anlu. | staying still. | she was a beautiful boy. | 12.12.90 | I’m trying to learn how to live
Who am I? The question lots ask, while just fews are able to find the answer. Who am I? Me, I don’t know! I could pretend and say that my name is Ana, but do you think it’s that easy to identify anyone? With a name? I don’t think so. Anyway, here I’d love to be called Anlu and for now I’ll stay behind this side of my mask.
I’ll be whoever the day tells me to be. I’ll be the sun hid by a cloud. I’ll be the opaque moon in a dreary nigh. I’ll be the rain and the tempest. I’ll be the dust. I’ll be the wind. I’ll be everything and nothing, everyone and no one. The little kid who plays with his toys with no fear of tomorrow. The old man left alone by the world in his last fleeting years.
But I’ll never be myself.
