27/3

It's kind of creepy, you know. Everytime I try to move on, he mysteriously appears. I just said I think some random guy is cute and suddenly he just write to me. It's just like what the hell...? I mean, I've been thinking so many things about he and me, and you know I found some holes, that deserves to get my attention, in our relationship. Everytime I try to make me understand that we aren't meant to be together, something brings me back to this circle. I get it, that's the worst thing. But, now, in my life I want to be alone, and I think for me, he is a really good way. I am not denying me to be with someone because of him, but he is a really good company in the meantime.

27/3

Quizá yo esté tremendamente mal de la vista, pero él me parece lindo.  Just saying.

24/3

Él odia a la gente, o eso siempre me transmite, y ya está casi graduado. Estoy segura de que mis tíos son mucho más Dávalos que yo, y aún así son médicos. ¿Entonces que podría determe a mí? ¿A mí que no encuentro otro lugar para mi vida en un futuro que este camino?

*estoy tratando de estudiar y mi mente flies away instead of get focus into what I'm studying* Oh, spanglish again.

12/3

No entiendo por qué me encanta la soledad si detesto estar sola.

¿Esa acaso parte de esa lógica extraña de ser mujer? I gotta hate this.

6/3

-I don't know when we started to be best friends- she said.

-And I don't know when I started to feel so lonely- I said.

A really short story

There's a guy lying in his bed all worried about all those feelings he doesn't understand. And his mom comes around and says:
-Don't worry, sweetie. I'm pretty sure she'll figure out that you love her.
-No!- he said.- I don't want her to figure out that I love her, that'd be awful. I want her to figure out that she loves me.

The end.

P.S.: Everyone died. An asteroid crashed into the earth and everybody died. Too sad, but it's life.

1/3

Soy una muy feliz idiota. Hoy comencé un nuevo proyecto llamado: Para olvidar, conviertelo en literatura. Lo único que no me gusta es que no fui capaz de cambiar los nombres y por ello nunca podré hacerla pública. Es sobre ese periódo de mis 17 en los que fui feliz sin saber que lo era. Soy una idiota muy feliz porque aún en sabiendas que nunca podré volver atrás sonrío ante sus fotos y sus recuerdos, y soy feliz. No puedo amar, porque estoy enamorada de un recuerdo (otra vez) y soy feliz. Soy feliz con mi soledad. Soy feliz con mi idiotez. Soy feliz con Jm.