But but but thinking
I think I have a problem with myself.
not used to being alone, do not have a male figure to think about.
I'm trying to fill my life with new projects and people just can not think. I drive. I want something a bit overbearing and I act like an idiot to get it. Then when I start to think about because, well, then I will stop them.
Some things I like because they have not yet had, in fact my stupid greed.
I like you. But then not much to tell the truth. But I want you. But I never put it to you. I love just because I like and why I resist.
And then I realize that my life is nothing more than that. a chasing after the things that fascinate me, to particular persons.
I want to get drunk. Of course poetry. Find the art in people, I want to see their soul. Inhale all their beauty, feel the irregularity of the breath, observe the way in which the arch lips when they smile.
Observe and listen to understand.
I am an artist a little perverse, nothing more.
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