There are two types of people in the world: those who can change on their own, and those who can't.
Those who can change on their own don't just do it because they feel like it one day. There will always be something that makes them change.
The environment itself, an event, even a TV series can change them. They're people who don't depend on others to change.
That doesn't mean they can't change thanks to other people. Talking to others has the same impact on them.
On the other hand, people who cannot change on their own are completely dependent on others.
No matter how shocking or emotional an event is, it won't change them. It's just a passing emotion, and instead of being something meaningful, it's just a simple anecdote to tell.
Extroverts and introverts also fall into this issue.
An extrovert can spend time alone and enjoy it. An introvert can spend time with people and make good memories, though that doesn't change their nature.
The more open one is, in this case, the extrovert, the more one is likely to be the type who can change on their own.
It may sound contradictory, since extroverts are those who enjoy spending time with people, but by being so open with people, they are, in turn, more open to change.
The introvert would fall more on the other side. Being more closed off and less in contact with people, they may be less open to change.
This doesn't mean that there may be extroverts who only change thanks to people, and vice versa.
If you question what I've said a little, you realize something's not right. Aren't there two more guys missing?
Where is the one who doesn't change with people, but does when he is alone?
That's straight up an antisocial person, someone who doesn't enjoy being with others, and would rather spend their time doing something else.
Where is the one who is incapable of change at all?
It's impossible not to change. Not to change means not being able to learn anything, not being able to remember anything, and not being able to live.
Change is life, it's progress. You change little by little, until the day you die. That's why someone who "doesn't change" is simply someone who adopts the same way of thinking year after year, just with a few new insights.
It's something you can't help but deny, because your life changes as soon as you start living it, and as soon as you start growing.
You've never been someone who's incapable of change, you're just denying yourself the ability to do so, or rejecting the idea of change.
This is not the worst thing someone can do.
The worst thing you can do is lie about who you are.
The only thing you can't change is what kind of person you are.
That's why you should stop pretending to be someone you're not, don't you think?
First of all, do you think you can forget?
Everything is recorded in your head.
Even if you don't recognize it, little by little you have been learning.
Little by little you have realized.
How is the difference between you now and you from a week ago, a month ago, a year ago, and 5 years ago?
There's no point in saying 'you were' when you're still like that.
You're just giving the wrong impression.
Don't pretend to be strong when you are weak, because when you have to protect someone, you won't even be able to defend yourself.
Don't pretend to be intelligent when you know nothing, neither about yourself nor about anyone else, nor about the world nor about life.
Don't pretend to be charismatic when you don't even know what your personality is. Don't try to get other people's attention when you have no idea what makes them gravitate toward you. No, you actually know, right?
It's this very facade that makes people pay attention to you. If it were you, you'd almost bore them to death. And if you didn't have to force yourself to speak, you wouldn't even speak to them.
Can you be sure that your friends are who you are, not the facade you put on?
Could anyone even be friends with who you really are when you don't know what you are?
If you can't even describe more than three of your qualities, how will you ever be able to pretend you have more than ten?
The people around you will slowly realize who you are, and they will see how that friend will die from one day to the next.
You will be an imposter to them, since they never became friends with you in the first place.
What are you going to do when you have to face that reality, if your only virtue is deception?
What will your next move be? Will you have any other methods to use?
Think about that while you rest.
If you can.
Everything went black, and a white noise, similar to static, played on a loop. It only stopped when I woke up.
The alarm on my phone started ringing, reminding me of the promise I had made yesterday.
I got out of bed, feeling like I'd been beaten up. Even though I'd gotten up so early, I'd woken up exhausted, as was my custom.
After dressing in my school uniform and packing my school bag, I went to my sister's room.
Upon entering, I could see that the furniture in the room had been rearranged. The counter was no longer in front of me, just outside the room. It was now on the right side of the room, right next to his bed. That wasn't the point.
His altar was the first thing one could see upon entering the room.
He was standing by the slightly open window to his right, from which the sunrise could be seen, with the orange light of the sun pouring in, while a light breeze blew through and stirred the curtains, spreading the light scent of incense throughout the room.
Vases of seemingly real flowers decorated the altar. They were two bunches, one per vase, from which, on each stem, sprouted smaller tips, followed by small blue flowers.
They had a light blue color, similar to that of the sky, with the center of the flower being yellow, surrounded by a pale white tone.
Following the burning incense, apart from more subtle decorations for the altar, there was a frame with his photo, in the center of everything.
This is her high school entrance photo. I went with her that same day, since she was starting the day before me. We took two photos that day.
One was from a distance, the main view being the entrance to the building, with her standing next to the name of the building, and me accompanying her on her left.
The second one was close-up, with her as the main focus, my father on her left, and me on her right.
This last one was the one in the altar frame, only slightly enlarged, so we could have a photo of her from the front, wearing her brand-new school uniform, smiling slightly at the camera. She was truly excited that day.
Below it, laminated, were two other photos of him.
The first one was when she was about 2 years old. In the photo, she's being held by my mother, staring at the camera as if she were looking at an alien.
The second photo is from when she was a little older, around 9 or 10 years old. I wasn't cropped for this photo. She was staring straight ahead, embarrassed, and about to cover her face, while I hugged her and smiled at the camera.
A feeling I couldn't describe ran through my entire body. The scene seemed like something out of a story, something that should never have happened.
How should I feel? What should I do? Should I say something? Should I say goodbye? All I could think about was doubt.
In the end, I didn't say a word, all I did wasI sat on my knees in front of the altar. I didn't clasp my hands because I don't believe in God, and since I was alone, I didn't have to. I just rested my hands on my legs.
I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to calm my mind, and above all, trying to prevent it from ruining the moment.
Still, inside me, I kept hearing that voice.
" Do you think you can show your respect after all?" he said, with the same hatred as the last time.
I wasn't embarrassed to be there. Just being able to see his face, even if it was in a photo, was enough for me.
"If she knew what you were doing now, she would never forgive you."
Talk about me all you want, but if you mention her again, I'm going to cut you out of my head, even if I have to kill myself on the spot.
Even though I may be here, I still can't forgive myself for anything. I'm still unsure how I should react to this. Even though the room is lit by the morning light, it feels gloomier than usual.
And I can't deny it either. I'm scared.
I don't know how to approach the others. How to tell them what happened. How to be able to talk to them again.
To tell the truth, I don't think I'm capable of doing it. But, just for once, I'll endure. I want to endure.
Thinking about what was going to happen, I got up.
Before leaving the room, I turned around to look at the altar once more, before closing the door and heading off to the institute.
* * *
No matter how much I had prepared, I would never have been able to face that moment.
Especially if I was alone.