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need to write ... in this new version of what I start to be (which is nothing more than the old version of myself, but remastered) I found myself face to face with emotional and sentimental, I can not help that is what I am.

need to say, I have to. I've never stopped loving you, or a minute or a second or a moment I stopped loving you with every inch of me, with all the force of the fucking world, with all my condemned soul ...

Is it worth all this mean?

... "Of course it's worth
- life will be worth a gamble
idea that may be false? -clear
worth ... "

tells me Don Nica cute ear.

In this beautiful and painful delirium of love from afar I've learned to understand you, I've learned to accept I may have made mistakes and am learning to bancármelas, banks the consequences of what I destroyed myself, I'm gritting his teeth and looking forward, I'm hitting me in the hands for not writing any email that can interfere with your decision, I'm biting my lip to keep from going to the apartment's window and yell that I love you to rip your throat, to be without a voice ... dying to call and hang up only to hear you say "Hello?" well, as nice as you say, but it is wrong.

But ... I can not help but love you, I can not miss you, I can not dream with you, asleep or awake, I can not help calling you in silence with all senses and at the same time, I can not help wanting you I can not help wait, I can not help it, I can not write all this in my blog, even at the risk of no longer visit and not read it ever.

temperance I have needed to do what I should not. I have the ovaries
necessary for banking where I belong.
But mostly, I have this heart belongs to you.
"and there is a bit of soul in the middle of this hell that question for you" (that piece of soul has a name)

I love you, no matter anything, that I was not going to take ever.

"You are what you love, Fhayruz -

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I LOVE YOU THE IDEA IS THAT ... FINDING OUT WHERE

I take that I'm still mad thanks to whistle-mariguanérico therapeutic self-prescribe and leave me in the deep and delve into a subject to which I referred in the last post ... "I concluded that I am beautiful because I have only wanted to be, just because I have wanted to feel that way "...

Beauty is something very, very subjective in the early s. Women XX "ideal" average five feet and weighed about sixty-three kilos (with my five feet four and my fifty-seven kilos, proportionately speaking, I, if I lived at the beginning of last century would be perfect ... modesty aside) is more even, if we remember the African tribes and some of the rituals performed to beautify and royalties as "beauty" we have an exaggerated example of what I say.

The concept of beauty that we have today, slender, not muscular, athletic self, silky hair, zero fat, glowing skin, less than thirty, eternally young, with all the time ahead, is a prototype that has been thrust force and Vaseline in our subconscious for years on media, advertising and marketeo, beauty, today is not just another way to sell, sell, sell, sell image, sell the prototype, make that mine does not look anything like the model buy the mineral water business, the drink, that pack of cigarettes, the beer, you want that rag, you look like her, so have taught, they have learned.

In summary, discuss fees eternal beauty is so vague and useless as arguing about religion, politics or football ... I remembered a movie I loved as a kid "The Gods Must Be Crazy" that of an African tribe that includes a bottle of coca-cola falls from an airplane and is the pure bitch, that. In that movie there is a scene where a gringo is undressed and stares at the black and mine feels haunted by half this crazy psychopath and clear, the black looks very fixed and rare, but that is horrible and strange.

The beauty does not exist, is a concept, an idea, therefore is not absolute, on the contrary, as I said is something wholly subjective, the prototype of beauty in ancient Greece century AC II (Venus de Milo) is quite different from the baroque beauty prototype of the Middle Ages and the s. XXI, however, the ancient Greeks, the baroque, medieval people and the current are virtually identical be several in a couple of inches and we live longer, but physically we are almost the same, identical but has varied is the concept of beauty, the prototype.

Well ... does it matter so much beauty in reality? I recognize vain and sometimes pretentious, I think I heard half of my life and has been raised with that "tomorrow we start a diet, Carlita" "Enter the wadding, Carlita", "take off some embellishment, please Carlita", "You're getting fat again, Carlita" and the truth is that I do not know if I want both, that's when you realize that they are learned things that not necessarily true, which is not necessarily all, one sees how it feels.
words, does it matter so much beauty? Perhaps if I ever pass a car and into the pit of the face and the wea I stay forever shattered as plasticine would still perhaps is not the same person I am today? When one realizes that starts to love and be beautiful, but for other things. I'm cute just because I have wanted to be.

know that all this may sound superficial, but damn! Damn! I have boycotted the life worrying about such things, and when I say I do not mean trying to make a desperate figure of speech, I mean in its most literal sense, I had to hit me the worst thumping of my life to realize this I have been the most foolish of the world and I had to stick cachuchazo worst of my life to realize this. I'm pretty

only because I have wanted to be. I end with this phrase that I really loved.

"You're what you love, Fhayruz -

Discovering

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oneself can only amount to find a lost treasure ... is equivalent to finding what you always needed so much so that after discovery of himself, one wonders how on earth could manage to live without knowing anything about what goes on inside you, how fuck not searched before.

discover not only beautiful, stands to be able to understand, to forgive things, mistakes, defeat fears, correct, understandable, made love, begin to love ... rebuilt. And if you come

Mrs. Mommy and begins to tell you you're fat again, you're getting fat, that from Monday, "we go on a diet" you feel free and the strength to say: I like as I see it. And not wanting to humpback, or contradict him, but it's true that after a lot of laps and give it much thought, after working a lot I have reached the conclusion that I am beautiful because I have only wanted to be, only because I have wanted to feel that way.

learned a new concept called "opposition" from the psychological point of view people with oppositional traits tend to be very critical of the media and of themselves, that is my ghost, my grenmlin, my dwarf that which interfered with I tried everything and fucked me telling me I was not going to, that I went, which was not worth it so called "opposition." And no one is born with this guy put into his head, is very common for parents to reinforce this castrating authoritarian personality trait ... discovered can realize this kind of thing, not everything bad that happens within you necessarily incorrigible ... I have been on the verge of sabotage, I've seen about to bite me myself with a stick, I've been on the brink of a car and I managed to stop boycott, because I know it's not me, is the grenmlin . In this I am!

"You are what you learn, you are what you love, Fhayruz -

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NO LONGER HAVE YOU ... Arrancame life, with everything I have and god damn you my suffering, that god damn you I love you ... TWENTY DAYS

Where ya do not I have,
has grown a shame
That spider inside me. Where
no longer do I have,
From time to sigh,
stings me feeling. Where
no longer do I have,
joy He left without power,
say goodbye to me,
And there's a bit of soul, Where
no longer do I have,
That question for you.

Life is a candle,
That the wind fades,
The sea has become tears, I have been paved
heaven
And it hurts so much the day, the sun
evaporated, and pain
seems that I'm just
.

That damn you God,
That I, I can not. Arráncame
life
With everything I have,
And God damn you,
My suffering. Where

no longer do I have, I kept seeing
flight
a tear in the wind. Where
no longer do I have, I open
me your love, and everything was
winter. Where
no longer do I have, I turn the sky is
,
And the sky fell on me,
And there's a bit of soul,
In the middle of this hell,
That question for you.

That damn you God,
That I, I can not
Arráncame life
With everything I have,
And God damn you,
My suffering. Arráncame
life
With everything I feel,
And God damn you,
That I love you, God damn you
That,
That I, I wait.




-Rosana Arbelo-

"You are what you love ..." where you no longer I have, " Fhayruz -

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CATACLYSM A DIME WHERE YOUR FAITH!

DIME

Tell me where is the faith
that collapses when you do not tell me where you see

love if you go, if I lose you, tell me. Where will
stop the grief
if you start to miss, and
tell me where I go, I do without you.

Tell me, tell
I want to know, where I'm going to fall
where you can not find the wings of the wind

tell me, tell
I want to know how I can return to light
light, off. Tell me where you


faith when there is nothing to believe
tell me where is the love
when feelings
without you die inside. Not wanting to fight

born a creed and a sky always close
but tell me if there is a credo for my
if I'm without you.

Tell me, tell
I want to know, where I'm going to fall
where you can not find the wings of the wind

tell me, tell
I want to know how I can re
to turn the light on, off.
-Rossana
Arael-

"You are what you love, you are where you love, Fhayruz -