Thinking
by
Edwin
Rosales
I would like to know what everyone is thinking right now. I’m so interested
because faces change depending on who is around or who is talking.
They give me the impression that somethingis happening. I want to stop
them. I want to read their minds. I want to go to their worlds. I want to
discover if they are happy or theyare not. I want to scream out everything
I copied from theirminds. After that, I want to make them free. I want to
make them feel like they want to dance, to run, to laugh to finally say what
they want to say. But I still have questions: Why can’t I see their souls?
What color are these souls? What moves them to do what they do? Why,
why, why am I interested in all this and not in my own thoughts? Is it
because I’ve been learning from others? What have I done? What did
they do to me? Stop. I don’t want to know more people around me. They
have their own existence, their own thinking. It’s none of my business.
But why are they so close? Why can I smell them sometimes? I see them
as if they were not from my own world. Is it because they are different
from me? No, no, no. I myself am not different. I am most especially like
everyone else.
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