FUCK YOU

fuck, I'm so fucking alone.

well hello, horribly pathetic world. it's been a while. do you hate me too?
would you let me in?
hell at least i'm trying something, as lame as it may be.
-
I actually want to just kick him in the face. Like, repeatedly.
With really high sharp heels.
-
god I'm so horribly numb. I actually can't see a thing outside me.
Me me me me me. Not fun.

que es un soplo la vida..

She's making dinner for two (three?) while he's playing guitar, taking a shower, or god knows what.
She's singing a song while watching the rice (her son playing on the kitchen floor).

"Mi vieja cantaba, a veces, un tango, y sus ojos se llenaban de otro lugar"

i think he was right.

I'm taking a look at my process.

You know, how did I got to the point in which I was so lonely and fucked up I found comfort on his best friend? I don't think I've wondered that enough.

Anyway, I was checking out my year and it hit me. 

I wasn't unhappy. We weren't disaster. He was right.

Up until the moment I woke up and gained conscience of what I've done, we were on a really good place. We weren't fighting, actually, we had barely fought at all for like, five months.

We were perfectly happy. I mean, not, but I was no sad little girl lost in the woods.

Damn it, I really wish I'd remember that night. It would come in handy to know what the fuck was I thinking.

this is my message to you-ou-ou

don't worry about a thing
'cause every little thing is gonna be alright

I'm gonna make it through this day.

     And I'm gonna do it in heels.

..maybe then i can get a good night sleep..

and this is where i start to hesitate, where it starts to hurt.

where i'm weak and i look back as a walk away

and i turn to salt.

i have been here before.

on this very day, no wonder.

but i don't wanna be salt.

the temptation to turn around is big, as to stay in my comfort place

to settle for what's familiar. to choose the safe rout i know by heart.

i refuse to settle. i refuse to be a statue.

and there it is, a sunshine waiting for me ahead.

bullshit.

I'm ok
You're ok
Everything's fine and I don't mind. No we don't mind.
Everything's great and nothing change.
Just like brother and sister. Only not.

The ingenuity annoy me. How could it possibly be the same?
Everything you said you loved is gone. It can't be.
Now it's weird. And we're not comfortable.
That's not ok.

It is different for you. It is different for me.
I don't want to be your sister.
It doesn't work like that. It doesn't work like this.
If I'm not comfortable, if you are not comfortable.
We can't talk, we can't laugh, we can't joke.
It doesn't work like this.

I just hope it works.
Maybe it'll work just fine. And then in time.
God I hope it works.

I mean, seriously, it's just sex!

choices, choices

The what ifs are always there. What if I would had bought the blue dress? What if I'd had a pizza instead of a yogurt? Well this are my what ifs.

What if I wouldn't had called him? What if I wouldn't had fucked things up with Ale?
What if I would had stayed with Fran? What if I wouldn't had taken him back?
What if I would had chosen him?

Don't get me wrong. I don't have any regrets. Almost. They're just what ifs.
Would'a, Could'a, Should'a.
Little sharp questions that will pinch my butt forever 'cause I'll never have the answer.

What if I would had chosen him?

kicking myself.

How can I be so stupid?

How could I've learned nothing in all these years?

How could I possibly resist those eyes?

How can I fall for it again?

Find myself in this oh so very familiar situation.

But no, I have learned. Not enough, obviously, but some things.

I won't let it spread. I won't be an ass about it.

I won't hold on to it. Quite the opposite.

At least I'm honest, with him and myself.

And I know better how to handle it.

And even if it got to be bad. And oh, it can be bad.

Even so, I'm good.

Have a routine to hold on to, have a number of distractions available.

Oh, but I have to admit, it feels so good.

To relax, to just feel it. To feel it again.

Damn, it feels so good.

PS.

And then I choose him.

Not that I have anything other to go for..

Just saying. Daily, as part of the routine.

Never really considered not to.

have you seen the little piggies -not-

It's weird, but I feel like I hardly know her anymore.

I don't know her expressions, I don't recognize her people.

It's sad. Real sad.

And then there's the new friends.

New, awesome, smart, funny, perfect, in love with a friend of mine new friends.

How swell. (easy there, honey bun, off limits)

And then there's the slightly less new friends

who seem amazing. And who apparently likes to keep me waiting.

And mixed signals. And I'm so fucking horrible at this.

And then there's the always wonderful him.

Doing the same old things. Wonderful and not so much.

And then there's the nausea. And the shivering. And the soared body.

And the mass media-created panic.

And then there's the longings. And how much I fucking hate him.

oh, the guilt. and chaos.

I used to brag about my inability to feel guilty. Man, those were the days.

I feel it growing in me, dark and twisted. I can feel it spreading.

It messes with my head, it makes me act stupid. Stupider.

I can't even look at him. Hug him.

I jump every time he kisses me.

And it's not like I'm doing anything wrong. Really.

But he's being so very good to me. So, so good.

It's just chaotic. And, let's face it, slutty.

But it sort off makes me happy. Momentarily, but really happy.

A hug, a kiss, a touch, a smile. A smart comment. A nice thought.

And there's something about both of them. I just fall.

And then there's the more extended chaos.

The dreaming. Oh, the dreaming.

escena conyugal.

- Les voy a decir que cuando ellos se estaban tomando el bondi para ir al laburo, yo estaba teniendo sexo.
Me reí mientras lo miraba irse a bañar. Le preparé dos sandwiches de salame y queso, y se fue.
Yo encontré mi remera, me la puse y estuve toda empillamada. Era tan cómoda. Me acosté en su cama de dos plazas ahora toda para mi.
Todo era perfecto, excepto por el dolor de panza y la culpa.

girl has a thing for artists.

A former anarchist I just had to have, and got to trust me.

A soul musician who was the smartest and sweetest and.

An art lover who turned into the most amazing of men.

A simple guy with a lot more to him than what meet the eye.

An unbelievably talented artist who became my best friend.

A charming performer who dazzled me with his words.

I know how to choose my man.

"The guy who gave me my first kiss and haven't seen since and now has a band with my ex"

"My dad's girlfriend's daughter's ex boyfriend"

I knew how to choose my man.

The little rich bitch's school former leader of the student council.

It would certainly make a nice addition.

Uhm, that guy. I bet that would be fun.

And then there's her..

to live in wonderland.

to share a weekend with him. to feel at home at his home.

to fall asleep and wake up together.

to get kicked out of bed by the evil, evil sun.

to have great sex. a lot of great sex.

to go out to town, to smile a lot, to hold his hand.

to allow myself to feel. to know he's a wonderful man.

to finally feel loved.

to watch bad airplanes movies. a lot of bad airplane movies.

to eat whatever we found lying around.

to get over little petty fights.

to be very aware of the big fragile bubble we made around us.

and to not care at all.

to go back to the real world, in which he's not.

and not to crumble.

to be able to see the difference.

to know he's there. and he's, most of all, my friend.

to get a break from the overwhelming loneliness.

and go back a little better, for a little while.

that was my birthday gift.

just what I wanted.

dislikes.

There are very little things I don't like about my "college" thing.

I don't like that it's filled with people younger than me in the morning.
I don't like waking up at 6am twice a week.
I really don't like having to go straight to work afterwards, it's very restrictive.
I don't like freacking out and spend two hours thinking if that guy in my class is him.
I hate not being able to buy coffee at 7 in the morning, when it's most needed.
I don't like that the political stuff is so taken over by parties. I don't feel comfortable with it.
I don't like that some teachers don't even know how to speak properly.
I don't like runing into the slut that spent quality time with my ex in a hotel's hot tub at the coffee machine. I really don't.

It's gotten to the point where it hurts. We need to talk.

misc

i don't think there could be a more man-like side without a girl to do the counterpart
so it's really all her fault, with her pretty face and her pretty walk and all.

only that man-like side got independent from her pretty self, now i'm boyish with my boy-friend
(not boyfriend, just boy who's a friend, asdsasda). it's fun thou. and on that subject, good.
keep it under control and you'll have yourself a great stress-releaser.

and i'm back at fourteen year old, daydreaming and all. only i'm not as stupid as i was.
part of the whole time machine thing. fun and harmless. and he really is so talented. mmmh hm.

...and when i'm lonely, cherry's there, and she plays along while i sing out my blues
i could be crying and you don't care, you won't call me back you're stubborn as a mule...

messy modern life

thing is, fuck.
having feelings, having friends, having friends who have feelings.
messing up. alcohol's a sweet excuse, but some things are just too obvious and irresistible.
some things you've known all along are gonna happen, and yet have unexpected consequences.
and some things just take you totally by surprise. and that's fucking good.

attraction is a great word. and a great thing.
it's one powerful force. specially when it's wrong. mmmmh wrong.
so what happens after we give in to that force? when the wrong is not so wrong anymore?
luckily, complications and wrongness are everywhere, and i'll find many excuses to keep it interesting,
at least for a while.
and we all know i'm gonna keep messing up, i'm an endless fount of tasty mistakes.

i'm gonna have to make A LOT of mistakes to keep me occupied.
as for tonight, i have enough to keep me from thinking what the fuck is he doing online.

luciernagas.

February 19th
- Sabés qué? Cambié de opinión. Mejor dame vos tu teléfono, no me voy a aguantar la ansiedad...
Lo miró y sonrió. Decidió que si iba a llamarlo.
- Yo te llamo.

February 22nd
- Mirá! Un avión.

February 25th
- Sigue chocando el auto! Cuántas veces puede hacer el mismo chiste?

March 2nd
- Cómo que no se puede llegar al mar en Buenos Aires?

March 4th
Mientras abría la puerta de madera con cuidado, se dió vuelta a mirar al chico que estaba detras de la reja.
- Este.. es un final perfecto.
- No es un final.
Sonrió. No le creyó en absoluto.