Fuck

Poronga thinks I copied from the Internet. Well, I did, but I copied just a fucking sentence. I didn't find a way to say it in my own words. Actually, I don't have any own words. I'm a copy, I'm not myself, I'm something ridiculous, I'm a fake.

Sorry for my bad English, English isn't my first language.

Last night I was in a concert, Magaly Solier's. I loved "Citaray". I don't understand quechua, but I loved the melody, the music. It was great. Fucking great. And Magaly is a lot of fun. I really enjoyed it, but I wasn't completely happy. I was thinking about her and all the fucking things she's done to me. I cannot hate her, 'cause I love her to death. But I hate what she's doing to me; I fucking hate what she and her girl are doing to me. OK, maybe I do exaggerate. Yesterday I was thinking about it. And I decided to stop caring about it. I said, fuck, they're a couple, they can do whatever they want, they love each other, and you're just a "friend", maybe they care about you, but not the way you'd like to. So... stop it, ¿OK? You can feel really bad, fucking sad, but nobody will care. Stop it.

OK. I will stop being such an idiot. What I hate the most is that I always help them to be together. Fuck, I fucking hate me. I do these things 'cause I love her and I don't want her to be sad, I don't want her to feel as I do.

I feel disappointed, but they don't give a shit about what I think or feel.