My Diagnosis Is Simple, I'm a Lost Cause
As Julio Cortazar once wrote, “My diagnosis is simple, I’m a lost cause.”
Surely you’re also a lost cause because you feel deeply, and sometimes you cry without knowing why. Maybe both us are fascinated by people that spread emotions with their energy.
Surely you also like people that vibrate, and it’s likely that you like to work so that your reality is even better than your dreams.
We’re lost causes because sometimes we get angry for no reason and the world comes crashing down when things don’t go our way. There’s no hope for us because you don’t manage to count to ten like the experts tell you to before exploding.
I’m a lost cause (and so are you) because I’m not capable of eating five meals a day, sleeping eight hours a night or thinking about myself before I think about anyone else. I’m constantly waiting for “that person” to spend time with me.
I’m a lost cause (and surely so are you), because I’m not always able to “let go and say goodbye” to the things that hurt me. It’s not that I like to cling to things or that I’m incapable. I simply hold out hope that “miracles”can happen. I can’t help it. I’m that irrational, though I try not to be (surely the same thing happens to you).
I’m a lost cause because I fully believe that the things that don’t come easy to us are the most worthwhile, and I know that I have to rile up the courage to keep moving forward.
I like to wear a smile every morning, but I understand that it’s not always necessary, that sadness is also good for me and that when my body wants to cry, I should shut down or disconnect for a while.
I don’t like when people tell me what to do, how I should be, when to be sad, or how I should feel.
I’m hopeless because I like to listen to the little battles of other people, scrutinizing their faces and evaluating their expressions. I’m a lost cause because I can’t stand to be lied to, but I understand that sometimes people do it.