Hello,
more than two weeks I've been trying to write a post and have not been able. I do not know what I have and do not know if I want to say something. I remember when I started the blog written without difficulty several times a week, all even days. Perhaps, by then, were more willing now to have things in my life or maybe just had more imagination. You may not tired or maybe he was expecting that and I hope not.
more than two weeks I've been considering not to write in this blog. A little voice in my head screams, "No, do not, the people need you. When they are bored in their offices and get to surf the internet come to your favorites list and then you show them! What would them without you? Did you forget that behind all those people who writes you, you leave comments, insults you or send you love letters are human beings? Human beings with hearts that beat with cocks that are spliced \u200b\u200bwith pussies wet. You have a responsibility, Beta, and you can not fail them. "It is obvious that little voice is the result of delirium. I do not think so important. I do not consider important. Everyone can live without me. I myself I can live without me. To and ... how am I? I've become a caricature of myself, a character who can not discern between what is real and what is not. I've become a discussed. I have the right to opinions, everybody has it, but might have lost the taste for it. I do not know. As I write this post without having the facts straight.
could happen to twitter. Mucha people have done. Post telegrams of a line. But I've always hated twitter, I think the post is Curran. If Cervantes had tweeted have to see when it would have been the quixotic. Molinos "or giant? @ Miguelcervan
do not know. I am a sea of \u200b\u200bdoubt. On the one hand I think that blogs should have a lifetime and, if possible, a structure and logic. The problem is that when you have a dysfunctional life hardly can structure a blog. But yes, I have clear that they have a limited life, light one day and off another. No one is interesting enough to attract attention to the end. We all stages. You headline: "I was a slut" and count your life as such but not your whole life. And yes, maybe my mother is still so stupid as when I started writing, but she was not the protagonist.
Right now, all I have clear is that I want to become an obligation. I do not like prison. The first duty of a prisoner's escape plan. And it is June 30.
Besos. Beta
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