Jodido pero contenta! I am fucked up, but content! Don't look at me with that face. Sex always better when you don't have the worry about tomorrow. So finish your job. I am finished. I need to take a rain check. Recently I discovered being with someone has no difference with being with no one. Yes, it's always great to have a long term plant cactus or (cocktus) set by your window. However what will it do for you? Still I am fucked up this morning but content. Made love in gibberish. Didn't take time to check out my bank account. My bank account is fucked up and I am content too...:)))) So what? I don't bother going out. I easily catch cold from a soft drift. I have a head ache. Too much whisky and wine in my blood. Tired of writing in "the other language". So I am taking initiative to communicate with you in the cyber space in "another language" again. There is no end to this desire of mine insisting "another language" . Again? Never mind my mistake! Instead of putting my mother milk out in the bottle making cheese out of it for you like the Chef in New York, I could've make an alcoholic drink out of it for you. Or I could lay on my ass in nude in Bryant park New York like a statuette. Life is about this vagabond living moments and getting fucked up but being content. I am in the constant search of real love. I discovered the only real love is in me. My own Vagina:))))) I'm writing like a wild woman. Don't be scared I won't bite you. I just remembered how many guys stepped all over this body. I can recount them for you. More than you and I can count. None of them loved me. They just loved to be with me. So I am fucked up, but content. So what? I decided to start smoking and wear leafs instead a dress. Dye my hair to blond. Totally experiment the life all over again. I will leave to go somewhere and never come back. What would've happen if I was living in the village somewhere? Like Latin America. What if I dance and sing and write nights and days and get fucked up and be content? .....Anyway through out your blonde hair my hand goes through in the dark. Your skin is very Guar ( white) you are like a cotton ball. You are silent to me and to the darkness. I can imagine you are anybody now. Lets not lift up the veil of this night! Somehow I love you now. But tomorrow all I want to be is jodida pero contenta! Fucked up but content!
