I have never been in the situation of having to describe myself, or at least having to explain "in words" what kind of person I am, how I can be recognized without being able to see or hear me in person.

so I won't. instead of a biographically useless description of me, I want to leave two things written down:
1. this space I created so that I could encapsulate my passions, my words, and some of my projects. if you like them, if you feel attuned to what I write, or if you want to contact me for any projects of any kind, I leave my email and social contacts here.2. since I have no other means of telling my story, I introduce myself, Nina, through a text of mine:

Food that fills, food that empties. Cigarettes that soothe, cigarettes that stun. Kisses that fill, kisses that disorient. Wind that blows, time that passes. The periods of my life are all a bit like this: a constant oscillation between extremes. Extreme happiness and extreme disappointment. I wonder if people can see all this... they say I am light, they say I am cheerful, they say I bring lightness, they say so many things, yet I never speak. It's been so long since I've spoken to myself, since I've said nothing in front of my soul scattered among the illusions of the present. I wonder if I can ever coincide with what I live, with what I feel, with what I choose....

How much shadow is there in this light, how much sadness is there in this joy, how much pain in this love? I recognize myself all the time in these trees, in these walls, in these looks that are so human, but never do I recognize myself. I throw words on these blank plates that ask my emotions to come out and shout their truth, yet what comes out are always things that are very little personal, much more universal. like when I seek affection, but in finding it I turn away from it with revulsion, like when I sing a song, but know I am out of tune, like when you want to be someone, but find yourself to be nobody.

I wonder if I can live with my nothingness, I wonder if we can see how unable we are... unable to express ourselves, unable to smile, unable to exist....

We try, we trudge, we try to accomplish something, to materialise these illusions of ours, but at the end of the fairy tale, the bottom line is that nothing more than human doing, and instead of human beings.

I have lost knowledge of what my being is, but I have gained knowledge of what we are. And in this we, I place my hopes... because if it was not for this, it would mean that I am truly incapable of being.

And as I write this, with an upcoming exam and much pain behind me, I smile, because at least this paper is no longer blank and my words are shouting their truth to the silence of this sky.

Thank you.