Desiertos silentes

noreply@blogger.com (SÍ, SOY...) — Tue, 12 May 2009 16:26:00 +0000

“porque va borrando el agua

lo que va dictando el fuego”

Consume el calor de un día de verano el llanto perlado de nubes

La evaporación de sentimientos es ligera cuando no se tiene nada

Universos a años luz.

El mío, violento, majestuoso, armonioso y sediento de ganas

El tuyo, sombrío, tajante, contraído, fuerte, lleno de pureza maleza

La coalición no fue constante y la gravedad ejercío su fuerza.

La inercía llama pero nadie responde.

Al fin, todo en su lugar.

Tú y Yo

No se lo merece.

Ceci n'est pas un blog

noreply@blogger.com (SÍ, SOY...) — Thu, 22 Jan 2009 06:03:00 +0000

Este blog no es verdaderamente un blog (en mi opinion). Considero este espacio como un lugar donde escribo las cosas que corren por mi cabeza en algun momento el cual coincide con yo estar sentada frente a la computadora y escribirlo. Siempre he pensado que soy un total fracaso escribiendo, mis destrezas gramaticas son fatales. Pero no escribo para complacer a nadie, a decir verdad, escribo pensando que nadie va a leer lo que escribo y mucho menos comentar o inspirarse. En realidad solo como 2 personas de mi vida real saben que tengo este blog. Prefiero el anonimato.

Ayer mirando mi blog encontré un comment en un post de hace unos meses:

*Quiero...

Mzcon said...

Inspirándome en tus palabras me permito escribir lo siguiente:

Quiero,ser molestado por tu amor eterno,un amor enfermo de cobijo;
quiero un interior que te regale paz;quiero no tener horas y no dormir sino soñar;quiero no ser tu rutina,enredar en tu sistema y apropiarme de tu mente;quiero no querer ser querido y luego verme herido;quiero odiar la rutina sin tener que renunciar a la existencia;quiero sentir tu miedo y ver como sin él floreces;quiero ser amado por corazones no por banas ilusiones;quiero ser tu paisaje,o lo observas,o lo ignoras,o lo ansías;quiero;te quiero...

¡¡que terrible es amar y saberse jamás correspondido!!

Cuando escribi aquel post, estaba acabando con una persona que por la razon que fuera no me queria como yo lo queria. Le entregue mi corazon sin el darme nada a cambio. Creo que lo quise demasiado precipitadamente por que construi una idea ficticia de lo que el era debido a ciertas coincidencias, fue muy ANA de mi parte, me gusta pensar en las casualidades como definidoras de nuestro destino, pero esto no es necesariamente correcto. Confieso que suelo cegarme por supersticiones, casualidades y cosas de naturaleza esoterica. Todo esto, tristemente para mi detrimento.

Ya ha pasado bastante tiempo desde ese ruptura y aunque trato de que no me afecte, me parece natural que siga molestando un poco.

Es hermoso que otro ser en el mundo se haya inspirado de mi dolor, demuestra que el sufrimiento es la condicion mas humana que existe. Mil gracias a este desconocido, me hizo el dia, me ayudo a recordar y sanar ciertas cosas que estaban sin resolver.

Re-encounters

noreply@blogger.com (SÍ, SOY...) — Tue, 13 Jan 2009 19:34:00 +0000

2009 started full force and non-stop, I haven't written in two weeks basically because i've just been sleeping in my house otherwise I am out and about.

But before starting to talk about 2009, I want to highlight that even though 2008 was not my favorite year by far, I feel I became a more wholesome and centered person, much more at ease and in peace with myself. And this is a lot in part because I have been really getting to know and enjoy my family. In some cases it is true that when one establishes a good relationship with parents, step-parents, step-sisters, step-brothers, just anyone that can be considered part of the nucleus of a family, one starts feeling better with the world and in some ways fulfilled. This Christmas, although I decided not to go to Colombia to visit my dad's family because I did not want to deal with precisely that concept of the family. I found myself more in touch with the family that are present here and including those visiting from the past.

I hadn't seen her in almost a decade, which would make me a young girl the last time I saw her, and in which she forever scarred me. She left in me a wound that has never really closed, it is not that I think about it everyday, or even every month, but when I do think about it and remember what happened it always brings tears to my eyes, even now as I write about it my eyes start getting teary. It is hard losing a family member for anyone, especially to death, but when you loose someone so close to you because of circumstances, in a way it is more painful. Knowing that the person still lives and is just not a part of your life anymore, is not and will never be that person you knew and loved again is just difficult. This December she came home, and after almost ten years of not even speaking to her, it was very overwhelming to see her. I am so glad that we saw each other, we didn't talk about what had happened, I think it wasn't necessary, but we knew, we knew that it wasn't necessary to say "Im sorry" because we both have lived with those wounds. We talked, and talked just like we used to do before, we talked about religions, about love, about teachers, about philosophies, about music... She seemed very happy to know even if it was just a little about me. She left the last day of the year. It was a good way to close that chapter, at last she's well.

Krzysztof Kieslowski used to be her favorite director, she described Juliette Binoche in Blue as the perfect embodiment of sorrow and grief, I guess she knows a thing or two about the subject.

Memoriessss a lo "The Way We Were"

noreply@blogger.com (SÍ, SOY...) — Tue, 30 Dec 2008 00:19:00 +0000

Today as I was checking an old email account, I was bothered by the massive quantity of emails from the Tagged site, apparently I had open an account with them many many many moons ago. Deciding to delete the account at last, I went to check my profile, and it caught me by surprise that I had a picture of us, as my profile picture. In one of our many break-ups, I had in a tantrum decided to delete all of the photos that existed of our relationship, as if by erasing them from my computer I could erase him from my life. So, when I saw my profile picture, which was my favorite photo of us, I was really surprised that somehow that picture managed to survive through a forgotten account.

Looking at it now, its perplexing how much we used to love each other, our intimacy, our playfulness, our carelessness...

Today, it actually made me feel good to see it, in some way this photo erased all those bad memories of a tormented relationship, and now I can look at it with a different perspective, as something that once gave me joy, instead of terrible pain.

How can one single picture prove to be so powerful and meaningful?

In a photo in the vast infinity of cyberspace, our love proved to be everlasting. Makes me wonder and think, like looking up to the stars and seeing into the past, love, sometimes can be that distant star billions of light years away. We may see something so beautiful from here, yet, that luminous star that we see is only a reflection of what once was and may be no more. A photograph, in a way is that radiant star's light that keeps on shining even after its demise.

Love, even in its wake can be that celestial body that keeps on shining forever in the infinity of space.

Confesiones de invierno

noreply@blogger.com (SÍ, SOY...) — Wed, 17 Dec 2008 17:48:00 +0000

Todavía no comprendo como llegue al punto de este estatismo. Cuando reflexiono sobre mi pasado, nunca logro encontrar cuales fueron las variables que me llevaron hasta aquí. Toda mi vida hasta los 18 años era una aventura, impredecible, pero de buena forma. Los amigos eran fieles, compañeros, confidentes, divertidos, compasivos, volátiles y creativos. Las razones y justificaciones no eran un necesidad. Y el enigma acerca de la existencia era resuelto con simplemente pasarla bien entre amistades. Tenía tantos planes, que paso con mi fuerza de voluntad? acaso eso no era lo que quería? Es una sensación extraña y difícil, la realización de que ya han pasado los primeros cuatro años de esos planes y no se logró ninguno de los objetivos deseados. El tiempo no perdona. Y la felicidad tampoco. Según ella la felicidad eran pequeños parchos en la cobija de la vida. Me pregunto si cambió su teoría, hace tanto que no se de ella. Por mi parte no sabría que decir sobre la felicidad, por alguna razón en el presente nunca logro captarla pero cuando miro al pasado encuentro una supuesta nostalgia de la felicidad que perdí. En realidad creo que ni en los recuerdos era feliz, mas bien era un figmento de mi propia imaginación para alentarme a seguir pensando que hay esperanza de volver a encontrar tal estado de gozo. La realidad es esta no tengo dinero, no tengo trabajo, no tengo pareja y aunque quisiera pensar que tengo autonomía, tampoco eso tengo. Estoy estática en el mismo lugar, jugando la misma posición y en el mismo escenario entre los mismos personajes. La monotonía es seria en mi vida, y es que aunque quizás el espectador piense que soy una fatalista y he decidido vivir en la monotonía, lo cierto es esto, decidí dejar sus monotonías y aceptar la mía, ambos estamos rodeados de monotonías. Al fin y al cabo mi monotonía podría ser conducente a mi aprovechamiento personal. Ese egoísmo me hace falta, la gente tiende a chuparse mi energía de maneras negativas. Bueno, y con un suspiro pienso quizás nunca he perdido la esperanza, al menos sigo aquí, respirando, viviendo y escribiendo la misma mierda de siempre solo que ahora la ventana esta un poco mas abierta y ya no apesta tanto.

*siempre una cancioncita para sentirme mejor*

Confesiones de invierno, Sui Generis:

Me echó de su cuarto gritándome:
"No tienes profesióon"
Tuve que enfrentarme a mi condición,
en invierno no hay sol.
Hace frío y me falta un abrigo
y me pesa el hambre de esperar...
[ ]
Dios es empleado en un mostrador
da para recibir
Quién me dará un crédito, mi Señor?
sólo se sonreir.
[ ]
Hace cuatro años que estoy aquí
y no quiero salir.
Ya no paso frío y soy feliz
mi cuarto da al jardín.
Y aunque a veces me acuerdo de ella
dibujé su cara en la pared
solamente muero los domingos
y los lunes ya me siento bien...

Just shoot me before Monday comes...

noreply@blogger.com (SÍ, SOY...) — Sat, 13 Dec 2008 04:44:00 +0000

It's final's week and my stress level is waaaaay high, I cant sleep well, I cant eat well, I cant act well, I cant think well, I cant even brush my teeth well!

Oh why why why is College so damn hard!
For fucks sake im an art student and I fucking feel like im majoring to be a fucking literature professor! Im not against learning about literature and stuff but this English Medieval Lit class is gonna fucking make me go insane!!!

noreply@blogger.com (SÍ, SOY...) — Thu, 11 Dec 2008 08:25:00 +0000

Lester Bangs: They make you feel cool. And hey. I met you. You are not cool.
William Miller: I know. Even when I thought I was, I knew I wasn't.
Lester Bangs: That's because we're uncool. And while women will always be a problem for us, most of the great art in the world is about that very same problem. Good-looking people don't have any spine. Their art never lasts. They get the girls, but we're smarter.
William Miller: I can really see that now.
Lester Bangs: Yeah, great art is about conflict and pain and guilt and longing and love disguised as sex, and sex disguised as love... and let's face it, you got a big head start.
William Miller: I'm glad you were home.
Lester Bangs: I'm always home. I'm uncool.
William Miller: Me too!
Lester Bangs: The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what we share with someone else when we're uncool.
William Miller: I feel better.
Lester Bangs: My advice to you. I know you think those guys are your friends. You wanna be a true friend to them? Be honest, and unmerciful.

Te esperé diciembre...

noreply@blogger.com (SÍ, SOY...) — Wed, 03 Dec 2008 23:03:00 +0000

Tu llegada anuncia el final de un año que no quiero recordar, y si hubiera tenido la opción tampoco hubiera querido vividlo. Pasaron muchas cosas horribles tanto en mi vida como en el mundo y siempre al final surge la eterna duda de cuál será mi propósito en este desdichado universo, pienso que ya no hay esperanza en el mundo nuevo que quería, sino el futuro de un mundo que ya no tiene más para dar pero sí más por pedir. El futuro ya no es el nido de mis sueños e ilusiones, es la pesadilla de horror que nunca acabará y cada día más empeorara de modos inconcebibles por mi mente por que no soy capaz de pensar las atrocidades que están en la mente de los pocos que controlan este microcosmos. But, one year down and probably 50 more to go.

Sangre de pez

noreply@blogger.com (SÍ, SOY...) — Sun, 30 Nov 2008 22:29:00 +0000

Estoy enamorada del mar, su tacto, su olor, su presencia... Los hermosos paisajes que me da, sus ondas seductoras. El mar es una entidad en mi existencia; mi constante compañero, celoso, me acapara a un espacio cerrado donde solo puedo encontrar mi libertad en su lecho o la nostalgia en la distancia. Pero el problema radica en mi, no tengo sangre de pez en mis venas, como ser terrenal solo puedo aceptar nutrirme de sus olas para florecer.

La melancolía es mi eterna condena.

YO y yo

noreply@blogger.com (SÍ, SOY...) — Wed, 26 Nov 2008 01:14:00 +0000

Despues de tres meses de limpieza física, mental y emocional. He llegado a la realización de que hacía mucho tiempo que no compartía con mi YO. Por un momento me di cuenta que mi YO se vio perdido en la abundancia de la devoción. Devoción a todas las pequeñas insignificancias de lo mundano. Y a pesar de estar constantemente en movimiento y distracción, no logre mas que sentir el peso de mi propia soledad que se manifestó en las tragedias sucedidas. Utilizar la palabra tragedia es un tanto dramatico pero me parece correcta para ilustrar el despertar que causo en mi. Una concientización que era necesaria para poner en marcha mi caminar. Mi YO y yo tambien llegamos a la conclusión de que aunque no nos arrepentimos de todo lo pasado en su ausencia, coincidimos que mis decisiones fueron llevadas por impulsos facilitados por mi personalidad adictiva. Esa personalidad es el YO, siempre atento a nuevas formar de auto-destruirme lentamente, pero ese YO es parte de mi yo y necesitaba domarse, domesticarse y sanarse.

In the desert of silence

noreply@blogger.com (SÍ, SOY...) — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 18:50:00 +0000

Why does it always hurt to know its the end. I find myself thinking that all kinds of end, even the ones after a relationship is over are portals into an unknown world of sentimental uncertainty. It makes us feel scared, sad, strange to be left alone in a desert of unrequitted emotional silence. The end becomes the begginning of something that we are not a part of, what will that part be? will it be better than the parts we shared with the other person? or will it reaffirm the sentimental value of our entity for the other half of the relationship?

At this moment all I am left with is puzzling questions. Can we ever truly stop caring about someone we cared about? Can we care about someone else more than what we have cared before? Will we be happier with our future relationships? Will there BE any future relationships? Can someone love us like they did?

WE DONT KNOW.

Its funny, when you start getting comfortable with your old ghosts, you start realizing that ghosts will always be ghosts and in the end we will always be afraid of what effect they might have on our lives, wether it is haunting or enlightening.

*a lil something to pump me up

Hardwired to seek beauty

noreply@blogger.com (SÍ, SOY...) — Mon, 13 Oct 2008 08:14:00 +0000

"The most complete explanation of great works of art will address form, narrative content, ideology, how the work is taken in by the eye or mind, and indeed, how it can produce life-transforming pleasure. Darwinian aesthetics are about understanding the deepest nature of our apprehension of beauty."

Denis Dutton

I need a freak

noreply@blogger.com (SÍ, SOY...) — Mon, 13 Oct 2008 08:01:00 +0000

In these time of hate and pain
We need a rememdy to take us from the pain
Jealousy, a little greed
I've been thinking of what I need
I need a freak to hold me tight
I need a freak everyday and everynight
I need a freak to kiss me right
I need a freak to be my home computer site
I need a freak with curly hair
And when I need this freak I need her to be fair
I need a freak with flying curves
I need a superfreak to calm my nerves
I need a freak with long blonde hair
A superfreak in underwear
I need a freak to treat me right
I need a freak everyday and everynight
I need a freak, exclusively
So that she'll only come to satisfy me
I need a freak, I really do
I want a freak, one that acts and looks like you
I need a freak, hear what i say
I need a freak to get me thru the day
I need a freak to treat me right
I need a freak, everyday and everynight
I need a freak to hold me tight
I need a freak everyday and everynight
I need a freak with curly hair
And when I need this freak I need her to be fair
I need a freak to treat me right
I need a freak, everyday and everynight
I need a freak, I really do
I want a freak, one that acts and looks like you
I need a freak, hear what i say
I need a freak to get me thru the day
I need a freak to treat me right
I need a freak, everyday and everynight
I need a freak, everyday and everynight
I need a freak, everyday and everynight
I need a freak, everyday and everynight
I need a freak, everyday and everynight
I need a freak, everyday and everynight

Last year's Halloween

noreply@blogger.com (SÍ, SOY...) — Sat, 11 Oct 2008 07:04:00 +0000

Impulse-Control

noreply@blogger.com (SÍ, SOY...) — Thu, 18 Sep 2008 06:52:00 +0000

Not resisting impulses, drives, or enticements to do something harmful to themselves or others. Patients may or may not consciously try to resist the impulses, and they may or may not plan their behaviours. Patients sense increasing tension or arousal before they act; afterward, they experience feelings of pleasure, satisfaction, or freedom and may not feel sincere remorse, guilt or self-reproach.

So I was doing research on this subject because strangely enough I always seem to find myself in these kind of situations. The thing is I have come to realize that its difficult to accept that I appear to have no kind of self control, and the truth is that its actually very personal because most normal people dont react on impulses so much as I tend to do. I always try to blame people, the system and society, but I guess that for there to be a more harmonious way of living one must try and supress the impulses to actually physically hurt other people.

So here is one of the categories of Impulse-Control Disorders

Intermittent explosive disorder- episodes of agression resulting in harms to others.

This is the one that I think most affects me. One of the most common things that happen to me is that I litterally when am mad, or frustated with a person, especifically the male specimen, in an argument or in a moment of extreme dissapointment, etc. I tend to just freak out and slap the person in the face. I have actually been lucky enough to have never been slapped back but I guess I can be pretty scary when mad so most people just tend to let me be. In my life I have slapped a few guys in the face, punched a boyfriend in the face, vandalized cars and destroyed private property of old lovers. This is quite disturbing, no guy would ever want to date a girl that does things like these (not that I have done this to all, actually a minority but still...). Of course these things dont happen out of nothing, the men affected by my wrath are frankly kind of shitty and in a way deserved it, but the reality of the situation is that I am not the one to judge. So I dont feel bad for actually doing these things but I do wish I could have a better control of my impulses so that these kind of things dont happen really ever again.

These kind of actions are some of the reasons why people think im a little crazy, but in the end I must say that I dont consider myself a crazy person I just sometimes feel very passionately about some issues and express myself in that way. If you actually knew me you would find that im actually a good hearted person but I just dont deal that well with dissapointment and anger.

La piloto (The Pilot)

noreply@blogger.com (SÍ, SOY...) — Wed, 17 Sep 2008 07:08:00 +0000

Esta pintura, fue inspirada en la actríz alemana del siglo XX, Marlene Dietrich. Básicamente nació de mi interés en la imágen femenina rompiendo los estereotipos sexistas de la sociedad. Es una de mis primeras obras al óleo lo cuál fue un proceso nuevo para mí. Logre adaptarme con facilidad por la cualidad maleable de la pintura. Trabajar este nuevo medio fue un gusto abriendo todo un mundo nuevo de posibilidades. Oh, Marlene, quel visage!

Franka Potente's "I wish"

noreply@blogger.com (SÍ, SOY...) — Fri, 12 Sep 2008 22:17:00 +0000

I wish I was a hunter in search of different food
I wish I was the animal which fits into that mood
I wish I was a person with unlimited breath
I wish I was a heartbeat that never comes to rest
I wish I was a stanger who wanders down the sky
I wish I was a starship in silence flying by
I wish I was a princess with armies at her hand
I wish I was a ruler who'd make them understand

We went beyond all frontiers
Explosion it felt like an Explosion
and I swear I can still feel its vibrations

I know you're running and yet
you won't be close and really here
until you're right here in my arms
I will fall to the ground if you don't fly with me

Oh Baby, Oh, baby please please run and don't give up

I missed you so much demons will eat me up
if you're not here with me
I'll do as you say, don't be afraid
I won't leave you cause the world's all ours

We can be everything we want to but right now you're on your own

I wish I was a writer who sees what's yet unseen
I wish i was a prayer expressing what I mean
I wish I was a forest of trees that do not hide
I wish I was a clearing no secrets left inside

I am here because of you

we are lucky to still have time left till eternity
a piece of your existence is present within me
and I hold it close but it kills me to remember it all
cause it won't leave me alone
please stay with me, please forgive me
don't let it destroy you
we'll get out of here
if only we swear on love

If there is nothing else in this world that keeps us together
apart from what you give me when you love me

Baby, run run, please don't give up
I missed you so much
demons will eat me up if you're not here with me
I'll do as you say, don't be afraid
I won't leave you cause the world's all ours
we can be everything we want to when we're on our own

The two of us describe a silence that wraps up every noise
We both have a conscience and a confidence that can fill every room
you will miss me, too, when no one's with you
cause I want to know who you really are

I don't need you more than you need me
I don't need you more than you need me
I don't need you more than you need me
I don't need you more...

I wish I was a hunter in search of different food
I wish i was the animal which fits into that mood
I wish I was a person with unlimited breath
I wish I was a heartbeat that never comes to rest

I wish I was a forest of trees that do not hide
I wish I was a clearing of secrets left inside
I wish I was a stranger who wanders down the sky
I wish I was a starship in silence flying by

I don't need you more...

The Pest

noreply@blogger.com (SÍ, SOY...) — Thu, 11 Sep 2008 05:55:00 +0000

AGH!
Im sick of the pestilence of this wretched city. Not even the rain can wash away the stink of its streets. Filled with cockroaches corpses in my way. Were did all the flowers go? Must I live surrounded by this disgusting stench of living flesh?
No wonder why I have to drink myself to sleep.

Les Amours, XII

noreply@blogger.com (SÍ, SOY...) — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 03:58:00 +0000

J’espère et crains, je me tais et supplie,

Or’ je suis glace, et ores un feu chaud,

J’admire tout, et de rien ne me chaut,

Je me délace, et puis je me relie.

Rien ne me plaît sinon ce qui m’ennuie :

Je suis vaillant, et le cœur me défaut,

J’ai l’espoir bas, j’ai le courage haut,

Je doute Amour, et si je le défie.

Plus je me pique, et plus je suis rétif,

J’aime être libre, et veux être captif,

Cent fois je meurs, cent fois je prends naissance.

Un Prométhée en passions je suis,

Et pour aimer perdant toute puissance,

Ne pouvant rien je fais ce que je puis.

Pierre de Ronsard

El Olvido

noreply@blogger.com (SÍ, SOY...) — Wed, 25 Jun 2008 13:53:00 +0000

El olvido es favorable para los nuevos comienzos...

Olvido:
a) Hecho de perder la memoria o no recordar una cosa.
b) Hecho de dejar de hacer una cosa que debe hacerse.
c) Hecho de perder el trato o el afecto.

PONERSE MORBO

noreply@blogger.com (SÍ, SOY...) — Fri, 13 Jun 2008 15:49:00 +0000

ponerse morbo= querer matar a una persona con tantas ansias que los golpes solos no bastan para lastimar. Romper dientes, sacar ojos, cortarle las partes, arrancarle las uñas, arrancarle la lengua y hacersela comer por toda la mierda que hablo, golpear sus nalgas hasta que la sangre manche todo, desbaratarle los sesos en mil cantitos y ver como se deshacen, tirarle acido en la piel para que se descomponga y corroa todas sus partes, y despues de todo eso dejarlo en manos de los chinos para que inventen nuevas torturas con su cuerpo.

la muerte es demasiado dulce para un ser tan perveso.

Algo para alegrarme, entristecerme y quererme más.

noreply@blogger.com (SÍ, SOY...) — Sun, 08 Jun 2008 18:31:00 +0000

A la única Violeta
Si las azucenas no fueran blancas
Nunca serian VIOLETAS
Ni las margaritas , ni los girasoles
Ni las más hermosas flores
Que nacen en el firmamento .
No llores hermosa flor
Cuando las mariposas te muerden
Y las hormigas te roan.
Eres la única Violeta
Y te quieren llevar consigo ;
Pero Violeta UNICA TU.

Por la mas hermosa de las alondras.

Hauru no ugoku shiro

noreply@blogger.com (SÍ, SOY...) — Sat, 07 Jun 2008 18:45:00 +0000

Something pretty to make me smile, or perhaps to make me weep, something simply moving.

*Quiero...

noreply@blogger.com (SÍ, SOY...) — Sat, 07 Jun 2008 06:30:00 +0000

*Quiero, un cambio en mi vida, que nadie me moleste.
*Quiero que de algún modo llegue la paz a mi interior.
*Quiero, levantarme a una misma hora todos los días y dormir un sueño ininterrumpido.
*Quiero, perderme en la rutina, ser parte del sistema y desvanecerme lentamente.
*Quiero, olvidar todos los viejos amantes y desinteresarme por los futuros.
*Quiero, que desaparezcas en la rutina mecánica de mi existencia.
*Quiero, rechazar el miedo que lentamente me invade.
*Quiero, que ningún ser humano me ame.
*Quiero, sentir la total indiferencia.
*Quiero, no querer.
*Quiero.

Inicuo

noreply@blogger.com (SÍ, SOY...) — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 15:47:00 +0000

Que perversidad hay en mí, si lo único que deseo es amarte?

Pienso que los hombres son los verdaderos perversos. La falta de destreza en la coquetería, no los excluye de tener el talento de ser el ente más inicuo.