for help.
I’m an adult but I’ve been one for all my life.
So if you were to ask me who am I?
I am everything that I could’ve been. All the memories of I childhood I don’t see to recall, all the parties I went to, all the times I was too mature for my age. I am that, or at least I think I am.
I’m trying to reinvent myself because I don’t want to guess what happened to me, I want to know, I must know.
I want to be able to talk about my younger days, be capable of describing the world through the eyes of a child.
I want to tell my narrative of the countless time I felt genually happy.
I’ve been everything yet nothing.
But I feel content in my void, since I can fill it with whatever I desire.
One day I may decide to be a writer, a poet or even a painter and occupy all that empty space with melodically proses, phrases that have no end and paintings that don’t make sense.
One day perhaps I can be a runner and run, run, run from all of this blackness.
The same day is possible that I choose to be a singer, a songwriter or even learn how to play the piano.
On a Monday I could decide to be a photographer and tell my story via photos, the beauty of life from my perspective.
The next day I may not wake up and I’ll be glad that I filled my nothingness with things that made me feel fulfilled.
© fabianaaranzaens