This is awful... I have all this... All this great stories inside my head... phone callings, decisions, cars, love... even mermaids somewhere!

But I fogot how to write them...
I haven't write anything decent in months... Maybe there's even a year...

And I need that thing back! It was the only one thing that made me happy... Knowing that I could scape at any moment... And invent a great story to live inside myself...    Now I conform myself with that... Cheap american production... Well, I admit it, I love it!

But I wish I could write my own things again... :(

Maybe stop thinking in love stories would help me...
I'm all day, all days recreating in my head perfect moments where we love each other...
And that's what hurts me the most when then I realize that he's not what he was...
He's some kind of clown that fell too deep in his stupid play...
And that's the stupid true...
He's not the one I loved that much...
He's just another stupid client of that prostitutes...
Yeah, I know is a little crazy... He hates me and I hate him... Isn't weird?