My name is not really that important.
I have troubles. People think it’s just that I spend more than what I can afford. But that’s not the truth. Ok, yeah, it is true but it’s not the entire truth. I am actually confused. Once I was successful. Everybody still talks about that time. I like that. And I maybe got used to that. Something like having a honorary title for ever sort of thing. Like “The King”, “The This…The That”. Who wouldn’t like that?
And I kind of got trapped in this situation. Like the curse of brilliant people; they invent a new patent, they write a best-seller and then they are cursed with a self-imposed total lack of inspiration.
Nothing ever seems as good as that awesome, legendary time, when I was one of the best.
I am struggling now. To find my identity. Between my legendary past, the mediocre one and the recent catastrophic one I want to reject anything that reminds me of my decadence. The people, the foreigners that think they are better than me and a part of me secretly wants them to leave me alone, my debts, my -so called- friends that have a different opinion from me.
But, I come to realise that this is also a part of me. A sad, a not so proud to be one, a past that I definitely don’t want to see repeating, but really, a past and a situation that I created with my decisions or lack of decisions. So, instead of trying to hide it maybe I need to embrace it, accept it, understand it and come in peace with it so that I can get over it. Like love rejections:)
It’s weird though. The same people that call me names, abandon me, point out all my weaknesses and negative things about me, say that they love me and want to see me get better. Really? That’s a good approach!! No, ok, I am not being honest. There are some friends. They may be harsh with me, but they care about me, I can see it and feel it, cause despite of all my flaws they are still here, physically and mentally. They are committed with their hearts to make me be better. Even if they are thousand miles away, they cry when they hear my name and they feel alive when they sense my presence. There are the other ones, too. The ones that flatter me. That continue giving me the drug that keeps me locked in my legendary past. But the drug makes me sleepy and I don’t want it anymore.
I am trying. I really am. For these guys. The ones that are harsh but are here. Just don’t give up on me. Please.
Well, you may know who I am. Maybe you have met me or visited me once or twice. Maybe you have been in my shoes sometime or maybe you have heard about me. In any case, it’s nice to meet you. Again.