Getting old

Joaquin Sabina. - A mis cuarenta y diez
La vejez es un estado del alma se dice, tal vez sea así... tal vez con el tiempo se vuelva uno como un fino vino tinto, un sabroso queso envuelto en sus hojas y como un cómodo sillón antiguo...
Tal vez entre mas tiempo pase uno se agríe, huela mal y se apolille sea de modo literal o no.
Tal vez todo esto sea una figura retorica para ocultar la rabia de la autoburla.
Tal vez la impotencia sentida al darme cuenta que todo lo que deseo saber nunca llegara.

Maybe im just sick of being a happy face and a protector for them, a strong hand and a ear for my people, a loyal hardworker for those... a brilliant student... a sure aid and helper sick of pretending, sick of smiling for you, and you, and you....all of them

Im tired of being a walking stick for so many...a tool for someone else in some cases
Keeping my face...constant...equal...inexpresive...looking tough even the world is falling apart...and they believe i do not need anything... and they say: i want to be like you...

Im becoming a living dead ... pretending that im happy...
And our father Chronos do not forgive a split second...

Maybe getting old is letting a hit of dead smash you in advance...

Keep faking it