Mothernity

Oookay... This was a freaking tuesday. This morning, when my father left me in front of the office, as he does everyday, he said: "There's something different here." And I looked around and said "No, everything is the same". And he "No, no, there is anything different here... maybe it's the door..." Well, I didn't mind what he was saying, and didn't notice anything different anyway. Me and my friend we work at the same place, and our building is the most far away from the Office Park entrance. There is no way you can see our building entrance from the front of the condominium, it's about 100 meters away and in a higher level than the street. Anyway, when we arrived at our building's front desk, they were actually installing new doors there...We immediately glanced at each other and agreed that was #creepy.

Last night I actually slept well and woke up happy, for I met Mr.Red* in my dreams. We were together again and incredibly happy, I couldn't stop touching and staring at him, just to be sure that was real. In my dreams he was with me in my room - I mean, it was my room, at my house, but it wasn't really the place where I actually live...-well, you know, this freakin' things that happens when we´re dreaming.- And there was a beige moth flying all over my room. I don't like moths, I'm actually very afraid of them, but in my dream I didn't care, totally enchanted by his presence, I even took that as a good sign or something. Woke up happy indeed...

A moth like this...

Unfortunately, after arriving at the office I had the stupid idea of researching the net to know what does it mean to dream about moths...Well, I didn't like what I got. I know it's stupid - and I'm so stupid that I actually went to confirm that with the Online Magic 8 Ball .Only to get even more disappointed...


What a hell am I talking about anyway...dreams and Magic 8 balls...

* By the way, after all this "50 Shades of Grey" fever and this "Mr. Gray" stuff, I'm starting to feel embarassing of refering to my lover as "Mr. Red". I started this long before I even know about that stupid book, but now I just can't stand the thought of people thinking my erotic adventures with Mr. Red are in fact some lousy non-creative version of a vulgarly popular bestseller. So, I'm starting to think about a new name to give him. Something that actually fits him better - and definitely not starting with a "Mr.".Suggestions accepted.

Not that I will bother to think about it right now...It's past midnight and I need to get some sleep before I turn into a pumpkin.

Happy Halloween!

Under her light

So, the moon is full again. At the end of the work day, I went out for a smoke and saw that huge red ball in the sky that mesmerized me for a long time - I couldn't take my eyes out of her and that was the magical moment of my monday. Needless to say what came to my mind by then, but that sure raised my spirit higher a bit.
I can feel the winds of change blowing stronger into my life. Yesterday I printed the first 40 pages of my masterpiece - well, at least the first part of the drafts of what shall be my first novel to reach out of the drawers. Of course I think it's shit, but I pooped it myself, so even if I never get to turn it on a bestseller, at least I'll know a piece of me will live forever through my stories. The best part of me, probably. Yeah, I know, I'm not big deal.

I also started considering some big decisions that shall take place on a nearby future. I am seeing things clearer now, this makes me feel safer. And warm hearted.

Maybe it's time to follow the lucky rune.

What now..?

One thing that makes me kinda anxious about life is this impression - no, this certainty - that we can never be really sure about anything. There is no definitive oracle, and no one we can ask for directions when taking the most important decisions.
I use to say, though, life get easier when you learn to read the "signs". Problem is that even interpretating this signs - when you get to recognize a sign at all - is anything but easy. To be sincere, I only really recognize it after some time. When the real deal is going on, I usually question myself about whether I should take that  importantly or not. And way ahead, if it was really meaningful, a bell will ring.
How useful it is, huh..?
Still it is what keeps me going on with a lil' bit of hope ahead. If such colorful moments did happen in the past, it's not completely impossible that it will happen in the future.

The other day I was telling a co worker and friend some of the amazing things that happened in my life. She commented " That´s scary..!", but in fact I think she thought I was lying. I dunno myself why I sometimes still engage in telling people these stories.  Maybe it's my karma: a storyteller who can not tell her own story. They'll say one "Forrest Gump" is enough.

It's not my fault. It's my life.

A whole lotta nothing

Ah, I love saturday nights. Even when there's nothing interesting going on, I know the day next I can stay in bed for as long as I want. I'm that kind of person who doesn't bother to wake up early if there's anything nice to do- which doesn't include working at all - but I'm not a morning person by nature. As I was some day in the past talking to Mr. Red : nothing interesting seems to happen in mornings.

It's half past midnight now, I'm at home, in bed, in my nighties. I went earlier to my cousin's baby's first birthday and I ate way more than I should. And I am childlike in this matter: just can't sleep when full of sugar. After all that candy, cake and ice cream, still no sign of sleep...

On the other hand, I'm emotionally exausted. I went through a rollercoaster of feelings today, most of them hurt me. Fortunately I still have a happy thought to lean on in times like these, but yet it annoys me. You know when life comes to remind you how stupid you can be sometimes? It's not only about feeling like an idiot, it's about knowing you are one. Hopefully was - in a past that will never, ever come back again. Today I know my value and the price of trading what I want for what is simply easy to get. In the end it´s not easy, and it can be a painful waste of time. So long time.


Regrets, I've got them. Mistakes, I've made some. Still, my gratitude is bigger.
Seems that someone up there is still watching over me...

Sad fact

Tomorrow it doesn't matter whom I vote for
There's no enough mayor to fix this city.

In public

I left earlier from work. Didn't want to go home, for I would have nothing to do there. I felt like having a drink, and though there was no one to come along with me, I didn't give up the idea. Sitting on a bar by myself before 6 pm on a weekday made me feel like an alcoholic, but who would to care, anyway.
I sit at the counter, ordered a Jäger and a beer. Cheers to happier past times, cheers to what is yet to come. There is no one around and I look at the far away tables on the darker corners, dreaming on being sitting there with you, feeling your hot lips in mine as your fingers slid through my panties and into me. I would unzip your jeans and sit on your lap, contracting quietly while I finish my last drink before taking you back to the hotel and have you all over my body. I want to get down to my knees while you stand up and stare me sucking your delicious cock. Cover me with your cum, just for me too feel what its like to be a real creamy bitch.

My mouth strange the beer while your hot flavour full fills my memories and I crave to drink from that temptation again. I bite my lips, have another cold sip. I'm just a lonely girl on a bar, or this is what everyone can see.

They have not the slightest idea of what I'm seeing on my mind...

Keeping it

Whether I like it or not, I must recognize one true fact: The biggest changes comes to my life when I reach the bottom of my patience and the end of my hopes. Sometimes this happens because I'm pissed off enough to thunder and shake the grounds of my existence. Sometimes salvation just comes from the sky as blessing. It happened in my life times enough for me to strongly believe it can't be just coincidence anyway. I wrote about this before.
Still, as life goes by, this "bottom" seems to get deeper and deeper. And I have this impression sometimes it's a test to make my patience grow proportionally higher. Some battles I win. Some I fail. But the worse is when I think I win and stand waiting for a reward that never comes. There, I think, lies the real test. And maybe that's what the humans call "faith".

What reminds me...

Eju Orendive*

In centralwestern Brazil there is a people called Guarani Kaiwoá. For centuries they lived on these lands, actually no one nowadays can really precise for how long original indigenous peoples have been living in the brazilian forests. I am for the fact that America was never "discovered": the ancient civilizations that were lightyears ahead of european lifestyle by then were actually robbed and plundered. And this violent colonization sowed a culture that despises their own origins, where everything that comes from outside seems more valuable and worthy than their very own blessings. Great companies and wealthy people, even the government don´t think twice on trading everything for money. And, of course this money never benefits everyone equally.
Now there is all this world buzz about Belo Monte. In case you don't know, Belo Monte is an hydroeletric power plant that is getting built to be the biggest on the planet, and ensure electric energy for south american countries. Problem is that it will ruin natural curses of the rivers, expell indigenous people from their homes, fuck up nature and traditional living, in sum. All this just to make money that, of course, ends up in wrong places. Cattle raisers and big agricultural business also have their great share of guilt in this tragedy. But who gives a crap about natural resources and middle of nowhere villages, if you can buy your place in heaven?

These Guarani Kaiwoá people are tired to fight. They sent a letter to the government department that were supposed to take care of indigenous, saying that they just can't take it anymore. And if the white people want, they can go there with a truck to dig a giant collective grave for the bodies of the 100 adults and 70 children that no longer can go on living like that, having to struggle for the right of staying on their very own land of their ancestors. Because of the speed of the communications and medias, right now the whole Brazil and the world are shocked by the news, and maybe this reactions might change something - at least while the issue is making headlines. But this is definitely is not a recent turbulence: the massacre have been going on for decades in silence, and will go on after people find a more interesting subject such as the last chapter of the soap opera, carnaval or the soccer finals.

* "Come with us", in Kaiowá language.

Where lies true freedom?

When I was a child I thought freedom meant to be free of all rules. Of course by then what I knew as "rules" were bedtime, homework and this kind of stuff we take as big problems before the teen ages. Then after, we think freedom is to have a car, to go out without permission without having a time scheduled to arrive back. And soon we'll find that when you finally get to do it, you'll be spending most of the time of your life tied to your job. It's absurd to me to realize how people live mainly for their jobs. Even if you have money now, you´ll only go on vacation when your job allows. Even if you have kids, you are only free to be a full time mom during the months you are on maternity leave. You spend more time with colleagues you hate than with your family you love, and guess what - this is pretty normal, common and acceptable.
Of course, I am the crazy one, but this just doesn´t make any sense to me. If I work I´ll have money, but what they are buying is actually my life. I am a writer. But I am writing now and you are reading for free: this is not my job or my work, it's my art, no matter how lousy it is, it's the only thing I can do. I'm actually happy that I have at least one talent I can make money on, without loosing my kid's custody...

Here, translating my thoughts, I'm really free. I can strip off soul-naked to you all, I can have my lover anytime I desire, I can tell you openly how stupid and absurd this society is, I can have sex and music, I can even go to the toilet and make you all aware of it, because fact is that right now I´m nothing more than words. You can't see me or hear the sound of my voice, you don't know my real name, and still, in some aspects you´ll know me better than my own genetic - and this because not everything I write here is actually the raw truth. Some - probably very, very few of you - know it. And that's where my freedom ends, to be bonded by will. I could go way further and open up to things I would probably regret later: I could embarass myself, offend or humiliate people. And these things not always comes rightaway.  I dunno about you but now I'm past 30´s, I have plenty of opportunities to notice how much little things done so long ago can change drastically one's future at some point way ahead.  This is not a moral lesson, it's the plain truth. If you´re too young still to believe, baby, sit, watch and learn.

In the end, we're always chained to something. To society, to our jobs, to our families and the respect we own to our dear ones. Some of us are enslaved by addictions and bad habits, vicious relationships and greed. We are free to make our choices, and condemned to live the consequences of it. Putting it like this sounds even threatening, but in fact it can be pretty rewarding too. We can't have it all: not all the pleasure, nor all the pain. And only knowledge can guide us  through the best options. Even for the ones who only learn from failure, there will always be another opportunity to trail a different path. Even if some bridges are now burnt and you can't go back. After all, forward is the only way to go...Especially when you are lost.

Maybe freedom is the way, not the destination.

Scar of wonders

At dawn he looks for me...

I wake up with his skin on mine, but I don't open my eyes, just feel.
He touches my feet and spills his scented firelike hair on my back, moving his strong hands up on my legs, he spreads it open...
Softly I moan when his lips touch my intimacy, kissing me deeply. His tongue moves inside me while he caresses my hips. A touch that grows stronger by the second, still delicately exploring my body, until he covers me with his weight and glides himself into me. He rubs his face on my neck, licking, kissing, sucking as if about to swallow me whole. His heartbeat gets stronger, as faster as he stocks me. Deeper. Desperately. I can feel him pulsating, rock hard and hot moistured, invading every inch of my body and my soul. I am the female that surrendered, enchanted, hypnotized, inebriated of love under that man supposed to be mine, when the biggest truth about me is that I'm his. He fills me and he feeds me, he's my happiness and lust.

Goddess I became under his sweaty skin.

Sleepless

Just saw one of my latest favourite movies. It's no blockbuster, just something that  happened to be on TV sometime, I watched almost casually, and ended up charmed by the sweet plot and exciting soundtrack. It's a story about friendship, trust, love and music in all its tones and tunes. And it kinda confirms a thought that I try to keep in mind lately: you should not give up on dreaming because of one broken dream. There is always a way for those who are not afraid of hitting the road.

It's a cheerful movie rather than a drama, though it left me little bummed. Not because of the story, but because I miss watching movies with someone by my side, someone I care I can make funny comments, laugh together or hold on to when I feel thrilled. Someone to kiss whenever I feel like kissing, and let the caresses go deeper and further as far as demands my desire, knowing I am exactly where I am supposed to be, on the hands that own me by my own will. Oh, he did say I would never forget him, and now I live everyday trying to figure out what kind of spell he put on me. Intoxicating mix of looks, intelligence, humor and chemistry that runs inside my veins and makes my heart beat faster. And if I'm worth your angry, hate me to death. Punish me, with every single reason you have to do it. Would you put away your dolls to play rough with me? I look like pop and fuck like porn, come closer because we're two of a kind and I know you like my game: You showed me your scars, I showed you mine, but nevermind, forward is the only way to go.

Great...I was supposed to be writing about the movie, not having this romantic delusion.
Told ya: I must get laid or I'll end up in a straight jacket.

This could be heaven. Or haven. Or raven. I'm not too sure.

Finally weekend. Just got home, took a shower, clothes off, TV on. "The Grim Adventures of Billy & Mandy". What a Friday night, huh?
I'm starting to get used to be lonely. I'm afraid I'm starting to get used to be empty aswell. Not enough to give up, but still I don't feel like I'm living the summer of my life. Anymore. But hey, maybe that makes some sense: it can't be summer forever, can it? I wish...

In a way, this endless dreaming keeps me inspired. I'd say like Rapunzel on the tower, like Ariel on the stone, but truly: I gave up fairytales for good. This time not because I think romantism is dead, but because I truly understood that real life is really better. Never saw a fairytale prince who makes the princess laugh as much as I love when he makes me laugh. Never saw a fairytale prince who had a really charming looks: they always seems to have a padronized beauty, which I despise. I value unique beauties. People that has something, some detail I won't ever find in anyone else. I cherish the special, and I know my love is no ordinary love. At least I'm sure it´s far beyond what today people seem to understand as love: some selfish, reserved feeling to which is more important to keep it reasonable, to keep it "real". People actually are keeping themselves from love actually. Don't you fall for this bullshit, that love hurts. It's fear that does it.


Maybe I'm just being ridiculous, but I'm missing nothing in keep on dreaming, in feeding my hopes on the silvery memories I have from moments when I was truly happy. It's not that the world was perfect, it's not that all my troubles in life were gone: but truly, I know how good life can be - maybe it can't get any better than that, but I wouldn't be expecting anything else while I'm alive and subjected to cold and hunger. If I´m condemned to cry every now and then, I just wouldn't want to cry over missing him anymore...
Am I expecting too much? I am not expecting anything. I don't expect. I hope.

And wait.

By the way, I´am fully aware that this blog is becoming terrible boring and sweet. Problem is that lately I only have time to write it in the end of the night, when I´m usually lonely and romantic, so I end up throwing this up here. I´ve been bit tired of the erotic stories: it's sometimes frustrating to keep my mind this hot, and my body that cold.

It will explode at some point, though. Soon.

Mr. Red never fails.

There's a song I can't get out of my head...

...and today I know it will be playing louder.

Yes, I'm this silly. But can't help it, it's just me.
 And my overwhelming feelings.

Let the days go...

Wednesday feels like monday. Maybe because of the hangover I had the whole day. I went to sleep last night, or better saying, this morning, with a major headache. Slept for three hours or so, and woke up with that feeling of empty head I hate. Well done to me, shouldn't drink one sip of alcohol with an empty stomach, but last night I happened to accept one dosis or two of whisky before I even remember I hadn´t eaten the whole day. I'm this kind of person who forgets to eat if I'm too busy or doing something interesting. Unfortunately, I was just too busy, though in the great company of a girl friend I hadn't seen in years. I've been meeting a lot of old friends lately. Maybe because it was me who stayed in the limbo for so long...

In the end of the day I was gifted with the sound of the laughs I love so much. It was a moment of bliss among the chaos. I was in hell, but heaven echoed only to me through my earphones.
At least until the boss came to call me back to the lousy reality of that shitty office...

Contemplating

He's my angel and sometimes he sleeps

Misses the point, misses me

He lost his wings and sometimes he cries

Alone he hides for no one to see

My little angel, you are so big

What do you want?

What do you seek?

What do you do in this crazy world

And for how long will I have you here..?

Unmissable update!

This weekend I spent mostly at home. The gates of the house decided to break and we were actually captive in here, since in this country it would be too much to ask for someone to fix the damn gate asap. At least I had a lot of exercise climbing the walls in and out to buy groceries. And I bet the neighbours had their bunch of fun aswell, for I never got in or out right in the first attempt. Well, tomorrow I'll go to work with arms and legs covered in bruises, and if it anyone notices I´ll just say I spent my holiday on a BDSM camp. I wanted to enjoy the Children's Day discount.

I tried to work a bit on a side project opportunity that came to my life a few days before, but it seems I'm not too inspired. Or rather I am, but it somehow came completely different than it was supposed to. I know myself, it's useless to force it. So I'm off to play some tic tac toe with Pikku Myy until her grandfather fall asleep, so we can take the car out for some wild sunday ride. Yes, I know it´s ridiculous. Yes I have a licence. And a very overcaring father too.

But I'm -a -do anything to get rid of this early symptoms of monday...

This depraved truth

Yesterday we celebrated Kid´s Day at a reunion of friends I love so much. In times like these I always  get thankful for the few, lovely trustful ones fate had put in my way.
But sometimes I feel misplaced. After all, my best friends are married. Today, I don't feel like I belong to the singles, nor to the married team. I'm a mom and this gives me some roots and responsabilities, also a kind of safety feelings. Though I know we raise kids to the world, and not to ourselves, having a daughter keeps me from feeling too lonely.

Yes, I do confess I have this so very human fear of growinlg old alone. Dying alone, for more that I had touched people during my life, leaving it with the painful feeling that in the end, I didn't really share my story with anyone. And I will never understand why.

I can come here and write posts and posts of the pussy wetting feelings and thrills I am lucky enough to know from this existance. I can open this up to anyone willing to acess this blog. But I really feel deviant when I'm writing about loving kisses and holding hands. Nowadays it feels indecent to be faithfully in love, to secretly crave for spooning, hair stroking, tickle games and breakfast in bed.  I´m an old fashioned lover, a concubine to please all senses, way beyond sex.
Some years before my marriage ended, my ex husband started to humiliate me by telling me what a waste I was, for not "doing anything". I gave up my professional life to be a housewife and I was very proud of it. Everyday when he arrived home, the house was clean, the laundry was done, the dinner was about to get ready. It wasn´t a paid maid, everything was done with a special care. And he humiliated me because I couldn't find a job.


Well, I guess the fact that after I divorced I never had trouble finding a job- and I actually was making at least double his salary.- Is enough for me not to have a single scar of this humiliation. Actually I did learn a valuable lesson: that I can't care so much about someone to the point of forgetting about everything else including me. I must take care of me to be able to offer my best. I thought I was doing my best, any I thought my best wasn't enough for him. Bullshit. He wasn't deserving of my worse, I was just too blind to see it. And now I see that the same "sense of commitment" that made him keep me for so long also made me keep wasting my efforts in doing my best in exchange.
I'm thankful for the lessons learnt. I'm glad also that the bad experiences actually made me feel more confident about myself and sure about what I want and what I'm looking for. I got to know myself, to valuate me, to valorize me.
The bad experiences on love made me love in a more refined way. Also a more adult and realistic way.

Who would want a fairytale, when your smiles are so real...

A little bit of this, a little bit of that

Way to go, me. I'm homedrinking again. I bet you readers are pretty sure of some things now, including that I'm a butt ugly misanthrope and an alcoholic. Here goes some incredible news: I don't give a flying fuck for what you think. None of you have a fucking clue about what it feels to be me. In fact, you don't even know if I exist, and probably it's the only thing we have in common now.

Needless to say I'm in need of a good rough fuck. Been dreaming of making love and I sure will appreciate it in the morning after. Making love is for sober people, and right now I'm loud and wild. Good for me. Not a chance I'll have any physical contact with anybody tonight, but probably this post will have a lot of acesses tomorrow. Usually chapters full of "fuck", "fucking" and pornography are.
And I'm actually happy I found one other girl who didn't like "50 Shades of Gray". I dunno if she decided that before or after she found out that it's actually a fan fiction written on the Twilight saga. You know, this is the only part I think that makes the book noteworthy. I like fan fiction. Most of you don't know it, but I'm a pretty good writer on this myself...


I feel like calling Mr. Red and telling him aaaaaaaaaaaaaall I want to do with him right now. Starting from a karaoke duo, we could bet a race back home, then take a shower with our clothes on, before getting into what you're really interested in knowing about. But I won't open it up for you tonight. Everything that comes to my mind now I'll keep to ourselves, in loving honour of this secret that everyone can see, but don't.

Well, I've been writing a lot here. What is not really healthy for my literary fame, since I have nothing really interesting to post, but pure verborragia. Theraphy, I guess. I spend the whole day writing mechanically at work, that in the evening I feel like writing something at ease, just to remember my life is not just about concrete descriptions of boring stuff. I can still enjoy it. I can still paint my world with the same letters that stresses the hell out of me at the office. And I do love the magic of reading this all some time after, and rescue some memories that once made me smile. The touches that made me shiver. The jokes that made me laugh. I am not smart and scientifical enough to build a time machine, but I can write and read my way back to the good times anytime.

And who would say our game of hide and seek would last forever...

A new dawn

Just opened my eyes. And I want to register it here, before leaving the bed, that today I'm taking a different chance of my life. Just for a change, at least within. Maybe life is not still, afterall: it's me who lost the ground just because for the first time I can't look ahead and see what´s there. I guess I even said that already.
This can be a good thing. And if it's not, I will make it be. And if I can't... well, I'll get screwed, as I would anyway, so it doesn't make much difference.

It's time to set the table for the feast, I'll be serving the leftovers of my hope.

What if...

...you could actually get to know your life's essential mission, and realize that, afterall, it's not as glamorous and heroic as it might sound?

I mean, I guess that it doesn't matter how brilliant your existence is, at some point, at some moment, it must get boring or seem so unbearably difficult. Sorry if I'm offending the true optimists here, but I really don't believe in people that is just so happy all the time about everything. This only exists in Facebook. On friday evenings.

And it's beautiful when we see a movie, a biography, even, about someone or ones that struggled against the worse odds and end up as winners. Or those ones who did not win at the end, but died trying. We cherish the will power of these people, but think again: I bet it wasn't nice to be wearing those shoes all the time. Hard times are hard and shitty to any human. So are this times when time seems to be standing still.

And dumb Hamalka thinks "Yes, it's just a stage, soon it will be over and I can get back to chase my story".

But along comes the little person that knows everything and laughs.

-What are you laughing at? - I ask.
-You, and your megalomaniac thoughts. You're quite a character, you know. One day is suffering a severe lack of self esteem. The day next you're actually sure you mean big deal to this world, to the point of having a "special mission" or something. Girl, you don't have a clue of yourself, do you?

I rolled my eyes. I do respect this guy, but sometimes I'm just not in the mood of trying to decipher his enigmas, which every now and them are just useful for the sole purpose of his own amusement.

-Here, take a look yourself. This is what your so-called fate expects from you.

And I read the oracle that never fails. And I read it again. And again. And backwards and forth, the same unmistakable clear signs.

-You gotta be kidding..!
-Not kidding, nor trolling, not even confusing.
-This? Just this? 
-If you want to put in these terms...yes. - he laughed again. - Too little for your great adventures?
- C'mon...I...I... - I didn't know what to say, so I sighed in redemption - Will I at least be sucessful at it?
-This I don't know, truly. But I can easily bet you're up to die trying.

And as always, I couldn't deny him.

Afterall, the stars doesn't look so bright when you're down to Earth.

No porn, nor news.

I was already expecting my life would get a little bit still and boring after all the twists of fate I've been living in the past months. But really, that's ridiculous. I just can't get rid of the feeling of "Now, what?" that's been haunting me lately. Long term plans are set. Problem is that I *fucking* hate waiting.

Not that it matters, but we had election day in Hamalkaland on sunday. Never in my life it was so difficult to choose among the same old stupid sons of some bitches. And I dunno if politicians are getting worse or if I'm just getting more and more tired. I guess even they are getting tired of the same empty promises. They could get tired of stealing people's money, too. Then we might really have a choice, for a change. And if it was hard enough to pick up one candidate this time, the decisive round in a few weeks will be way worse. I didn't and I wouldn't vote for any of the "finalists". This city may be a piece of shit, but it's the shit I live in. And I don't really think any of them gives a crap about it.

Democracy. Yeah, right.

Terabytes of memory wasted
Burned bits of couldn't care less
Hard disk full of so virtual moments
Lost for a malicious code of distress
What brought us closer is now disconnected
Cannot access the inbox of my fears
Night after night without getting the message through
You're still offline to my tears
Words on a letter are no substitute for skin
A glance on a picture can't reach within
your eyes safe searching my soul
Just to remind me how little I know...

Red nights over the city lights

Everyone expects something from a saturday night, but me. When I was still too young to care, saturday nights were the best, funniest time of the week. Then I grew responsible and religious and saturday nights meant the best, most illuminated moments I lived. Now I'm just fucking lost and the best I expect is a good movie on TV. Or a whole night asleep. If everything works more than fine, maybe I can get some interesting online chatting, especially if he's drunk, lonely and up for some spicy conversations. But I haven't been this lucky.

I'm so haunted by memories that my mind's been working somewhat as a time machine. One thought and I can be back, one step and I can change history. There he is, sitting in the rocking chair, watching something. I came from the bathroom, feeling my body hot and scented, wearing nothing but a towel, but he didn't take his eyes off the screen. So I took the black and white scarf I had left over the bed and approached him from behind. If he wasn't seeing me, he wouldn't see nothing at all.

-What the..? - He was surprised when I quickly blindfolded him with the scarf. Then I got to his front to shut him up with a kiss. Totally undressed, sitting leg spreaded on his lap, I was pressing my whole body against his. I could feel my pussy drooling and guessed the wet stain on his jeans while his big hands grabbed my ass. His hard-on was about to explode his pants, when I let my body slide down and kneeled to his feet, unzipping his cock I was so willing to taste. I couldn't get my eyes of his expression. His eyes were still blocked with the scarf, he throwed his head back and was curling his lips in a delightful expression. Moanings of pleasure were my guide through his favourite movements, and every little sound he made was driving me even more aroused. I took of his pants, spreaded his legs - I was licking and sucking his dick from the head to his asshole, a hot meat popsicle smearing me all over, his taste and his wheezing driving me out of control.


I climbed and sat on his lap, swallowing all that stick with my moisted cunt, I moaned out loud with every inch he was shoving inside me, we were both wet of sweat and sex, and the smell of his skin was indecently pleasant to my wildest female instincts. I needed to copulate with that alpha male, my body was urging to be fulfilled with his hot sperm, and I moved my hips as crazy, up and down to his cock, as languid and hard as a real latina mistress.
His breath was getting shorter as his face was contracting in uncontrolable pleasure expressions. I felt it coming as I moved in a way to make his cock rub exactly where I needed to. He was still grabbing me by my ass, spreading it open and softly touching my pulsating and moist ass. I took the scarf off his face one second before I cum.

-Look at me.

His wide open eyes were glowing. I was looking deep into it and gritting my teeth while I felt the shockwave of the overwhelming orgasm start to take over my body. I wasn't moaning but screaming, by the time he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore.His moaning turned into a savage roar when he spurted his hot cum inside me so strong I could feel the pression.

Still connected, feeling the aftershocks, we kissed deeply and embraced in silence, enjoying the sound of our heartbeats in synchrony. Night was finally falling onto that city.
Not this one I see now through the window, where the only shade of red upon me comes from the glimmer of the urban lights.

Wrong from the start

Just woke up. This time I'm sure my dream didn't make me any happy. In fact, it was curious how the worst part of it made me wake up exactly one minute before the alarm clock sound.
Maybe I had these awful dreams because yesterday I went to sleep with my head full of the evil that men do. I had some terrible news, I was very tired of working way too much, I feel somewhat alone and I know I'm pushing away some people who want to be with me. I feel guilty for that, and then I look in the mirror and I notice I'm not that kid anymore, to go on living as if I would never grow old. I won't be beautiful and willful forever, and although I know I still am, sometimes that's exactly the reason for me to fear how much I can still fuck my own future.

By now I'm pretty sure I came to this world to live quite a story. But I'm not sure about happy endings anymore.

Parallel Universe

First, I knew it was a dream because he was driving. But anyway, his presence was strong as reality, the smell, the voice, the smile - better even - that laugh I love  so much. And the touch, the heat. Everything so remarkably solid that it crossed my mind to question it, but then I remember that maybe is reality together that always seems like a dream.

-You don't get it. - he suddenly said at some point, eyes full of tears. - No one does.

And I woke up without knowing if I should be happy or sad.



My thoughts going onto you
Stalking you down through the ways I know
I will find
I love you
But only 
for the rest of my life...

Maybe full of hope

So, october it is. This year is really flying through me. And if it's true the world as we know is coming to an end soon, at least I can say that in despite of all the mess I've been living this days, I have a positive balance of it. In fact, looking back I see that I had more of the better than of the worse. And I'm thankful for every single moment, for all them are connected, and permeated for a love that's bigger than time. I did had it all, and I guess I still do.

Better even, brigther days will come. Even if this means going straight to the apocalypse.