Again I am at this table. Again against myself. The same cards. The same rules. Only the player is different each time. I am the opponent, the judge and the spectator in the back row.

How many times have I bet on who I want to be and lost to who I was. How many times have I pretended to play life, but in reality - only to avoid pain.

Every chip is a choice. Every card is a memory. The ace is my fear. The two is the forgiveness I never gave. The joker is the part of me that wants to burn everything.

Sometimes I think I'm winning. But behind every victory there is emptiness. Behind every "I could have" a voice inside asks: "Why?"

Can't you see them? These shadows behind my back? It's me. In all my "didn't live", "didn't say", "didn't have time", "didn't give a damn".

My silences. My masks.

There are no opponents here. No spectators. Only me. Against myself. And this is the whole absurdity: To win, I must lose to the player. To win, I must lose to myself.

So, I bet on everything. I bet on myself.

Let the last card decide, Who I was. And who I did not become.