Hurt

My head often prevent me from thinking that until yesterday I could be who I wanted.
My head today refers to the world in a somewhat absurd ...
Everything around me is spinning,
The objective lost the fun, lost color,
And now, what appears to be real? What seems to be normal?

I walk without direction, without way, without ground,
No place, no face, no air.

My head hurts to think that I could and can be better than I am,
My viscera exhale bad smell 'cause of the hate and anger contained in a large fake laughs that I gave in when lied be fun,
And all this for what? Why I am not good enough to recognize that I wrong and worse enough to not know when.