Rogul Ino

I dont know what time I was born

I don't know what time I was born. My mother doesn't know either.
I don't know if I had childhood illnesses. Or what illnesses my parents had so I could somehow avoid them. I'm like a ship that has a flag set, but has no destination.
Childhood? I don't know if I had a good or bad childhood. I don't understand people who say they had a bad childhood? How's that coming? Did they have a bad childhood, then another good one and saw that the first one was bad?
I still remember the drawer of my black desk. It was custom made and was very tall. The drawer was so high that the first time I put something in it, I injured my forearm. I expected it to be shorter somehow.
I'm Ino. Rogul Ino. You probably haven't heard of me. I just deleted the last line. I had written, "You've probably heard of me", but out of habit, I think I'm invisible. Or that I am not enough.

- Bebit, happy birthday! Happy birthday, Bebit !

This is Mada. Yes, I know I said my name is Ino, but that's my name. Bebit is just a caress. I put a memory in the drawer, without hitting my hand. Mada takes my hand and takes me to the living room.

- I have a surprise for you.

I have sleepy eyes. However, I manage to open one quarter of an eye. It's written "Happy birthday" and "37" in golden balloons. She hands me a gold packed package with a white T-shirt that says Levis. I tell her:

- Baby, it's a mistake. It says 37. But it had to be 27.

With the other patched eye I see the time: 1:15 AM. I don't know if I was born or not yet. I never understood those who know exactly when they were born. I have 24 hours and 1440 minutes to choose from. I recognize. I quickly changed the application to do the math. 1440, not 24. That's what I know. We're going back to sleep. She is, at least. She'll in service at 7 AM. She has a few more hours of sleep. A few hours in which I was already born. Or not. Let me choose.
I read an article and come across something that caught my attention: "since we were born, we are in the middle of something". When I was "born" for those who raised me, I was already the end of something for my real parents. The one in the article had scoliosis. He is now world champion.
I remember going to a troubled children's center recently and seeing what it looked like. When I was little I liked dolls. I would take them and imagine that they were doing one thing or another. I don't like dolls now. I saw a living doll. A little girl with scoliosis who lives with a shield on her like a coffin too short from which her hands and feet protrude. She leans to one side when something falls to the ground to catch it. However, he laughs. But I know what a real smile looks like.
In the Middle Ages they wore shields voluntarily. They were called corsets, and they were tightened so that their hands and feet came out. It's just that they were made of cloth, not thick, heavy plastic. They wore it because wanted a thin waist. The doll in front of me, because she wanted a waist. No matter how thin.
We all wanted something different, different. I guess. I just wanted to be enough. That's it. Baby is sleeping. I am writing. I'm in the bathroom. I have inspiration. I fell asleep.
I think that infinity does not exist, it is just a creation of people. Otherwise we would have in the range 0 to 0.0000000001 an infinity of numbers.  And then, in fact, it would no longer be an infinity, but an infinity of infinities, right?  Anyway, in the range 0-1 there would be an infinity of infinities, which would lead to the conclusion that 1 is greater than ♾, but as the infinity was invented we know that it is not.  Anyway, good thing I fell asleep.