This is what I’m telling myself right now: This is you. Rafael, this is you. I’m trying to tell myself who I am. I lost myself somewhere. And that’s a very sad thing. Losing yourself is sad and heartbreaking. Fucking sad and fucking heartbreaking. Losing yourself isn’t like losing a key to your house. It isn’t like losing an expensive pair of sunglasses or even the only copy of the greatest screenplay you’ve ever written. I’ve been talking to myself a lot lately. That doesn’t bother me much. I have a feeling I’m trying to talk myself into existence. I’m trying to listen. It’s time I start
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