I'm really angry because when you work so hard in something, when you let yourself involve in the process of creating, then you know you're putting your own mind and heart into that thing; a piece of your soul, a piece of your life and all what you are and mean get tied with that unique thing, that will be recognized as your voice. It doesn't matter if it is long or short, nor complex or simple, it doesn't matter if everybody likes it or if nobody has even noticed it because it's just how you see the world, it couldn't be right nor wrong.
I'm angry because it's not the first time I post an essay or comment in this blog and it's not the first time I can't find them later. I don't know what is happening, maybe the line, maybe the internet, maybe my computer, maybe someone; but I find it unjust, because I spent time trying to find the way to say what I think, the things I can see and what I feel.
Now I wonder if someone could read my last post before it disappeared. I want to know if some of you had seen it. It was tittled "Beauty" and was posted on October 13th at 2.00 AM. It talked about what means beauty for me and where I can find it. I'll be very grateful with anyone who could see my post and could attest it now.
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