Chapter 8: Proudness

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They will never be proud of me. At least, that's what I know now.

I AM a musician but he won't understand, because he never wanted his daughter to be so. He wanted me to be a doctor, It is not my fault to be born like this, I didn't want my father to be absent either. That's the reason why I hate guys, that's why I'm different, HE did this to me, I never begged for it.

He will never understand my happiness every time I play my music, he will never feel how I feel about music, he will never know what is like to feel the music run through your years and catch your breath, your steps until you have it in your blood, inside your muscles, inside your body. He will never be proud of something he hates.

I feel like even if I was a doctor he wouldn't be proud either, because he thinks that I'm dumb just because I think different, just because I think that everything is possible.

As I got into the room to take my things and leave, I got that I didn't want to leave, I felt safe there, I felt comfortable. The music school felt like my home.

I hate when everyone says that I'm talented, everyone but my parents, everyone but me. That's maybe because I hate myself and I'm a mess in everything, always and I'm never gonna be good enough and I'm never gonna be proud of myself if my parents aren't.

I am just a reflection of what society hates, the different ones, the talented ones, the clever ones. I'm just Mars's trash.

Even if I fight Society, I can't win to more than a half of the planet, even if I'm not alone it is hard to be a bisexual, feminist, musician and clever all in one person that lives in Argentina and speaks like a thousand idioms (And I still can't make my parents proud) I'm unique and I know it and it is awfully awful to be like this.

I'm Just Hopelessly Hopefull, AA.

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