Cannot stress thus enough!!!!

What doesn’t kill you disfigures you, experiences are scars.

They think it's our choice, they don't realize that it hurts us by the fact that we don't belong.

You have been seen in several places, at the same time, as if you wanted your perfume to be radiant, but it will not be caught by the hand of a rose, even if one becomes a garden. Those who have traveled after you in my heart said, "There is no limit to the definition of her that breaks the astonishment, because her image stammer, and he did not say a word about her." If I try to write you as if you are reversed: the palm of my hand recedes, and from my line springs flow, and the memory of lakes are formed.

How difficult it was for others, they saw you in the sea, and each in his own way began to draw, at the same time, a wave that competed in its blueness with the wave, until the world became water, and you on its surface create the land. Has no one explained how you branch out in the imagination of the universe, leaving behind images that find their way to lines of paper, canvases, theater stages, and sometimes to forgotten passages in the open, where the autistic cannot touch their solitude without your company?

For the song alludes to what can only be written by your sign, so I write you every time, as if I were all those who saw you in the shrines, on the windowsills, and in lightning blade. As if you were carved in the depths of every soul, and diving, for the sake of your catch. As if I need madness as an accessory, for the talent that is limiting has not been created. As you have not yet sprung from any throat, the fountain of sound that washes the obsessions of lovers with a hoarseness of genius.

I have never seen you, without the world, because I am blind, but I play the thoughts of my stick, which once tapped the edge of your beauty's pavement, and it became green, like a branch. I write you not because of my ingenuity, but because of my hands. I am blind, and your gentle features are my insights.

It’s easy to know who I am when I am at peace with my sadness.
- Juansen Dizon

‍From which wound can we recover our features?

"That is the thing about abandonment issues. You are always on your feet ready to leave."