camaleão
o problema de cresceres sem amor, é que te habituas a recriar-te para que ele te seja entregue. fui ator, mas nunca por gosto. apenas porque me era fácil sê-lo, fi-lo a vida toda. nunca vesti a minha própria pele, até porque acho que nunca tive uma para usar.
habituei-me desde cedo a ser aquilo que precisavam que eu fosse, e fui várias coisas. fui palhaço, atento, fui dedicado, fui rebelde e irreverente, fui rude e agridoce. fui inocente, fui dissimulado, superficial. fui profundo, estóico e crítico. cultural e denso. sempre perdido. sempre desencontrado. sempre dentro, sem nunca pertencer realmente.
sempre a vestir sorrisos que não eram meus, sentimentos que não me pertenciam, teorias que não tinha pensado. criei e geri depressões e maleitas porque a vida me era chata. parca. nunca fui constante, mas fui constantemente uma farsa.
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chameleon
the problem with growing up without love is that you get used to recreating yourself so it will be given to you. I was an actor, but never by choice. only because it was easy for me to be one—I’ve done it my whole life. I never wore my own skin, mostly because I don’t think I ever had one to wear.
from an early age, I got used to being what others needed me to be, and I became many things. I was a clown, attentive, I was dedicated, rebellious, and irreverent. I was rude and bittersweet. I was innocent, deceitful, superficial. I was deep, stoic, and critical. cultured and profound. always lost. always out of place. always on the inside, but never truly belonging.
always wearing smiles that weren’t mine, feelings that didn’t belong to me, theories I hadn’t thought of. I created and managed depressions and ailments because life felt dull. scarce. I was never constant, but I was constantly a farce.
- from the emotionally burned out boy 🫶🏼
