Everybody seems to be capable of telling and expressing exactly what they feel. But me, my mind, this enormous hurricane of feelings and thoughts that twirl becoming an endless spiral, from when I wake up until I fall asleep, and my body all together are not able to produce one definition. Love, horror, sadness, joy, excitement and depression are all part of this experience I've grown found of.

The desire of saying something makes me think and try to come up with an idea, a not-too-complex thought about what I feel. It also makes me want to forget about it and go do something else, because I just can't find a solution. I'm living in the present and the present is so much for itself already, why make it even more complex? Well, that's me, I do stuff like that. Why? Ask Rafael, I'm only a Cat. I guess I'm settling for enormous atmospheres, nets of paradoxal concepts, which wrestle peacefully in my mind. And that's why I don't feel like striving to have a structured opinion about myself and my thoughts and wills (but I also do...). I'm settling for freedom. And please, do not relate this to any political points of view, I'm not in the mood today (since politics bring that sense of enclosure most of the times).

Today I want to feel free. And confused. And loved and horrifying.

Alive.