I’ve been looking for a free-judgmental space. A free place for stupidity. I’ve been up and down. I’ve been in pretty places and in dark places I didn’t even knew I wanted to be at myself. But I did, once I found myself there, standing still, I wanted to leap before I could do anything else, before I could even breath. And I’ve heard so many times about learning to fly, and I wanted to fly.

Of course non of this ever happened, always look before you leap.

And there are plenty of safe spaces, everybody kept judging me and themselves and I wanted them to hear what their bodies where reflecting, their bodies had a weird aura floating around their legs, all sitting down in their school desks.You could see the unsafeness of their steps just by looking at their legs. They should at least listen to me If I decided to speak, but I felt wrong, everything I think and everything I do is wrong.

Still thoughts are made up of words and images and they use different words than I do so, does that made me different or does it make them different? I’m coming to it hold on.

So then I leap, but I leaped one person at a time, it was genius. I remembered all the poems I used to know and there were plenty, and they were genius. And they used to know poems too so we had something in common, besides form the age, the school, the country we live in and the fact that we all are human beings, we all have poems we used to know. And I could picture them, just like I was, standing in front of a crowd hoping to be able to speak, to be able to remember but most important to be able to fly, leave them mouth-open.

They where nice back then, when they got home to learn a poem, but then, then they made us improvise. They wanted me to speak about things, the teachers, they already knew those things. They did it just to prove how less I knew about the subject, and I knew a lot, but I was not in my safe stupidity place. And I haven’t yet learned how to fly, at least not around them.

I’ve been here less than you could imagine and I can’t speak in front of them. Even if I know they used to know poems just like I did, or that they will probably never learn to fly because at the time I despise them and I didn’t wish them well and mind power is so powerful. As you know there is this one cure for stage fright, imagine everyone in their underpants, and I tried, I swear I do, but once again I couldn’t because they repulse me. And I was there standing, nobody looking at me but yet everyone would start to listen  once I started to talk, but my words were different than theirs, and they were mine and I never want them to be like me, so I couldn’t let them hear me. So I pull my pants down and started talking, and they stared, but they couldn’t listen. Because they laughed their judgements out, I couldn’t let them listen.

By Ana Fuente

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