Estrellas Místicas

Everything seems to be as usual - the stage, the lights, the audience, the familiar routine, the practiced smiles. Only inside is a slight itch: as if you want to peel off your skin and check if there's even a drop of the real thing left underneath. Singing, joking, being polite - it's no longer an act of will, but a clause in a contract. Every "thank you" sounds like a politeness tax, but you pay it anyway because that's what's expected. And yet, there's a strange dignity in it – not biting the hand that feeds you, but simply swallowing the poison of your own discontent quietly. Smile when you don't feel like it. To step onto the stage, even if you feel empty inside. A small sacrifice for a big reward - not in fame, but in that very moment when new stars rise and you are still standing in the light. Even with a wounded soul, you shine.