te amo!
te echo de menos

you love me, you just can't be around me

Tell me where's your hiding place
Im worried that I forget your face ♪

name: xxxxxxxxxx
age: 18
eyes: TWO
1. do you wanna date me or just fuck me? NEITHER! HEHE. I WANNA BE WITH YOU.
2. if i was ever kidnapped by jewish communist, how would you save me? YES. USING AN ARMY OF MAKESHIFT NAZIS
3. care if i have sex with vegetables in front of you? GO AHEAD IF I HAVENT DONE IT ALREADY.
4. do you have sex with vegetables? MINES CALLED xxxx.
5. favorite letter of the alphabet? J
6. what type of cookies do you like with your milk? PLAIN CHOC CHIP
7. how often do you bathe? EVERY OTHER DAY.
8. thoughts on body hair? GROW IT ALL. ITS NATURALLY THERE FOR A PURPOSE. DONT LET SOCIETY TELL U WHAT MAKES U ATTRACTIVE! IF IT WAS UP TO ME, WOMEN WUD NEVER SHAVE.
9. how about them drugs? THEM DRUGS? WHAT DRUGS?
10. ever cheated? NOPE.
11. are you a very jealous person? ONLY WHEN I AM JEALOUS. BUT RARELY IS ANYONE BETTER THAN ME.
12. favorite thing about me? BRAINS.
13. least favorite thing about me? DISTANCE.
14. are you outrageously rich? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
15. do you like poop, pooping, or poopy things? WHY NOT.
16. your thoughts on mashed potatos? ONLY WITH VEGETARIAN GRAVY.
17. describe me in no more than 3 words. RANDOM, FORIEGN, CARING
18. pick your nose? AND EAT THE BOGEYS.
19. pick your nose while having sex? BE BETTER THAN COMING WITH A BLOCKED NOSE.
20. pick your nose while having sex with a vegetable? I READ A QUIZ LIKE THIS SOMEWHERE BEFORE...
21. your thoughts on JOHN LYDON? CLASS ACT
22. if we were to go on a date, what would YOU want to do? HAVE A NICE TIME
23. tell me (concisely) why i should date you. YOU SHUDNT.
24. do you have any food allergies? if so, what? MEAT IS MURDER.
25. do you have any skills? for instance, do you know the difference between prada and lacoste? CUNT GIVE A FLYING FAT FUCK.
and one last survey…
Wud U?
[go out with me?]: Y
[give me your number?]: Y
[make out with me?]: Y
[take care of me if i were sick?]: Y
[sleep over at my place?]: Y
[go to the movies with me?]: Y
[get drunk alone with me?]: Y
[take a shower with me?]: Y
[wear ku klux klan outfit just because i say so?]: Y
[have sex with me?]: Y
[let me kiss you?]: Y
[watch a movie with me...even a really dumb one?]: Y
[do an MRI?]: WTF
[drive me for once cuz I always drive?]: Y
[be my bf/gf?]: Y BOTH ;-)
[have a fling with me?]: Y
[Listen to me if I called you with a crisis even if you were out with all of your friends?]: Y
[buy me a drink?]: Y
[take me home for the night?]: Y
[let me sleep in your bed?]: Y
[let me sleep in your dad's bed?]: N
[let me sleep in your dad's bed with your dad in it?]: N
[sit in the doctors office with me because I didn't want to go alone?]: Y


thanks for reading this. fuck you but have a nice day

Miserable

Molesta. Huevea. Pica

Y a veces no deja dormir. Convierte las noches en mañanas ojerosas.

Ochenta kilos golpeandose en un rincón, resignados a las lágrimas negras.

No hay nada que decir, no hay besos, no hay lógica.

Pero molesta. En todo el cuerpo.

Huevea.

El rechazo huevea.

El amor es un perro del infierno

El amor es un perro del infierno - Los buitres

Mal heridos por el tiempo
aferrados a un pesar
flagelantes dignos del dolor
que lastíma a los demás
Vistiendo de ironía el fuego eterno
arrastrando largas noches a la
sombra de la ciudad
burlandose de los borrachos
que salen de este bar
vomitando a solas vuestras penas
Mas cuando su aliento está cerca de mí
la tierra se abre y el mar parece rugir
la vida no exige una explicación
y todo el libreto se va en una gota de ron
Y el amor es un perro del infierno
Predicadores impostores
del deber y del poder
mercenarios de la sumisión
de la joven embriaguez
Cuantos cayeron en tu máquina de la verdad
revisionistas hasta del placer
con cuidado que esta vez
a alguien va a morder
La lengua es una ruleta rusa
mas cuando su cuerpo esta cerca de mí
la tierra se abre y el mar parece rugir
su rito de carne es mi bendicion
el beso sagrado al morir una revolucion
Y el amor es un perro del infierno

Safety pins Part one

"Fuckin' 'ell..."

Through a haze, I slam the toilet door open and take a few steps. The room's spinnin'... I close my eyes, wipe my nose, snort, wipe my nose and try again. Stars're swimmin' in the corners of my eyes and I think I really oughta sit down... "Wassamatta?"

My eyes focus on Eric for a fraction of a second before everything slips into obscurity again. He looks like a complete wanker, his over-animated features are contorted in a worried frown over the state I'm in and makes him look even more daft than usual. "Whadya think?" I meant to make that a sneer but the words come out all slurred. I try to walk past him to the living room but - fuck - I stumble on my own fuckin' feet. He catches me as I fall and suddenly I'm pressed against him, my face buried in his black leather jacket. Eric's a fuckin' victim so his own fuckin' vanity, why else's he still wearing that thing inside? My ear's gettin' warm from his naked skin and I can hear his heartbeat - he's scared now, the cunt. Stupid sod's never able to put two and two together. 'Emma goes to the toilet with some weird stuff I just bought her and comes out all fucked up - what coulda 'appened?' Eric shifts nervously from foot to foot but I can't bring myself to move just yet. "Emma?" he asks gently, whining as if I'm about to fuckin' die on him or something twice as nasty. I grunt something inaudibly in reply and take a deep breath to fill my nose with the smell of his warm skin instead of that cheap flu. Hesitantly, he puts his arms around me, trying his best to make me feel better, but I don't need comfort, I need to sit down and have something to drink. "Fuck, Eric," I say and this time I manage to make it a sneer. "Juss 'elp me sit down an we can make out la'er." Eric tenses at my words and lets his arms fall down to his sides. Immediately, I get colder and shiver involuntarily. "'M sorry," he mumbles and helps me walk over to an armchair to sit down. I close my eyes and let my head fall back against the wall, listening to how my breath as it calms down and gets more even. He's still by my side, obviously worried, but I still don't say anything to comfort him. If he wants to stand around all day like some thick prat or other, that sure as hell ain't my problem. Eric draws a breath to speak, shifts foot again. Pulls his fingers back until they make a snappin sound, nervous bastard. He does that one more time an I'll fuckin jump him, drugged up or not. He draws another breath and lets it go. "What the fuck diya want?!" I glare at him. Can't he just lemme be? "Uh, Emma?" "Yess," I hiss testily. "What is it, Eric?" "Stay awake?" He looks down at me with pleading eyes and what he's really trying to get across is, stay alive. "Dude! I'm not gonna fuckin die, okay? Look, my skin ain't changing colour, my eyes aren't fallin' out, I'm not ODing or anything. I'm feeling sick, thassall, and you standin around ain't 'elpin!" Every little hair on my body stands up straight on edge from the cold. I sigh. "Wanna 'elp?" he nods. "Then gemme a blanket." "Can't, they're all icky." "Well, maybe you shoulda thought 'bout my survival before you brought all those cunts 'ome!" His eyes darken and he shrugs. "I never counted on you endin' up like 'is," he says. "Fuck, I never counted on you to bring 'ome some shit to make me end up like 'is!" I yell at him. "And besides, I'm not endin' up, I just feel like throwin' up, and if you just lemme be, I'll be allraight!" I stare at him and he looks down on me, his stupid hazel eyes are reduced to narrow slits. I know it's old, I know it's been said a thousand times before, but Eric looks just like a kicked puppy and I know just what he's gonna say before he's opened his mouth to say it. "Don't," I tell him. He looks at my arms and lets his jacket slide down over his shoulders. The room's fuckin freezing but I know his skin is as hot as a fever. Even when he's cold and bitchin' about it, he's hot, that's about as much logic you'll ever get around him. I know this from all the nights we've spent together, taking turns on holding each other down and buttin out cigarettes on each other's torsos and forearms. When it's good, when we've got enough drinks and drugs, playing with knifes and the likes can last a whole night through. I'll straddle him with my legs and he'll be sprawled out on the floor with a pervert's grin on his face as I cut him or burn him with whatever he hands me. Moaning, squirming, toying with his own blood - he doesn't even pretend as if it doesn't get him off better than those fucking groupies he picks out from the concerts and, truth to be told, I love it just as much as he does. I guess that makes us both sick to the core. I know other ways I could make him moan and squirm and it's on nights like those when I can barely keep myself from tryin'. I'd love to and he knows it, dares me to but I chicken out each and every time. Eric's a fuckin' psycho and if I take the wrong step, I'd end up in a bloody mess.Yeah, that's Eric -logic for ya. Now he's offering me his beloved jacket and I look at the scars that covers his pale skin, some red and fresh, some old and white... I did some, some he did himself. Some he never speaks of. Then, suddenly, the door slams open and two offenders fall down on the floor in a chuckling mess. John helps Nick up and they go hooray over the fact that he can still stand up on his own. Then they turn to look at Eric. "Ohoo, lookie-lookie, I daresay we're interrupting' something!" John nudges Nick in the side and they start giggling again, this time at us. I glare angrily at them, but John can't ever seem to take a hint. "Go on, don't mind us." To a drunk, high fucker with a mentality of a twelve-year-old, sure, it might've looked a bit suspicious. Two half-naked band mates strippin' down to wearing nothing but bondage trousers. Ha ha.
“Where's my shirt?” Right now I'm not in the mood for any of it. "Shut up, you fuckin' baby!" "Oh come-on, can't take a joke?" John gives me an annoyed look, as if I'm the one who's actin' childish. "Eric, stop fuckin' nursin' me." I snatch his jacket from his hand. "You ain't me fuckin' mum, 'lright?" "Emma," he whines, drawing another chuckle from the daft duo in the doorway. That's it. A week, couple o' weeks, that's for how a joke's still funny but these lads are up in months now and I can't even remember where they got it from. I stand up, determined to walk over and get at least one good hit before I'm knocked to the ground. But suddenly my eyes don't work like they ought to and my knees go weak as over-boiled spaghetti under me. Eriic moves, quick as lightning and - fuckin' clumsy sod - I'm in his arms the second time in about fifteen minutes. He catches me and holds me still with one hand firmly on my hip, the other on my shoulder. Can't say the day's turning out bad, so far. "Stop fuckin' laughing," he yells to them. "She can't 'elp it!" "No," John agrees. "After all, who can resist your embraces, eh cunt?" "Don't call me that!" I'm the only one who can call him that, it's my name for him and they all fuckin' know it. Eric's smart comments aren't helping much. His hands are still on me and right now that's about as far as I can think. Me head's stopped spinning by now and I could probably stand on my own, but he's smooth and warm and why bother? Not every day I get an excuse as good as this one. I blink lazily and Nick frowns. "Shit, Emma," he slurs. "Wha' 'ave you done now, eh? We leave you two alone five seconds maximum and you manage to fuck yerself up like this ev'ry time." I can't even be arsed with tellin him off anymore. "Get 'er t lie down, Eric," John orders and Eric's hand moves up to my shoulder, try to shake some life into me. "Emma? Let's go to bed, right? Fuck me; you can't even stand on yer own." "Wha' is this yer tellin me?," I murmur sarcastically and sigh at John's helpless giggling. "John, you stupid fuckin' cunt, yer like a three-year old, probably still fascinated like fuck by your own snot, ain't ya?" Eric's lips brushes past my ear, making me quiver all over, as he murmurs to me to calm down and ignore them and I gloom at my own reactions. I'll put it down to frustration and I'm only mortal, right? I let him guide me to the kitchen and the unmade, untidy mess of covers and blankets and stained pillows before I return his jacket. Then I practically throw myself at it before I even realise where I am. I squirm uncomfortably and look up at him accusingly. "Fuckin'... Eric, this is your bed." "Yeh, but yours' still full o blood." John's back at it again, asking me something about a rough last night. "I'll give you one if you don't piss off!" I yell. I close my eyes and relax while Eric pulls the blankets out from under me and tucks me in, covering my bare stomach, chest, all the way up to my mouth. If only I'd been meself I'd have nothing of this but if he enjoys taking care of me I can just as well give 'im this chance. The best thing with drugs and booze is that it gives you an excuse to fuck things up. "Don't fall asleep on me, Emma" Eric shakes me and I groan irritably. "Oi, open yer eyes!" "Oi yerself! You fucking tell me, howz it possible to sleep with you around?" John and Nick's finally realised there ain't gonna be much fun 'round here in the next five or so hours and starts to pack their things together again. "Awright you wankers." John opens the door and smiles mockingly. "We're headin out for some company that's a bit more alive, if you don't mind..." "Yeh," Nick sniggers. "Stay at it, Emmy. Eric, do what it takes to keep 'er up, alright? Just go easy on her." "Good riddance," I shriek back at them. "Ey, wait up." Eric looks at the pair with pleading eyes. "I'm hungry. Can you get us somethin' to eat? I can't leave 'er 'ere." John rolls his eyes and walks out. "Sure thing." The door slams shut behind them and I can finally relax. Eric walks out and starts rummaging 'round in the living room, humming tunelessly to himself. Eric's bed's soft and warm and reeks of his sweat and spunk; I don't mind. I lost my sense for what's disgusting a long time ago when I arrived to this country. And I haven't missed it since. There's many ways he coulda got these sheets so dirty in such a short time and though it really is an interesting thing to think about, I find myself on the edge of drifting off again. Each blink of an eyelid makes the clock turn another quarter, but with each one my head gradually clears. What Eric's up to, I have no idea about until his voice comes thought to me. "I'll have none o that, señorita . 'Ere, have a smoke." The bed shifts under his weight when he sits down beside me. I part my lips obediently, close 'em around the cigarette and suck it agilely when he lights it for me. I smile a sly smile at him and open my eyes lazily; the grin he gives me back is crooked and tainted by mischief and dirt. "Too bad you got yerself so completely fucked up, otherwise we coulda 'it the town with the others. Even though there ain't much goin on on a Friday night, I was lookin' forward to gettin' pissed and maybe raising the occasional hell..." "Yeh, bad for yer." I raise my eyebrows mockingly and let the smoke escape my mouth. "With my own Emmy by my side, what else could I possibly want?" "Oh, I dunno... a drink, perhaps?" He chuckles at the greedy expression on my face as he pulls up a bottle of scotch from under the bed. "Where'd that come from? Give it 'ere!" Eric teases and takes a long sip, sighs theatrically and generally acts as if the bottle contained the elixir of life, oh god, what a taste. The only thing he's really enjoying is the look on my face as I reach out for it in a feeble attempt to take it. Mean sod. "Don't be a dick," I whine. "Gimme some. I'm sick for fucksakes!" Eric's smile turns grim. "Now now, I think we're forgettin' something missy." "Eric, stop fuckin' about!" I take the cigarette and wave it in front of his face. "I'm serious, I'll fuckin' burn ya." "Wrong answer." He snatches it from me, takes a long drag and tosses it across the room. "Oi!" I roll my eyes at his stern appearance. "Please, Eric." "Can't hear ya, girl." "Give it to me!" Eric takes another mouthful and ignores my whining; there's no gettin' around it. "Pretty please Eric, give me some whiskey. I'd do anything and if you give it to me I'll be forever in your debt." The perverted smile's back and he slaps my hand away. "Right you are, Emmy. Now, open up." One of his hands sneaks up under my neck and the other tilts the bottle slightly. The scotch splashes onto my tongue and I close my eyes, swallow again and again while the hot fog I know all too well spreads out from my stomach into all my limbs. His hand's unsteady and some of it streams down my chin and neck down to my chest. Incompetent sod. The last few drops go down my throat and I relax again with a contented sigh. I wince when I realise that Eric's fucking with me's only gettin warmed up, and his fingertips suddenly mingle with the whiskey on my skin. I stifle a gasp; he plays with the clear liquid, drawing little images just the way he usually does with his own blood. Fuckin' hell, his fingers are burning... I will not tremble. I won't. I will not acknowledge what he's doing. Eric's warmth seems to be sucked up by my skin going right into my bloodstream, rushing down to my crotch. So warm... His lazy touch sends shivers down my spine but fuck it, I push it away. What I need to push away are his hands or I'm headin' into some major deep shit but the thought's erased from my head as soon as it turns up there. He's so completely focused on my skin he doesn't even meet my eyes. I swallow, force my breath to remain steady but my resolve's going out the window any moment now... Don't move, don't tremble and for god's sake, stay silent. This is war and I will fight for as long as there's still blood left in my veins. Surrender, whether it's by pushing him away or playing along, is not an option. Speaking of, even my own fuckin' body's betraying me by now. I can't even recall the last time I was this wet and thank hell I'm still wearing my pants. Eric takes his other hand out from under me and pulls the covers down to my stomach, as far down as he dares, his movements are steady and firm and he uses every inch of his fingers to elicit some kind of reaction from me. The fucker gets what he searches for, alright. My breath comes in hoarse gasps and hisses through my gritted teeth but I can't help myself; I'm weak and defenceless and Eric's not playing it fair at all. I lock my eyes on his; I don't want to see what he's doing to me, the way my chest heaves, my nipples go stiff. I don't want to see what he sees, that my veins are fuckin' throbbing, my heartbeat exposed for all to see. I will not tremble, no way, so I tense to the level where my knuckles go white. Eric's hot fingers slides downwards, he wets each of them with his tongue and start circling my nipples through my top, drawing another involuntary gasp from me. Fuckin' lazy cunt. He's doing this as if he's never done anything else and still, his eyes are narrow and his features drowsy. Eric's teasing one of 'em, barely brushing over it with his wet fingertips. I can't help the shaky sigh from escaping my lips anymore and just as I do, he looks back at me. His eyes are completely black; I can't spot a hint of hazel where his irises use to be. There's no telling which excites the sick cunt the most, the imagined war or the actual happenings. A smirk plays in the corners of his mouth. Eric isn't stupid. I curse myself for forgetting this, just as he's tricked me to a hundred times before. No, he's a sly fucker and just because of my imbecility he's now got another way to play me. I know I'm loosing it, he knows I know I'm loosing it. Eric's idle touches continue until his hands are resting still on my sides - I groan, take them in my own and try to push 'em further down but before I know it, he's holding my arms down, pinned at each side of me. He sits down on top of me, straddling my hips with a leg on each side to keep me locked tightly in position. "Lemme go!" I hiss. Although we both know I don’t really mean it.
Eric looks at me, from my face down to every inch of me that isn't in fact already covered by him. The forlorn puppy's gone without a trace. What I've got sitting on top of me is more a wolf than anything else and he licks his lips and bares his teeth. I buck my hips, squirm and dig my fingernails into his hands, trying in every way to slip loose. Eric doesn't even flinch. "Let go of me, yer fuckin' bastarrrd!" I growl, trying not to loose my face. The bed shakes from my violent attempts to get him off me, but I could just as well try to move a mountain. "Shut up," he yells back, and for a second I almost think he's gonna hit me. But then the same old Eric-the-pervert is smiling down at me, the smile that's usually followed by a bicycle chain or a stiletto knife. Without knowing what the fuck to believe I stare back at him. He leans closer and closer until his face is only centimetres away from my breast - his breath comes in hot puffs against my nipple before his cat-like tongue and soft lips presses against it, sucking and licking slowly. Pretending to not enjoy the way he treats me is suddenly much harder - as I said before we're both sadomasochists by nature and I can hiss and moan and curse and try to break free all I want but he will still show no intentions of letting me go. With wet licks and lazy kisses he turns to the other side of my breast, and fuck it, I tremble. What can I say to my defence? My muscles are weak and won't obey me but we both know it isn't the drugs anymore. To make up for that, I yell at him in between the moaning and gasping for air: "Fuckin' cunt! Eric, dya 'ear me? Let go, you bastard!" He frowns at me and bites down lightly on my nipple, drawing that other kind of cry from me that I seem to recall I promised myself I wouldn't let him hear. "Oh, fuckin'... fuck, Eric..." There's nothing worse than fuckin' losing. "Dammit," Eric hisses, jumps off the bed and licks his lips nervously. Then I hear it too; footsteps and shouting in the stairway: Fuckin’ good ol’ John and Fuckin’ ol’ good Nick, could these lads have picked a better timing? Eric looks from the door to me and back again. "Fuck you," I whisper and pull the covers up to under my nose. "I'm asleep." I roll over on my stomach and ignore him, so he goes out and opens the door, greets them and acts as if nuthin's happened. They joke and laugh and to hell with it, he's not gonna rub it into me like this. Covered with a blanket, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and walk out to the door. "Hey Emma…" John pushes his fingers through his brown curls and smiles at me. "You alright now?" "Yeh, I'm awright," I say with a tired smile. "So, whatsahappenin'?" "Not much. We've got thrown out from everyplace we go and it's only eight o clock!" "Well, you've both been stoned since five and you look like creeps. Whadya expect?" "Anyways," Nick shrugs, "we're stayin' here tonight." Eric glowers at him. Hah. "Since when?" "Since now. We got you all these goods..." he points down at the bags by their feet "...and thought we might as well invite ourselves in. We found some more people out huntin' for a good time: since the only gig worth watching's been cancelled we're hardly the only ones." "What?" Eric urges. "Where?" "They're heading over right now, and they're all bringing their friends."

Guilty conscience

me da risa este video
:__:

My name is...

wiuakajajkakjakja
xD

Mystery

100 cosas de mierda que deberias saber sobre mi antes de decir que me quieres

1.- Tuve el pelo morado estando en el colegio
2.- Me restrasé un día en nacer
3.- Soy fan a cagar de Doctor House
4.- Pienso que los Sex Pistols son la mejor banda ever
5.- Me gustaría ir a Australia, y no sé muy bien por qué.
6.- Me gustaba mucho el licor de menta que termine por odiarlo
7.- Tengo cortes en casi todo mi cuerpo
8.- Tengo dos lunares en la palma de la mano izquierda
9.- No tengo puerta en mi pieza.
10.- Soy hija única.
11.- vivo con mi viejo.
12.- Fui punk casi 5 años.
13.- Entrevisté a Alberto Fuguet por e-mail.
14.- tuve fantasias sexuales con mi profesor de Historia.
15.- Cuando chica me gustaban las Spice Girls.
16.- Tengo una gata que se llama "Tom".
17.- Estoy escuchando Celine Dion.
18.- Soy bilingue de los 11 años, creo.
19.- Me dan crisis de pánico una vez al mes.
20.- No me gusta Tim Burton
21.- Me gustaría ser travesti.
22.- Siempre me preguntan si estuve llorando. O estoy triste.
23.- Escribo cosas personales aquí porque no tengo Diario de vida.
24.- Tuve dos absesos en un periodo de dos meses.
25.- Fui vegetariana.
26.- tuve Hepatitis.
27.- Tiendo a no caminar mucho.
28.- Tengo desordenes hormonales.
29.- Como dijo Dolly Parton : "Me costo tan caro verme tan barata"
30.- he intentado matarme dos veces, pero que no cuentan por el grado y método de estupidez.
31.- Me gusta sentirme borracha
32.- Apago mi celular porque es molesto darse cuenta de que nadie me llama.
33.- Mis amigos me dicen NANCY, mi familia me dice CATA y me llamo NELLY
34.- Odio a Woody Allen
35.- Uso pestañas postizas
36.- Lloro dos veces por semana
37.- Creo que me gusta caleta el Javier (Nótese que me bloqueó y que nunca en mi vida lo he visto)
38.- Soy incapaz de mantener una relación estable
39.- Hoy no me bañé
40.- Me gustaría tener un hijo
41.- Me gustaría tener unas de esas máquinas que hay en el video de Aerosmith para hacer al mino perfecto.
42.- Cuando tenía 4 años me violó el primo de mi vieja
43.- No me gusta el reguetton, aunque quiero que me guste.
44.- Mi primera vez fue con un grunge que estaba volado y que nunca más me llamó después de esa noche

45.-Odio los 14 de Febrero

46.- Salí del colegió el año pasado, pero casi no paso.
47.- No me llevo bien con la vieja que me parió
48.- Quiero irme a Santiago.
47.- Me gusta el choclo
48.- Tengo voz de pendeja.
49.- A los 16 un punk viejo me violó lo cual hizo que me saliera del punk.
50.- Fui a ver a Miguel Bossé y me canté todas las canciones.
51.- No me gustan los Hippies
52.- Me cargan los indies
53.- Hago chistes que salen en "wayne's world" pero nadie los entiende.
54.- Tuve una relación de 10 meses con un argentino

55.- Me inyecté Heroína
56.- Admiro a Anna Nicole Smith, e incluso me puse triste cuando se murió.
57.- Soy re sarcástica.
58.- Mi referente literario solía ser Alberto Fuguet.
59.- Cuando siento ganas de vomitar, prefiero meterme los dedos en la garganta.
60.- Últimamente he estado muy tímida.
61.- Tengo caspa
62.- No me gusta Nirvana
63.- Hace tiempo que no jalo
64.- Tengo miedo de equivocarme en hacer la práctica de secretariado.
65.- Todavía no me cabe en la cabeza que el Javier me bloqueó por una talla.
66.- He tenido sueños mojados con Hugh Laurie
65.- También con Johnny Lydon pero jóven.
66.- Tengo el primer casette de My Chemical romance : "I brought you my bullets, you brought me your love"
67.-Me encantan los pall mall de menta
68.-Soy pin up rockabillienta
69.- Me gusta este número
70.- Uso mucho maquillaje
71.- Me dijeorn maricon operado
72.- Me encanta la actuación de Philip Seymour Hoffman como Rusty Zimmerman, en la película "flawless"
73.- No he tenido sexo desde que me violaron.
74.- Miento mucho sobre mi sexualidad
75.- Siempre me visto de negro y de rojo
76.- No he echo aseo en mi pieza en dos semanas
77.- Creo que tengo depresión
78.- Tomo mucho café
79.- Me gustaría que nadie me preguntara "¿Porqué escribes?"
80.- Es super linda la Tyra Banks
81.- Me gustaba blink 182
82.- Soy HUDDY
83.- Quiero hacerme varias cirugías cosméticas
84.- Me cargan los artissshhhtas
85.- quiero tener 18 para comprar copete legalmente, y entrar a los topless
86.- Quise ser lesbiana
87.- Me dan miedo los hombres
88.- No canto muy bien
89. Me pinto mucho los labios
90.- Nunca me gustó la música popular
91.- Tiendo a ser muy egocentrica
92.- Necesito un psicólogo
93.- Estoy que me corto por ir a fumar ahora
94.- Me fracturé el brazo izquiero cuando era chica
95.- Mi viejo no me creyó nada cuando le dije que me violaron
96.- Me hice un test de Elisa y salio positivo
97.- MENTIRA
98.- tengo un ojo más chico que otro
99.- Me quiero hacer un tatuaje de Hedwig and the angry inch
100.- Estoy segura que no leiste esta wea entera

Because you loved me

Anna R.I.P

Deseo

ലുസ്ട്ട്
അയെര്‍ മി മസ്ടുബുര്പേ പെന്സണ്ടോ എന്‍ ഹൌസ് =)

copy paste house

House lay on his bed, listening to his I-Pod on a late Tuesday night. House wore a pair of boxers, and a white t-shirt. He smiled a small smile and he looked at the woman lying next to him in bed sleeping. The woman in question was none other than Cuddy, his best friend, and lover of almost 10 years. She wore a tank top and a pair of his boxers and she was snoring softly. The blue eyed doctor smiled at he looked at her, thinking that she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

House turned back to his I-Pod and shuffled through a selection of songs, until he found the perfect one. It was called “It Did” and it described almost to a T, he and Cuddy’s relationship over the last 10 years. The song was sung by Brad Paisley, a country music singer and an amazing guitar player. Both of these reasons were why Cuddy and House liked country music and this artist. House let the song play and his mind drifted away.

A single red rose and a table for two
A nice Chardonney and an ocean view
Ships comin’ in and stars comin’ out
We sat and we talked till the place closed down
Then we took a long walk down on the beach
Her in that white dress and her bare feet
We stopped and we watched the lighthouse light
And pulled her close and I held on tight
And I said to myself
It doesn’t get better than this
No it doesn’t get better than this

And it did
It did
Whoa it did

Everyone thought that House and Cuddy had met at University and while this was true, they had fallen in love at the beach, at a local small café. This café was the first place where they had said “I love you” to each other. It was where House had taken Cuddy on their 4 year anniversary. Even though House had been sarcastic, and rude to everyone, and Cuddy was embarrassed to no end, they each still had a great time.

That night, they had taken a walk on the beach, watched the lighthouse light up, and watch the stars come out.

After they had graduated from University together, they took a road trip to the beach and had ended up here. By this time, they had been going out for almost 4 years and they were very much in love with each other. House and Cuddy still had their reputations. Cuddy was a stickler for the books and House was known for his sarcastic tongue, charm and lack of bedside manner. But for what House lacked in bedside manner, he made up in brilliance, especially in solving human puzzles. As for Cuddy, although she was book smart, she lacked a social life, but she loved him just the same, even though he was a sarcastic twerp.

Fast forward to that next spring
We were lookin’ for a preacher pickin’ out rings
Family comin’ in and friends comin’ out
To that little white church on the outskirts of town
Me in that tux fightin’ butterflies
Tears of joy in my mamma’s eyes
Her daddy walkin’ her down the aisle
He lifted that veil and I saw that smile
And I said to myself
It doesn’t get better than this
No, it doesn’t get better than this
But it did, it did, oh it did

That night after they had walked on the beach, watched the stars come out and the lighthouse light up, House had proposed to Cuddy. Of course, Cuddy had said yes and that next spring was when they were wed.

The day of House and Cuddy’s wedding was wonderful. They had their wedding at a small church in the town that held the small, quaint café. Wilson was House’s best man and one of Cuddy’s sister’s was Cuddy’s maid of honor.

Cuddy was nervous and excited; House on the other hand was impatient, as usual. He just wanted to say “I do” and kiss her, screw everything else! He stood impatiently, as she walked down the isle. Not soon enough for House, words were said, rings were exchanged and he knew he was the luckiest man on earth as he kissed her.

Just when I start thinkin’ it’s as good as it can get
This crazy life does somethin’ just to let me know
I haven’t seen anything yet

House never thought he’d get married, especially after what Stacey had done to him. But that changed when Cuddy came into his life. He now had someone who could spar with him, word for word, who challenged him at every turn, be it at work or at home. House liked challenges and to him, Cuddy was a constant challenge. He liked seeing how far he could go to make her mad, and her reaction to his unethical and radical treatments of patients. Cuddy knew that House did it all to piss her off and while that irritated the hell out of her, she knew that it was what made him House. Cuddy knew that life was going to be a huge challenge when she got into a relationship with House, much less married to him. But she also knew that whatever life threw their way, they’d get through it together, mist the yelling and fighting, life was pretty good.

But it was about to get a whole lot sweeter.

Nine months later nearly to the day
There we were flyin’ down the interstate
Car weavin’ in, car weavin’ out
Through traffic running every red light in town
Delivery room and the doctor comes in
I’m right beside her, she’s squeezing my hand
One more push and a baby cries
Sweet little angel with his mamma’s eyes
And I said to myself
It doesn’t get better than this
No, it doesn’t get better than this
But it did, it did, oh it did
Yes it did

House was never one for kids, even though Cuddy wanted them badly. House was stubborn in this regard. Cuddy on the other hand knew she wasn’t getting any younger, so she begged and pleaded with House to help her. He finally gave in and in hindsight it was best decision he ever made.

Even though House wasn’t going to admit this to anyone, having a baby with Cuddy was the most beautiful and wonderful feeling. The day their baby was due to arrive; House had rushed Cuddy into PPTH. Hours later, amidst the yelling and screaming, their baby boy was finally born. His name was Brandon James House. He had House’s blue eyes and Cuddy’s dark brown hair. Their son was brought home from the hospital a few days later.

Having a son changed House. He didn’t really know how to be a dad; he knew only how not to be a dad. Like his dad was to him. This scared him and Cuddy knew this. House and Cuddy worked together to raise their son. Cuddy taught her son how to be successful and hardworking, while House taught him how to be sarcastic and think that “everybody lies”.

The song ended and House was brought back to the present by the sound of his I-Pod, changing songs. House smiled at the memories that the song brought to him. He knew that he was lucky to have both his son and wife in his life, even though he wasn’t perfect and no one expected him to be, he was happy that his life turned out the way it did.


http://www.fanfiction.net

volaita

ayer soñé ke mi viejo se moría

luni luni luni

Amazing

I was mixed up when you came to me
Too broke to fix
Said 'daddy get you gone, I'm missing my baby'
Still missing my baby

I was stitched up by the hands of fate
Said how you gonna make it on your own
If luck is a lady ?
Maybe luck is a lady

I was going down for the third time
My heart was broken, I was not open to your suggestions
I had so many questions
That you just kissed away

Tell me, I guess that cupid was in disguise
The day you walked in and changed my life
I think it's amazing,
The way that love can set you free

So now I walk in the midday sun
I never thought that my saviour would come
I think it's amazing
I think it's amazing

I think you're amazing

You tried to save me from myself
Said 'Darling, kiss as many as you want!
My love's still available
And I know you're insatiable'

We're like victims of the same disease
Look at your Big Bad Daddy, and your mom
And your mom...was always acting crazy

I was going down for the third time
My heart was broken, I though that loving you was out of the question
Then I saw my reflection
Saying please don't let this go

Tell me, I guess that cupid was in disguise
The day you walked in and changed my life
I think it's amazing,
The way love can set you free

So now I walk in the midday sun
I never thought that my saviour would come
I think it's amazing
I think you're amazing

Celebrate the love of the one you're with

Celebrate, this life with you baby
I think you should celebrate yeah
Don't put your love in chains baby
No no, walk in the midday sun
I though I was dreaming
I think it's amazing
I think you're amazing

I said celebrate the love of the one you're with

As this life gets colder
And the devil inside
Tells you to give up

Dos en la ciudad

Todo está hecho de insoportables cafés donde no hay otra cosa más que esa condenada música coagulante.Eso y las risas que se cayeron de algún bolsillo descosido.
Los deseos del Gtalk se perdieron junto a un fósforo no usado, alegoría de la segunda oportunidad.
A unos centimetros de aliento hay una línea débil y muy fácil de cruzar, si no fuera por tus ojos y los pallmall, se me haría fácil no sangrar dolores viejos. Por ahora me resigno extasiada ante otras maravillas y me olvido de la pérdida.
Todo lo que ha quedado en el camino pertenece a las ausencias. Lo que arde en mi mirada no son lágrimas, es niebla, lo que dejo que se escape es esta terca humanidad que me perturba.
Hoy quise el poder de dejar atrás las apatias del silencio, y lo maraco de la timidez. para abdicar los sueños de un beso ficticio.
Yo sé mucho más de odios que de amores. Como también sé que tu sabes más de alienación que de humanidad. la soledad se siente blanda en los bolsillos ¿No crees?.
En el café hay espinas, hay carbones encendidos, una frontera de apariencias. Tengo miedo de cruzarla sin pasaporte. Yo leo tu mano y veo un libro abierto: en el margen hay dos lineas .Una de ella dice: "No era necesario ser tan cruel"La otra dice simplemente: "Complete la línea de puntos".
Le pido a algún ser inanimado, que me acompañe la experiencia, que el error no me atormente.Un ejército de paciencias dispuestas a dar batalla. Necesito encontrar alguna de las risas que perdí esta mañana cuando desperté y vi que afuera la canción no era la misma y el mundo estaba hecho de insoportables cafés.

jaus

ke kosa tiene ke me tiene tan kaga del hoyo?

♥♥♥♥♥

Pa' puras verguenzas - Paquita la del barrio

Por fin decidiste marcharte y dejarme

Estabas tardando

Si algo bueno haz echo en tu triste vida

fue esa decisión

Prefiero estar sola

y no avergonzarme estando contigo

Todas tus bajezas, tus malas acciones

mataron mi amor

Si crees que al marcharte
yo he de ir a rogarte
estas equivocado
Para que lo sepas
Si un día fuí feliz
es HOY que te vas

Por que hoy me doy cuenta

que vales tan sólo

pa' puras verguenzas

aquí sólo estorbas

por eso hoy te digo

Que bien que te vas

abrazame muy juerte

Cuando tu estas conmigo, es cuando yo digo que valió la pena todo,todo lo que yo he sufrido. no se si es un sueño aún o es una realidad pero cuando estoy contigo es cuando digo: que este amor que siento es porque tu lo has merecido, con decirte amor que otra vez he amanecido llorando de felicidad; a tu lado yo siento que estoy viviendo nada es como ayer. Abrázame que el tiemo pasa y el nunca perdona, ha hecho estragos en mi gente como en mi persona. abrázame que el tiempo es malo y muy cruel amigo, abrázame que el tiempo es oro si tu estas conmigo, Abrázame fuerte, muy fuerte, más fuerte que nunca, siempre abrázame. Hoy que tu estas conmigo, yo no se si esta pasando el tiempo o tu lo has detenido así quiero estar por siempre, aprovecho que estas tu conmigo te doy gracias por cada momento de mi vivir Tu cuando mires para el cielo, por cada estrella que aparezca amor es un "te quiero". Abrázame que el tiempo hiere y el cielo es testigo que el tiempo es cruel y a nadie quiere por eso te digo: Abrázame muy fuerte amor, mantenme así a tu lado yo quiero agradecerte amor todo lo que me has dado, quiero corresponderte de una forma u otra a diario; amor yo nunca del dolor he sido partidario, pero a mi me toco sufrir cuando confié y creí en alguien que juró que daba su vida por mi. Abrázame que el tiempo pasa y ese no se detiene, abrázame muy fuerte amor que el tiempo en contra viene, abrázame que dios perdona pero el tiempo a ninguno, abrázame que no le importa saber quien es uno, abrázame que el tiempo pasa y el nunca perdona ha hecho estragos en mi gente como en mi persona, abrázame que el tiempo es malo y muy cruel amigo abrázame muy fuerte amor.

Ya lo sabias (no es mio)

ya no te siento komo antes ya las kosas no van komo iban ya tengo mas ke klaro ke no te mando ya sabia ke yo no era para ti
te he dicho mil veces ke soy un kapricho no hables mas xke asi reafirmas lo ke digo si no kieres mas problemas alejate de mia unke no kiero perderte eskucha lo ke digo

mientras tanto me kedo aki: kon mis pajas kon mi gata kon mis pitos kon mi bajo kon mi puto korazon vete te estan llamando
todas esas veces te dije ke pararamos,y tu siempre me decias ke no te mando,kizas no se amar x eso prefiero ser solo,y ademas tu solo buskas placer para satisfacerte..,
la verdad eske no me desilucionaste,solo ke espereba ke este momento llegara,yo ya se komo eres y x eso mismo te amaba,hay muchos weones en este planeta dime, ke esperabas?

mientras tanto me kedo aki: kon mis pajas kon mi gata kon mis pitos kon mi bajo kon mi puto korazon vete te estan llamando
te odio xke aunke no lo kreas me das felicidad y lo ke me da mas rabia eske esa wea sea pasajera no fui nunka lo ke siempre kisiste y eso me apena pero lo siento, no voy a kambiar y tu menos no hay problema

si sabes ke esto no va a funcionar, xke sigues konmigo? si kieres ke sea feliz vete y no kambies nunka akaso sera ke te asusta mucho la verdad si nos topamos alguna vez x saludemonos komo amigos?

.Txt

ME DI CUENTA DE MUCHAS COSAS, XXXXX Q JAMAS Q HUBIERA DADO CUENTA ANTES:ME MUERO DE GANAS DE TENERTEME MUERO DE GANAS DE ABRAZARTE ME MUERO DE GANAS DE QUE ME HABLES ME MUERO DE GANAS DE MIRARTE A LOS OJOS ME MUERO DE GANAS DE SENTIRTE Y DE LO Q MAS ME MUERO DE GANAS ES DE BESARTE.
NO SOY MUY BUENO EXPRESANDO MIS SENTIMIENTOSPOR ESO SOY MEDIO TIMIDO Y CALLADO ME CUESTA DECIR LAS COSAS POR MIEDO A SER LASTIMADO NO QUIERO SUFRIR NADIE QUIERE SUFRIR (YO MENOS).
XXXXX ME DI CUENTA DE QUE SOS IMPORTANTE PARA MI AUNQUE NO LO DEMUESTRE,AUNQUE NO LO DIGA MI CORAZON Y MIS SENTIMIENTOS SON FUERTE POR VOS.
AUNQUE NO QUIERA DECIRLO,AUNQUE ME CUESTE DECIRLO YO SIENTO ESO POR VOS.
NO PIENSES QUE NO SIENTO COSAS POR VOS ME PASAN COSAS CON VOS (NO TE MIENTO)PASA QUE HABECES ME CUESTA EXPRESARME SI TE TUVIERA AQUI A MI LADO TODO SERIA MAS FACIL EXPRESAME Y DECIRTE TODO LO QUE ME PASA CON VOS.
YO SIENTO LO MISMO Q VOS SENTIS POR MI PERO HABECES NO QUIERO ARRIESGAR TODO POR MSN PORQUE ME GUSTA HABLAR CON VOS LA PASAMOS BIEN NO?.
DESDE LA PRIMERA VEZ QUE HABLAMOS ME CAISTE BIEN Y ME SEGIS SIENDO BUENA ONDA Y SIEMPRE VA A SER ASI.
XXXXX TE QUIERO MUCHO AUNQUE NO LO DIGA O ME CUESTE EXPRESARME (YO SIENTO ESO POR VOS)MI CORAZON LO SIENTE!!!
TE QUIERO MUCHO NUNCA ME OLVIDES XXXXX!!!!


(BUENO YO NO SOY ESCRITOR COMO VOS PERO HICE LO Q PUDE...IWUAL CREO Q NO ESTUBE TAN MAL).
NO?

XXXXXXXXX XXXXXXX 04/01/O8. ¡¡¡TE KIERO NUNKA OLVIDES ESO!!!
LO ESCRIBI CON AMOR XXXXX - TE KIERO MUCHO - TE AMO - YO XXXXXXXXX DE BS.AS.
AUNKE NO LO DIGA,AUNKE NO KIERA RECONOCERLO,AUNKE NO ME CREAS,AUNKE DUDES DE MI,YO VOY A SEGIR PENSANDO LO MISMO DE VOS XXXXX...
(ALGUN DIA NOS VEREMOS Y SABRAS TODO LO QUE ME PASA CON VOS).
XXXXX... TE QUIERO MUCHO,YO XXXX... CHAU!
(ESPERO QUE TE GUSTE) BESOS!!!

Si tu te vas - Platero y tú

Nena, hasta aquí hemos llegado
Puedes hacer las maletas
Y coge las cosas que te regalé.
Yo ya no sigo tu juego
Un caramelo, un castigo
Coge tus cosas y vete de aquí.
Quise seguir tu camino
Pero no era tan liso
Y he tropezado con otra mujer.
Ella está gorda y es fea,
Es sordomuda y cojea,
Pero en la cama se lo hace muy bien.
Quise seguir tu camino...
Si tú te vas,
Nena no imaginas
Lo bien que lo voy a pasar.
Si tú te vas...
Si te vas, si te vas,
Si te vas, si te vas y me dejas
Ella y yo bailaremos
Rocking all over the World.
Si te vas, si te vas...

adict kuliao

Un amanecer huérfano con manos indigentes que se agotan de acariciar.El espejo me susurra cómo soy, desnuda soy así.

O es que el amor me hace bella y vulnerable como él —cuando bebe—, y yo sigo despierta tomando apuntes, gerundios desechables que naufragan en almohadas transpiradas.

La sal quedara en su celular y en mis sábanas. Podría quitarme los ojos de las cuencas y no verlo nunca más, podría escarbar su cráneo e inyectarle una imagen mía que recuerde, que pueda mantener aún cuando me olvide.

Look at me

rekuerdos de infancia...
ahhh xD

"¿Por qué escribes, según tu punto de vista de poeta?"

Escribo por se me me da la gana, porque me siento libre en en las cuatro paredes que delatan mi calidad de imputado, escribo por la misma razon que los maridos son infieles, y las esposan se hacen hueonas.

Escribo por que tu me estas leyendo. Y por que él me está ignorando. Escribo porque no tengo nada más que hacer.Escribo porque me gusta Bill Hicks. Escribo por que tengo tendencia a la poligamia. Escribo por que fui abusada y nunca denuncié. Escribo por qué quise ser zurda. Escribo por que me gusta el café, y hace meses que no fumo marihuana.

Escribo por que me gusta dejar 3 cms y medio de sangría para que por ahí corra el sudor de estas lineas. Escribo por que me las doy de juglar. Porque me carga la gramática, las metáforas y la mierda corrosiva envasada en la tele: “llegar y llevar”. Escribo por que es mucho mejor y menos denigrante que hacer una paja. Escribo por que, como, duermo, cago, sudo, meo, odio, amo, detesto, pienso, mastico, trago, bebo, fumo, rio, lloro, hablo, deseo, juego, huelo, elijo, enfermo, inquieto, insulto, vivo, me aburro y muero.

NO SOY POETA Y QUE TANTA WEA

elephant man

ya la vi...inkreible =/

I kinda always knew I'd end up your ex-girlfriend

(start beat)

Te llamé po.
haciendo caso omiso a esa cosa que llaman "dignidad" .
eran las 4 am un sábado por la noche.
estabas borracho (jajaja que novedad).
Te dijé cosas que de verdad sentía
("te echo de menos conchetumare" "juntemonos mañana" "llámame")
Todo bien.
Me dijiste que era la mina de tu vida,
que también me habias echado de menos.
y todo eso.

(beat)

- Es domingo y no me llamaste gil culiao
- No...si a lo mejor no tiene moneas
- El conchesumadre ese no tiene moneas para nada.

(double beat)

Es lunes.
Mi tía me dijo que te había visto el domingo en la mañana
borracho y heart broken
"la loca no me quiere... nunca me quisó"

(tuuuuu- tuuuuuu- tuuuu- tuuu)

- ¿Alo? Buenas tardes ¿Se encontrará XXXXXXX?
- ¡XXXXXXX!!!!!!!
(short beat)

- ¿Qué?
- ¿Qué onda que andabay borracho el domingo en la mañana, diciendo que yo no te quería?
- ¿Que hueá?
- Eso po. Mi tía me dijo que te vio.
- Aonde tu tía es mentirosa
- ¿Y dónde estabay a esa hora?
- Venía saliendo de la casa de una mina
- ¿No te acorday que te llame el domingo a las 4am?
- Aonde...tay ma loca, nunca me hay llamado
- ¿No te acorday?
- ¿Como me voy a acordar de algo que nunca fue?
- (...)
- ¿Algo más?
- Ay que plancha. Te dejo. chau.
- Ok. chao.

(end beat)

I'm another ex-girlfriend on your list♪
↓
but I should have thought of that before we kiss ♪

Sorry seems to be the hardest word

I cant help falling in love with you

Girl interrupted

- Te daré todos los dulces que quieras

- ¿ En serio, tío?

- pues claro mijita. Sólo tienes que hacer algo por tu tio paco que te quiere tanto.

- ¿Que cosa, tío?

- Lo que pasa es que tengo un peluche bajo los pantalones. Cómo el pobre me desobedecío, se fue de la casa y se llenó de piojillos. Lo único que tienes que hacer es rascarle la cabezita roja.

- ¿Y me darás todos los dulces que quiera?

- Todos. Mira... dame la mano. Así

- ¿Así tio?

- Ahhh, Ahhh.

- Pero tío, el peluchito parece muerto.

- Sigue mijita, sigue.

- ¿Pero porqué pones esa cara tío?

- Ahhhh, ahhhhhhh, mijita tienes las manos igual a las de tu madre, ahhh ahhhh

- y tú eyaculación precoz igual que papi. Ahora dame 500 lucas o voy con la manito sucia de leche, para que le examinen el ADN

You and me

Adivina quien

wise men say, only fools rush in, but I can't
help...falling in love with you. ♪
Elvis Presley

Hay tres habitaciones A,B,C
En la habitacion A, hay una pareja
En la habitación B, hay otra pareja
En la habitación C no hay pareja

¿A que persona le corresponde la habitación C?

Sure looks pretty

Never had no luck never had no dreams at all

Never had a reason

To feel the way I do

When a soul train man

Sings do do do do to me

My heart is aching, baby

And I know where I should be

you sure look pretty to me

Never had no love

For a thousand years or more

Sometimes its easy

Sometimes it really gets me down

When a mowtown girl

Cries a melodyI'll know for sure, oh baby

Somewhere someone waits for me

you sure look pretty to me

The adicts - sure look pretty

the argument didnt work with me, you cunt

See...this is what I hate about this all child worshipping center you know?

"look after the children!" "how many children died" "THE CHILDREN!!!"

hey what this all mean? that at certain age they are off from your fuckin love list? FUCK your children if thats the way u feel, fuck you with them!, you either love people from all ages, or u just shut the fuck up.

"who's saying all these nasty things about our kids?"

Is me . its true, shut the fuck up
so you think u're going to make a better world by bringing more stupid little fucks to the planet? why dont u just try to love the people that are already fucking here, ok? instead of waiting for a future that would never fuckin come.
IT DOESNT EXIST!
IT AINT COMING
THERES NO FUTURE,
THERES NO SUCH THING

El oráculo II

La pregunta era:

"viste que pase de curso?"
La bola de cristal responde:

"No cuentes con ello"

La pregunta era:

"como que no?"
La bola de cristal responde:

"¡Ojalá!"

La pregunta era:

"me estai weiando?"
La bola de cristal responde:

"Busca la respuesta en tu interior"

La pregunta era:

"yo creo que si . o no?"
La bola de cristal responde:

"Probablemente"

aarrrg

El oraculo

La pregunta era:

"voy a pasar de curso?"
La bola de cristal responde:

"Deberías luchar por ello"
La pregunta era:

"si se si se. pero voy a pasar si o no?"
La bola de cristal responde:

"Cuando dejes de hacer esa pregunta una y otra vez, encontrarás la respuesta"
La pregunta era:

"bueno. el fala kuliao me va a subir la nota?"
La bola de cristal responde:

"Puede ser"
La pregunta era:

"y la guatona kulia de matematikas?"
La bola de cristal responde:

"Ahora no es el momento"
La pregunta era:

"o sea me voy a quedar en 4to medio?"
La bola de cristal responde:

"Pues claro que sí"
La pregunta era:

"puta la wea. pero voy a salir ESTE año de 4to ?"
La bola de cristal responde:

"No te entiendo. Vuelve a formular la pregunta"
La pregunta era:

"me voy a licenciar el 2007?"
La bola de cristal responde:

"Olvídate"
La pregunta era:

"ctm! nadie me va a ayudar?"
La bola de cristal responde:

"Los astros parecen favorables"
La pregunta era:

"o sea... voy a usar la estola de graduacion ESTE año?"
La bola de cristal responde:

"La paciencia es la madre de la ciencia"
La pregunta era:

"puta oh!. ehhh voy a estudiar 4to el otro año?"
La bola de cristal responde:

"No te entiendo. Vuelve a formular la pregunta"
La pregunta era:

"voy a salir de 4to?"
La bola de cristal responde:

"La bola está nublada"

....PUTA LA WEA

Volav Volas Volas

* Si piensas que las drogas no han echo buenas cosas por nosotrxs; anda a tu casa busca todos tus cds, casettes, peliculas, etc. y quemalos!

* te mienten acerca de las drogas. dicen que cuando estai volao se te kita toda la motivación. MENTIRA!. cuando estas bajo el efecto de algún estupefaciente puedes hacer lo que quieras, con la diferencia que te das cuenta que no vale el puto esfuerzo.

*Yo fumo. y si esto le molesta a alguien, sugiero que echen un vistazo al mundo en el que vivimos, y... se calle el puto hocico.

*La peor cosa que hacen los no fumadores es que cuando estás fumando, se te acercan y tosen. cof-cof. eso es bastante cruel o no? ellos tienen buenos pulmones y uno no. acaso van donde los lisiados y se ponen a bailar? ellos tosen teniendo buenos pulmones. mierda. menos mal que no fuman.

*ESTE es mi pensamiento final. Sobre las drogas, sobre el alcohol, pornografía o lo que séa. ¿Que chucha les importa a ustedes lo que yo haga, lea, compre, mire o me meta en el cuerpo mientras no cause daño a otro ser humano en este planeta? Y para los que tengan algún pequeño problema moral en sus cabezas, sobre cómo responder esa pregunta, la responderé por ustedes: VAYANSE A LA MIERDA =)
Lleven eso al banco, métanlo en su cuenta y tómense unas putas vacaciones afuera de mi vida.

*Lxs niños son mucho más inteligentes que cualquiera de nosotrxs. Yo no conozco ni a un niño que trabaje ocho horas y tenga niñxs.

* “Estamos perdiendo la guerra con las drogas” ¿Entienden lo que eso implica? Se esta combatiendo una guerra y la gente con drogas la está ganando. ¿Ke es lo que eso les dice sobre las drogas? Que debe haber gente muy viva y creativa de ese lado: están ganando una guerra, ¡y están recontra-volaos!

*Es verdad que casi siempre estoy hablando de weas que pasaron hace mucho. hicks, Rotten, Hitler. Mucha gente me ha dicho "que no puedes olvidarlo? pasó hace mucho.". Bueno está bien. pero que no venga algun saco e huea a hablarme de Jesus.

*

Lobo Estepario

Yo voy, lobo estepario, trotando
por el mundo de nieve cubierto;
del abedul sale un cuervo volando,
y no cruzan liebres ni corzas por este desierto.
Y no cruzan liebres.

Me enamora una corza ligera,
en el mundo no hay nada tan lindo y hermoso;
con mis dientes y zarpas de fiera
destrozara su cuerpo sabroso.
Destrozara su cuerpo.

Y volviera mi afán a mi amada,
y volviera mordiendo su carne blanquísima.
Saciando mi sed en su sangre por mi derramada,
para aullar luego solo en la noche tristísimo.
Para aullar luego solo.

Una liebre bastara a mi anhelo;
dulce sabe su carne en la noche callada.
¡Ay! ¿Por qué me abandona en letal desconsuelo
de la vida, la parte más noble y más pura?
De la vida, la parte más noble.

Vetas grises adquiere mi rabo peludo;
voy perdiendo la vista y me atacan las fiebres;
hace tiempo que estoy sin hogar y viudo,
que troto y que sueño con corzas y liebres
que mi triste destino me espanta

Oigo al aire soplar en la noche de invierno,
hundo en nieve mi ardiente garganta,
y así voy llevando mi mísera alma al infierno.

Porque leer?

- PORQUE...EHHHH SI

vivo per lui

Gas metáno de la alcantarilla, brota tristeza en puertas blindadas adicto oscuro donde arropar un blues que deletrea estribillo:

no pertenezco, no pertenezco, amor,

A esta soledad sin cierres que abrir, no alcanza creer que ya ha pasado la sorpresa, no sirve saber que eres muelle, que nunca zarparás, mole de piedra sin mirillas por donde ver, la verdad no se puede tolerar, la verdad ensucia, confunde el oído. Al ángel que trae su veneno en la quinta noche de la sed, aturdido espacio inhabitado de tss y de ja-ja .

Si te amara, ay si yo te amara... al menos habría una veta heroica en esta sensación de caída, matarife en mis entrañas, algo así como un delito inabordable.
No me quieren ni mis manos. Telepático abrazo, ni imaginar la complexión, la curva de un peso que no puede sostenerme. Creo que ya olvidé mi último espejismo.

Kissing you ♪

She loves you... she just can't be around you

No soy amargada

Es raro.

Él me dijo que me quería pero cuando se fue, se llevó el computador, la tele y la cama. Es algo extraña que cuando me decía que el era un amigo para mi, que nunca me iba a dejar sola, que me quería; lo estaba diciendo frente a cualquiera de estos artículos. Como un imbécil.

“Te amo, disco duro con dos gigabytes de RAM” “te adoro, 29 pulgadas pantalla plana”.

No te puedes amargar porque alguien te dice que te quiere, y luego o te deja o te echa de la casa. Tienes que pensar que hay una razón para cada cosa. Tienes que admitirlo, devorarlo para poder vivir con eso. Hay que mirar el lado bueno, seguir adelante.

Está bien que me vaya de la casa porque la convivencia se hizo un infierno. En serio. Está más que bien. Desde que me ha echado mierda, mi carrera ha progresado. Estoy creciendo con la fantasía de que algún día no muy lejano, va a vivir en una casa completamente básica, con 30 perros, y uno de ellos se llamará “cholo”.

El se volverá calvo, con pelo en toda la espalda, pesará 300 kilos, se volverá borracho, le pegará a los hijos que de seguro tendrá por condoro, va a ver los Dukes Of Hazard, todos los domingos en el mega, y se va a reír, aunque necesite a alguien que le tenga que explicar lo que sucedió en la serie, cuando no haya nada más que ver o hacer.

No va a tener a nadie con quién hablar, Se dejará de bañar, tendrá barro en su cara, y pájaros en la pieza con olor a naftalina.

Una noche, al acostarse en su catre de madera, allá lejos en una isla de régimen comunista, solo, con un vaso de agua posado hace días en el velador. Le va a entrar una tos, por comer tanto ajo con tomate, y se va estar asfixiando, y cuando se caiga en la cama sobre el control remoto, y se encienda la tele en la entrega del Nóbel de literatura,

Me va a ver subir al podio mandandole saludos

Y...volviste conchetumare

Cuando le pasa a otra gente yo misma dije
"Pobrecita" "mala onda"
Pero cuando lo viví en carne propia...
Fue algo más...
Lo fue todo

Tomaste mi cuerpo

y lo partiste en dos

Te llevaste mi futuro

mi niñez, y mi risa

Te jalaste todo lo que tenía

para mi misma

Y ahora volviste, conchetumare

No voy a ser tu

"POBRECITA"

Entrevista a Diosito

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me hace acordar a Bill Hicks y Sid vicious.

It's just a ride

The best of you

Algo que vi en el you tube
Las imágenes son de la 2da temporada de
Dr House MD
La canción es de Foo fighters
se llama the best of you

Will you marry me?

no se ke tendra esa frase ke me kago de miedo.
hoy la eskuche.
mi vientre decia ke si...


yo en kambio
komo siempre
no sabia ke decir

...


quieres casarte conmigo?

los muertos de cristo y wea

nos vemos allá
sin amariconarse

sexo, mentiras y mpeg

Chances I

me quedaban dos oportunidades.

una vino fallada.

la otra me la guardo en el bolsillo.

Estoy chata de que seay tan saco e wea I

Aquí está el punto de reflexión en el cual me doy cuenta que no estoy en mis cabales. Cuando te digo que una punkemon es diferente a un gitano es por algo. aunque estis muerto de curao.

Chances II



pero sí que fui feliz. fue un ratito, yo me acuerdo. no es posible que haya sido un sueño, mi cabeza se masturba con fantásticas promesas, pero nunca se equivoca de recuerdos.

Estoy chata de que seay tan saco e wea II

después me fui a buscar otro cuerpo que abrigar y terminé haciéndole guiños a un semáforo fuera de servicio, parando taxis de luces apagadas. en uno de ellos estaba mi amigo matándome a caricias. Djelem djelem ♪

Dolor de cabeza I

ya lo sé, ya sé que es tarde. los obsequios me los compro en el infierno, el diagnóstico es muy claro: lo derecho va en la izquierda. no entendiste que ser triste es contrario a la belleza

Sospecha I

hay algo roto entre nosotros.