Tuesday, June 29, 2010


I wonder when things became so confusing. I know there is always a point where, though u do remember what happened, just cannot recall how it did. U don't recognize yourself in that person that decided whatever u decided, and u can't even thing of what in hell brought u to take that decision. Why did u fall in love with that guy, why didn’t u leave when it was so obvious it was about time, why did u come here and didn't go there, why, why, why. Wondering and puzzled, not really regretful.

Every time i feel that way, i feel like vomiting.
My whole life is like vomiting. Vomiting what i think, what i feel or what i need. Cannot communicate properly, just vomit. I feel like vomiting, soothing and relaxing, just like i feel like disappearing, hiding my head under my wing, i wish i had wings, flying away, high, very high, burning my wings and falling.
And i almost can’t remember why i shouldn’t. But for the headache.

It’s like a boyfriend you quitted long ago. U don’t really remember why u stopped anymore, or just vaguely, so u start wondering what if i tried again. Then there is that very sour taste in your lips and suddenly u remember everything. But u know you’re bound to forget again, and to keep wondering why shouldn’t i for the rest of your life.

Friday, June 25, 2010

Bubble shooting

Not fair. I ate no fucking apple, why in hell am i punished, then?? I want to go back home and sleep, or not... just don’t wanna be here!!!

Truth is i am to blame... Thursday had a long, long night that in fact doesn’t seem to be quite finished. I slept like one hour, so if i don’t sound coherent or just sober, it’s just because i am not. So hard to try to hit the right key... or to think...

So here i am, now, bubble shooting not to fall asleep. What a good girl am i, huh?

Pity i had to work today, otherwise we would have gone to the beach for a day or two, rain is always better at the sea side! Anyway, these last couple of days have been absolutely great, like being a teen again. Last time i thought about getting a car and driving to the coast straight away at five in the morning i was probably about nineteen or twenty. Bathing with the first sun rays, oranges and reddish spreading all over the mirror-like surface of the sea; just delightful.

Last time i actually did it was with a guy i dated for a short while after my first boyfriend. I remember his name only because of an ad, and know that he was older than me... around seven or nine years, probably... He was better looking dressed than naked. Quite handsome, but short; long, blond hair, deep blue eyes that got me charmed for at least two weeks ;) chemicals play dirty, but most of the times don’t last long. I didn’t want anything serious, and he was not serious at all. He had been with almost half of the office (female part) so it seemed like a good option. I didn’t like him in bed (ugh!!) He said he had fallen in love with me. I think his chemicals where just a bit longer-lasting than mines. I quitted the job shortly after that, and never saw him again. He was quite funny, a bit too funny sometimes, basically a good guy. Nothing interesting or remarkable, in fact, apart that week-end on the beach...

Pity i didn’t repeat. I will add that to my things-to-do list...

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Pieces of shit

Why in hell do i want him so much, i wonder...

He’s not... dunno, nothing. Not handsome, not hot, not even tall... But gosh he is fucking attractive to me... He wins me over just by winking. Can’t help it...

Here is one of my (many) problems: i melt when a guy looks at me in a certain way. I already said that i don’t know how to say NO when it comes to it. As i said that i’m not consistent with my own decisions. I guess that’s all related to that little melting problem.

When i was younger and far less sensible, i thought it was about time to have a boyfriend or something. So i met a guy at high school and there u go, two years later i thought that it was about time to fly by myself.

He was nice, sweet and good looking (though not my type of good looking; too fair and childish). And now that i think of it, he may have not been that sweet... But i don’t remember many things about anything anymore, so i just couldn’t say...
He was five years older than me and looked like my younger brother. We lived together for a while. His habits were a bit too much for what i was used to. He tried to stop smoking because of the money, but he transformed into a mean bastard and we were living in a twenty meters studio, so the situation became quite unbearable and we decided that he’d better keep on smoking (please). This being not his only habit, i got used to many things like having a piece of shit the size of a tray, sniffing coke by the sea or hanging around with people that (ab)used drugs and alcohol every few days. I got tired of all this. Never really understood much of their behaviour, but, even if i didn’t join them most of the times, just seemed to be the way... don’t know...

One day everything seemed very clear. It was over.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Goldfishes and more

I know i am like a goldfish. Fishes, by the way, don’t have a 5 seconds memory, but a 5 months one. So go around saying it doesn’t matter, they won’t remember that i stuck a prickle in its throat, you see, haha, doesn’t matter anyway...

It does matter. In fact we, goldfishes, remember very clearly every little detail, every little prickle, till five months later. Then we erase it from our memories, so that they are clean and ready-to-use again.

I barely have memories from my childhood or my teens.

That’s why i have decided to make a draft about my lovers, so that i won’t forget any of them in the coming years.

I will start at the very beginning. Don’t worry, i started late... She was older than i was by then. She was even older than i am now. There’s not much to say. She had a kind of girlfriend, defined herself as bisexual and told me not to fall in love with her, which i didn’t. Afterwards, she’d send me a letter saying that coward love doesn’t get to be anything, that u have to take risks in your life, that... As for me, i didn’t have anything close to a boy- or girlfriend, i didn’t define myself (still don’t do it) and was just experimenting. When she told me not to fall in love with her i said great, don’t you fall in love with me and everything will be ok. She said she wouldn’t. I was just experimenting and she was older and wiser, but for a long time i felt really guilty for not falling in love, for the fact that she did, for not really wanting more. I didn’t even get my towel back. I own my aunt a towel ever since, that i haven’t forgotten. I didn’t even answer that painful letter. I never do.

She was nice, sweet and smooth. I didn’t like her kisses, but the massages were great.

Monday, June 21, 2010

Feeling home

My neck aches, wonder why...

Lying against a naked body is like being home. Passing your fingers through the hair in the chest, breathing so close to the skin that you can feel the down moving next to your lips, barely touching one side, up and down, awaiting the shiver, shivering yourself with the contact of his fingers on your middle back, and lower... Experienced feelings that every time feel so comfortably new...

Lately i have been discovering things about people i already knew.

For example, there is this guy at my workplace. He can talk. No, no, i mean it. I’ve been working here for more than half a year, now (far too long!!!) and i’m even familiar with some of them. With him, i had never been able to talk for more than two seconds. Hi – hi. And those days he was feeling quite talkative... We were in nodding terms, basically. But last week we parked at the same time, so we walked to the office together... talking! Amazing... He may have assisted that course, Communicating With Your Co-workers, or maybe How to Make Friends on a Rainy Day. The last handed out huge umbrellas for three people just in case u find somebody to talk to, so he had one in his car. Hey, useful. Ever since, we are in nodding terms again.

Another example is a friend of mine, a distant cousin, in fact. He bites.

And there is this point about myself that i already knew but has come to feel so close this week end. I am not consistent with my own decisions. Not at all... Well, maybe the thing is that my own decisions, from time to time, can be quite flexible... I like being flexible, u know? can be pretty useful.

Did i say that i HATE Mondays? Gosh, i feel seized up and giddy (maybe because of the allergy; i’m allergic to this job). So sorry if i’m being boooring, that’s because i’m sooo booored...

Thursday, June 17, 2010


U know what? I don’t wanna know if my face looks like shit. I mean, don’t wanna be told so, sure i’ll know, nobody needs to tell me TWICE. Did u get chicken pox? no. Wow, so those over there are zits? seems so. Hey, what have u been doing? mind your own business, u fucking asshole. Ok, i didn’t say the last bit, but i swear that’s exactly what i meant with my best fuck-u-smile. Eating chocolate, i’ve been eating chocolate.

I’m just tired. Exhausted... May have something to do with the fact that yesterday i had dance class and when i finished i had a whole mess of a kitchen and then shower and then arrange the living room and then... hell, i need a cigarette!!!! i’ll phone my best friend =D When i finally went to bed and was starting to fall asleep... somebody wants some water. And two hours later, some more. And, last but not least, at ten to six. So no more sleep for today... Maybe that’s why i’m tired... and when i’m tired i need caffeine AND chocolate...

Truth is i have to cut down on eating chocolate. Ok, got it. But here she comes again, with a big smile: sure u didn’t catch chicken pox?

I try not to be mean. I do, really. But at that point, and only thinking to myself, can i be exempted? Sorry, i just can’t help thinking hey, speaking of this, what about your big ass? (batting eyelashes) gym being of any use? =D

Wednesday, June 16, 2010


How could i make such a great mistake. I wonder.

I never feel like writing the pronoun that refers to myself in capital letters. I. But least of all, today. Right now i feel like crap. I just realized how big my mistake was. Like god. I won't write it in capital letters as long as it refers to sb that may consider him/herself perfect and still keep its newborn non-baptized creatures in limbo just because of a rough missing paperwork. Or it used to before the almighty spokesman (not person) pope abolished that hellish place. Wonder where did every little soul as far captive there went at that point. Did he get to mention that little issue? I’ll check up. And keeps trying to have everybody noted down in books and confessed before deciding about his/her goodness, despite its own omnipotence. Fucking bureaucracy. Wouldn’t use capitals.

Now... i decided to have a baby with him (my ex, not the pope or god...). He, who has shown to be such an egocentric and immature person. How the fuck did he seem a good choice by then? Was i egocentric and immature enough not to realize? Was i fooled or blinded by love or any other stupid thing like that? Is that only an excuse? Senseless.

So many men fighting to be able to see his own kids more often, to have "the half of them he is entitled by law"... and mine fights back not to see the best little kid ever quite as much. Not to talk to me when that sweet boy is having such a bad time just to try to make things easier for him. I don't care if he doesn't want to talk to me, really. But i swear deep inside i burst into tears when i see my son rejected like that. U raise him by yourself, then. That's gotta be hard to hear from your father's lips when you are two and a half.

Later on i actually burst into tears, once my son is in bed, under the jet of the shower. I didn't even say will u sign that? I'm not scathing till it's too late. And besides i don't talk like that in front of my kid, so it's better that such a comment didn't come to my imagination. I would have poisoned myself on biting my lips. I was just left there, at the open door, feeling so small, so helpless.

He was smiling. It hurt all the more for that. I can't help but thinking that he was enjoying it. But maybe he was just too tense and couldn't think of a better face to offer. I still believe he's not such a bad guy. But, heavens, i do think he seems so!! Is it simply that he hates me and wants me to suffer? He did tell me once that he was starting to hate me. I could understand that, but thing is he is not hurting me, he is hurting my son. Sure that hurts me. Is it worthy? Hurting your son just to see your ex's pain?

Really, i just don't get it. Guessing doesn't take me anywhere and i'm still at a loss...

Monday, June 14, 2010


I read a book the other day. On the back cover there was sth like a brilliant story that makes u feel alive; i love this book; a hymn to life and human values... Bullshit.

I hate happy endings when they don’t go along with the rest of the story. More if those happy endings mean that u have to find sb to share ur fucking lonely life, otherwise u wouldn’t be... what?! Are we just half a sth? What a shitty conclusion... Do we really need to end up with somebody?

In my parallel lives i can be whoever i want wherever i want whenever i want. I was thinking i was left to myself in a deserted island (tropic and heavenly, it’s understood...) with my son and, let’s say, six or seven people, one of them, of course, THE MAN. Sooo conventional... Picture that: tall, dark, deep black eyes, strong, great body and... no bike there, pity... am i sounding too superficial? sorry... he has to be interesting and everything, too, a citizen of the world, sensitive, etc. Ok, now lets say we are there for a while. Then, we would be found, for sure. I mean, not in the wildest waking dream could u think of not being found at the end... nowadays, navigation routes go everywhere, don’t they? But in the meanwhile we even had a child, probably... Sooo... we are found and so what? would we live together? excuse me, but a fucking island is opposite to reality, i mean, where the hell would we establish? there’s no need to answer such a question in that deserted island. On the tree or under it? would be the closest. And then, go back after quite a while and try to live with yourself and your children in an apartment again. No more heavenly island. My parallel lives try to be consistent, u know.

So either i end up in a deserted island and never found or alone. Ok, maybe living in a huge house with many, many rooms and bathrooms and people who'd clean everything and cook, as they are there (hey, well paid, huh?), maybe, just maybe that could help me living with a guy. But i'm not really sure about that. Hehe, i could try living in such a house, though...

Conclusion: the book was crap. A bunch of self-help tips nice enough, not very badly written, easy reading, simple and a bit stupid, but well, who isn't... and at the end... screwed up. Pity. I would have killed the main character. That’s why i’m not a writer, too bloody ;)

Mary had a little lamb

When i was about six we went to a restaurant in a village. Before having lunch, the owner took us to a little back yard and told me, rather “father-christmastly”, choose one, dear! There were plenty of little white lambs, sooo cute, and i said, full of hope, wow, will we take it home, mum?? Obviously, that was not exactly what that guy meant.

I don’t need to say that i didn’t eat but the starters.

This week-end i had a regression. Somebody said we bought five rabbits and when i was about to say wow, five, in less than four months they’ll throw you out of your house! another somebody spoke first (saving my reputation): do you think it’s going to be enough? and when they started talking about weights i finally got it. Pity, i was decided to ask them to give me a little one... I’ll go back to the idea of having a turtle...

I hate Mondays, by the way. I don't understand why they're still in capitals...

Friday, June 11, 2010


My goodness, today i feel like when you desperately need to have a pee and then arrive home and run all the way to the toilet while u pull off your trousers and underwear and, hell, it’s always too far, no matter for how long u have been holding it, because u could have never held it any longer...

Friday... i swear i couldn’t have endured it any longer...

Monday, June 7, 2010


Do u like puzzles? I don’t.
But they are good for developing, brain stuff and all that crap... Guess who ends up doing them when they are all scattered on the floor? ME. And solving puzzles that are thought for people of about three or four years of age is not really a challenge...

What IS a challenge is to fix a book after my son’d chewed it. A real challenge. I have to say that, in fact, that’s not happened frequently ever since he was 6 months old. But the other day i left him reading a book and when i came back he was actually chewing bits of it. He is old enough to know that's not the best way to use a book, but didn't seem much disturbed, anyway. I think i kind of overreacted at that point. Books are quite sacred for me... Holy shit!! what the hell are u doing?? I may have shouted, my eyes big and fixed. If i had to put 20p every time i swear, i wouldn’t last to the end of the month in a million years. Didn’t add you little rascal because by then i was not rereading Sherlock Holmes yet. Jesus Christ, don’t u see that books tell us stories and... Harmless, they are harmless. I didn’t add that. Just muttered sth like they cry, books, if u hurt them. Kind of dirty play, i know, but couldn’t make up anything better and fast, and a park-mate recently told me his mum used to say that. I just lifted it.

And here i am now, fixing the disaster long weeks later, when the blood’s all dry and hard on the corners. Blood? i meant spit. And i hate puzzles. Besides, try to hold two tiny irregular pieces together, add a third and, on top, some tape. The result is a poem.

And i don’t like analogies, but... well, yeah, ok, i may like them ;)... right now my life is a bit like that: scattered to pieces on the floor, waiting to be fixed and enveloped with adhesive tape. Am i not dramatic?

I still have some more books to fix, so i’ll start there. My life can wait a bit more; it's not that bad, anyway, just like sounding dramatic =)

Sunday, June 6, 2010

Wake up and smell the coffee

Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, ohmygosh!!!! I'm feeling kind of jealous of my ex, now... Note the “kind of”, please. I’m not really jealous, i don’t mind him hanging out with any other women, i've never being jealous and this is not the moment to start. But i have to say that this is a feeling just as destructive. I am kind of jealous of his social life, i guess. What if he is "dating" anybody? I don't care, it's his life and, in fact, i'd be glad for him. But... His social life's always been very ample, let's say. He's always had all the friends i didn’t have, so in fact nothing’s changed... But still...

You know, lately, my private life sucks. Not that i'm lacking offers... but i don't feel like having sex with any of the men i used to. That's all. I'm bored. And don't feel like going out look for others neither... or just going out have a drink... i’m feeling sociopath. I’ve always been a bit sociopath, in fact. The kind of sociopat that doesn’t like people, not the one that goes around killing them. Though from time to time i swear i’d kill somebody i know... Guess i don’t have the copyright there.

I’m feeling sociopath and self-destructive.

I guess i need sex.

I don’t want to go back with him. Do you know why i know? Not because lately i have learnt how stupid he can be, or how mean. Probably that’s only because he’s mad at me, or sth like that. He may hate me. He’s a good guy, in fact, though sometimes it’s hard to see. It’s simply because I like finding the things where i left them, and the way i left them. For example, the toilet seat cover. Can't help it! And the back of the frying pans, huh? It's clean now!!! And i don’t even have to use a scraper every two weeks... Besides, i like being alone. Smoke a joint by myself, from time to time, while i'm reading a good book... Guess all this not only means that i don't want to go back with my ex, but that i don't want to live with anybody else.

I wonder if this is gonna last long... probably. That's what i want now, in any case...

Anyway, seems that i do need to wake up and smell the coffee. I guess i’ll have to move close to a coffee shop, or sth.

Saturday, June 5, 2010


I desperately need a GPS. If i still had any doubt about it, everything got solved the other day, when i decided i’d leave for a mall that was supposed to be quite close and never found it. One hour later, i decided to go back home. Sad, isn’t it?

I took a big road, then another one. That was clear enough. Then the promised exit never showed up so i ended up in a lost village too far to be the one... But i tried again, i'm pig-headed. So when i failed for the third time, after trying three different ways that should have taken me there and learning that there was the town’s street fair swh close, i went back home. Nice little outing, huh?

What have we learnt today, kids? NEVER LEAVE WITHOUT A MAP. Googlemaps is helpful, even healthy... There is the town’s street fair in a place close to where i live. That’s always useful information... And i need a fucking GPS. Essential.

This is not the first time, sure. I think the first time may have been the one when my mom and i lost the car. I don't mean in a car park, that's happened many a time. I mean in a little town. Yep. Took us much more than two hours to find it. And we needed help, of course. A policeman kept asking, ma’am, u sure it wasn’t this street? So, ma’am, does this name ring a bell? He seemed to think we where aliens. Green and everything.

Ever since i have been lost so many times in my life that i cannot think of a particular one. Keep mixing thoughts and places. That’s why i need a GPS...

Once i even got lost in a forest. Night came and we couldn't see our own hands. We found a house, not of candy and cake; luckily, the guy there seemed to be more like Father Christmas, long white beard, big wide chest with braces... We where found there by a huge 4x4 with a big floodlight. How embarrassing...

Wonder if a GPS would have been of help...

Tuesday, June 1, 2010


My grandmother underwent a PET scan last week.

Kind of imagined a nice little animal waving its tail cheerfully and licking your hands, big expressive eyes and everything... Well, mmm NO.

Maybe they keep using this sort of nice little nicknames so that u don’t get too scared beforehand, maybe because thinking of an animal licking your hand would soften almost everybody’s mind, maybe because while u are thinking of it u won’t think much of that little man that’s to tell u you’re pretty much dying.

Ok, maybe not. In any case, i have to say that it doesn’t work, so they could stop thinking of cute monikers and start thinking of better ways to really describe the thing.
Utility to Get-word about Health (UGH), or Structure Unity Checker for Key Spots (SUCKS)...

PET will say if u have hot spots somewhere, along with the size and nature. Then doctors will tell u. Or your Grans. PET shows two hot spots in addition to the one we already had localised–i can picture a bold little guy, in a white coat, looking distractedly at some papers, not into anybody’s eyes–, so we are no longer operating. We’ll wait for the results of some other tests.

And then my mother told me. That’s the best part. She’s always been so tactful! I have good news and bad news. Good news are that Grans won’t undergo surgery the day after tomorrow–i’m absolutely puzzled, but before i have time to actually open my mouth to say that it doesn’t seem such good news for me–, bad news are that PET showed three spots; the lung one, we were aware of; the second one is on the adrenal gland–that’s fucking rare, in case u didn’t know–and the third is quite close to the colon–she was operated down there about a month ago, now she’s got a bag-to-be-filled-with-shit that she carries everywhere. Only starting to get used to it.

My mom could have said sth like good news she’s not being operated, bad news WHAT FOR?? That would have been quicker.

Ok, a positive attitude is half of it. And even more in cancer processes, at least that’s what i’ve heard. And family support is important. So i won’t be thinking she’s gonna die any minute. So i won’t keep repeating to myself please don’t die, please don’t die. So i won’t go to bed and cry till my throat seems to have a piece of chalk stuck there so that i can’t swallow.