Version in English
Follow me on X: @punisherpapi · IG: @punisherpapi
📓 Sunday, August 3, 2025 – 10:07 p.m.
I’m still sitting in this dimly lit room. It’s lit… lit… lit.
And my mind is lit tonight for one reason only: I learned that I am whoever I say I am.
The world told me who to be, and I said, “Yes—thank you for the command. I’ll serve you.”
But why should I serve me, when the world’s needs always seemed more important? That was—and will always be—a lie.
The world spins on its axis with me today, and when I die, it’ll keep spinning without me.
So do I matter to the world and everyone in it? No.
Then what’s my job?
To find the people to whom I’ll matter—
And to let those people matter to me.
I love my mother, my sister, my brother, and my father. But the question I always needed to answer was: Do I love me?
At the time, the answer was a resounding no.
Now? I’m getting closer to yes.
Why? Because I’ve learned that loving yourself takes work.
It’s saying: “I love me enough not just to try, but to fight myself like a kid battling his siblings for the last toy at the bottom of the cereal box.”
I love me some me.
I remember hearing that line once while watching TV. Who said it? I don’t recall, Your Honor. But I heard that shit—and it stuck.
The truth is: my mind is a kaleidoscope of patterns spinning in the oasis of my own consciousness.
I’m an artist at heart. My first tool of choice was a pencil—given to me by my aunt, Rosa.
“Here, mijo… this is magic.”
Did she actually say that? No. But in my memory, she did.
Because what she gave me wasn’t just a tool—it was the beginning of my voice.
Drawing wasn’t just a tool—it was survival. The beginning of expression.
And I need to express myself. I have to.
Expression isn’t just release—it’s like leaving your own body for a moment. Watching yourself outside of you: the way your shoulders slump, the way you fidget when you feel stuck, the way you avoid your own gaze.
And from that distance… you don’t judge. You just observe.
You know, for the first time, that to be who you’ve always wanted to be means to ask yourself with grace:
“Who do you want to be, brother of mine?”
Leave a Reply