comb and the absurd.
Monday, July 26, 2010
What Was Your Cervical Mucus Cm Like Before Bfp?
in my life when things are meaningless, or redefines them to leave. My hair does not make sense, although they look in different perspectives and angles, not see it. A while ago I stopped analyzing and my hair stopped long ago.
The relationship with my grandparents sometimes makes no sense. To get along, I have to leave my side mentality. Then play a little, then I tell my grandmother that I am going to tattoo the pressure and you make your hair stand on end, then I laugh and tell him a joke. Another day I said I sold everything I had and I'm going to go on mission to Africa, then my grandmother makes a face of panic and they poke a tear I say "no, silly, what I'd do without you?" And the hug. My grandfather spectator opens big eyes while doing the crossword.
In general, things are significations which make no sense but I can not live without them. The relationship with my grandparents did not make sense, but I love deeply, I like going to visit, know that I expect and feel the smells that take me to children. My hair does not make sense, then let him aside.
relationship with Rachel lost consciousness very quickly. Every time Rachel was fighting with her boyfriend, ran into my arms. And I was helping, I loved her again, but I knew it was like a song from an album of those that I like but I fanatizan: the loved than she was on track, then passed to the next and there she was not in the letter, or there was any other way. Loved her to little bits of night, slowly. It was the only way I could love her. And he knew it and why I never allowed more.
One night we were in my bed, I smoked a cigarette on his back, something on the pillow. She was face down, supported by his arms flexed and legs moving like a pendulum. We started talking, as usual we finished making love.
- I still think I love you - I said.
- And? I do not know what I say.
- Because I love you for that.
- Yeah, baby, but come with me when you want. When you need it. Boredom. And I'm the gila stacking all feelings to avoid being hurt.
- You're a bitch, I tell you I love you and see what I say ...
- Yes, but I'm the bitch you love. I think I better not call me anymore. It makes no sense.
- So you tell me what to do after love?
- You told me you loved me after making love. I tell you I love you after you fired. Chau beautiful, you're one of my best memories.
gritted teeth, I do not know what words he kept in his mouth. She put the jeans without looking at me with hatred. I was in bed naked smoking my cigarette. And I said he could not continue resignifying redefinition so she would not give a damn. That or I did something more or less rose to its feet and not more than attending a whore call. That for jerks was her boyfriend. That what bothered me was that he is not sincere, did not love me, just pulled it out of the routine, but how was content to see me every now and then to fuck her boyfriend like that.
The absurd things I felt could only let in people over 60 who really loved me and that I could not ask you to understand my thinking. And after all, my grandparents sure that banks also had these comments of mine to them, meaningless.
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