This song is pure anxiety. It’s about feeling lost inside your own head — about pretending everything’s fine while you’re falling apart.
On July 19, 2025, Chilean artist Sery released “Quisiera Confesar”, a raw and intimate portrayal of anxiety and self-awareness, wrapped in an ironically bright electronic pop sound.
The track captures the emotional collapse that comes with starting over in a new country — loneliness, financial pressure, and the silent weight of mental health struggles — all filtered through Sery’s confessional writing and hypnotic, minimalist production.
The contrast between the upbeat melody and the devastating lyrics creates a haunting duality: it sounds alive, but it feels broken.
“Quisiera Confesar” was born from emotional exhaustion. After moving to Montréal, Sery faced the silent pressure of survival — balancing creative ambition with isolation and anxiety. The song became her way of processing everything she couldn’t say out loud. Unlike her previous work, this track abandons metaphors and dives straight into the uneasiness of real life: sleepless nights, self-doubt, and the blurred line between art and mental health.
Yo sé que esto mi ángel escuchará.
Le pido perdón, me ha vuelto a pasar.
Me has fallado tanto que ya no confío más.
Antes de seguir con la historia, yo
quisiera confesar
que una parte de mí
ya no quisiera regresar.
Y yo no entiendo
cómo es que estoy muerta por dentro,
pero voy lento,
llegando al final estoy.
Cada mirada y cada risa ahora se perdió,
no queda nada más en esta vida.
Mirando el techo con la mirada perdida,
ya no estoy, no pienso,
estoy muriendo.
Tengo más canciones tristes
que dinero en el banco.
Tengo más depresión que la misma ansiedad.
Tengo más deudas que nadie a mi edad.
Tengo más insomnio que un deudor.
Tengo más canciones tristes
que dinero en el banco.
Tengo más depresión que la misma ansiedad.
Tengo más deudas que nadie a mi edad.
Tengo más insomnio que un deudor.
I know my angel will hear this.
I ask for forgiveness — it happened again.
You’ve failed me so much, I can’t trust anymore.
Before I go on with the story,
I just want to confess
that a part of me
no longer wants to return.
And I don’t understand
how I’m dead inside,
but moving slowly,
reaching the end, I am.
Every glance and every laugh is now gone,
there’s nothing left in this life.
Staring at the ceiling with empty eyes,
I’m not here, not thinking —
I’m dying.
I’ve got more sad songs
than money in the bank.
More depression than anxiety itself.
More debts than anyone my age.
More insomnia than a debtor.
I’ve got more sad songs
than money in the bank.
More depression than anxiety itself.
More debts than anyone my age.
More insomnia than a debtor.
Production: Written, recorded, and mastered by Sery.
