Milux

I’m eighteen, from Argentina, and my English is very basic.

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Milux's Interests

General
Music	My favorite bands are Cuarteto de Nos, Måneskin, Ghost, Gorillaz, Maroon 5, and Miranda Some of my favorite artists are Robleis, Paulo Londra, LIT Killah, WOS, Ariana Grande, Nicki Nicole, Sia, Lana Del Rey, Lady Gaga, Shakira, CORPSE, Jack Stauber, Humbe, Harry Styles, Kelly Aliaga, and Melanie Martinez. I’m not picky with music at all—seriously, I could dance to a church song like it’s the number one global hit.
Movies	Some of my favorite movies and shows include Coraline, The Nightmare Before Christmas, Corpse Bride, Monster House, ParaNorman, Scream, Cuando acecha la maldad, Five Nights at Freddy’s, The Boy, Harry Potter, Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory, Alice in Wonderland, The Hunger Games, The Maze Runner, and Divergent. I also love everything from Studio Ghibli (every single film has a place in my heart), and I’m obsessed with shows like Kamisama Kiss, Inuyasha, and Big Mouth!.
Television	It’s been quite a while since I sat down in front of a TV like I used to. Back then, it felt like a daily ritual—something comforting and familiar, like the soft glow of the screen lighting up the room while the outside world faded into the background. I’d get completely hooked on shows like The Mentalist, CSI: Miami, and Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. The way they solved crimes felt like magic to me—turning chaos into clues, darkness into truth. It was like watching puzzle pieces snap perfectly into place, except those pieces were lives, lies, and twisted motives. Those shows didn’t just entertain me—they sparked something. A curiosity for the shadows, for what hides beneath the surface. Maybe that’s where my love for forensics and criminal investigation really began. And then, of course, there were the cartoons. I basically grew up on Cartoon Network and Disney XD. I watched everything. From wild, random humor to weird little mysteries, chase scenes, and characters screaming in dramatic Spanish dubs—those voices still live rent-free in my head. I’d laugh like crazy, get emotional over the simplest plots, and pretend I was part of those worlds. I can still hear the theme songs and imagine the commercials between shows. It was chaotic, loud, colorful... and it felt like home. Those days were full of magic in their own weird way. I didn’t know it back then, but I was learning what stories I connected to, what characters I admired, and what emotions made me feel alive. I guess the TV was more than just noise—it was my first escape, my early guide into who I’d become.
Books
Heroes	My mom and my sister

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Milux's Blurbs

About me:

Some days, I try to connect… but nothing clicks. People pass by, talking, laughing, existing in crowds—and I just feel like a glitch in the system. It’s not that I don’t try. It just doesn’t come naturally. Rejection terrifies me more than any horror movie scene. There’s no sense of home in other people’s eyes. Just noise.

I’m scared of feeling empty again. That fake laugh, the one that echoes but means nothing. That lost place where I don’t even know what I want anymore. Do I want to be alone? Be a criminalist solving untold stories? Own a cozy old house in some hidden corner of Italy? Or maybe I’m just craving some dramatic love confession in the rain, like in those movies where everything’s intense and real.

I don’t like fighting. So I keep quiet, avoid unnecessary drama. But silence becomes a storm when you hold it in too long.

I’m afraid of forgetting. Not the big things. The small ones. A scent, a laugh, a certain voice, a moment, a feeling, someone’s name, their face... And one day, looking at someone and only seeing a blur where they used to be.

When I speak, it’s like my words get lost in translation. Like nobody has the map to understand me.

I don’t spread hate. I’m pro-choice—your body, your decision. I don’t believe religion should be forced on anyone. And I won’t respect adults who think I should worship the ground they walk on just because they’re older. Respect goes both ways.

No one really knows how much the little things mean to me. Thank you for thinking of me, for the compliment, for that genuine laugh, for the warm hug, for being someone who truly listens.

Sometimes I get mad at people… but I don’t say it. Then they do something kind without knowing, and just like that—I forgive them.

If you need to talk to me twenty times about the same thing because it’s eating you alive… then talk to me. I’ll listen. Every time.

I tend to detach. Sometimes I vanish out of nowhere. It’s just who I am. I need a little freedom. Don’t try to understand it. Just let me be.