Another Damned Dream

Aghhh, last night I had another stupid and weird dream. I've been avoiding the thought of the faded photograph, of the grey-eyed shadow, but dahhhh, I treasoned myself.

Well, it all began as a marvellous dream. I was really excited because my friend AG and I were about to go on a trip to England. Ahhhh, strange as it sounds, that was my dream come true (!!!). I don't know why we were going there, but the thing is that we were ready to leave. My friend was showing me the plane tickets... I expected to see 2 tickets, but, you see, there were 3 of them. Who else was supposed to go with us? Ohh, yes, her dearest friend, that is, the faded photograph. Of course I didn't want him to go, I didn't want him near me, but pride made me endure the situation and I decided not to show my disappointment. I was not going to give up the trip just because he would be there.

Then, I was in a hurry because I had not packed anything and, worst of all, I had forgotten our schedule. Getting in touch with my friend was impossible because whe was not logged in on messenger and my phone line was broken --well, that's a fact in real life, I have access to the internet, but the phone is dead--, and you know me, I didn't even thought about a mobile phone to reach her. Hey, now I see, if I had called to her mobile phone or if I had had one, the following part would have not taken place, grrrrrr.

As I was not to miss that great trip, I made a desperate decision. I would go and ask my downstairs neighbour... Yes, my neighbour was the faded photograph. Jajaja, I don't even live at a building!! Jajajajaja. So we met. That was creeepy, jajaja. His door was all made of mirrors of different shapes and sizes, and it was open in a strange angle because every part of it reflected either lamps, other doors, a sofa, cups, and in one of the mirrors I saw him sitting on a high chair, looking directly to me; it seemed as if he were waiting for me. Horrrrror!!!! I just got into the apartment in a zombie-like way, not knowing what to say, how to explain I had no idea what time our plane would leave, anxious and about to run away. Face to face once again.

I can't remember what we said, maybe we didn't say a word. I only know that he didn't tell me the schedule because I kept on packing stuff and looking for my friend. In the end I was dispaired with the image of the plane flying without me, jajajaja.

Well, what should I say about this dream? Last time I couldn't remember his face, but now I can. I couldn't remember his moves, now I can.

There's a lie in the dream. If we met in real life, I'm sure the encounter would not be that way; I mean, we wont' ever be in good terms. Behaving as civilized human beings is impossible when it comes to both of us. I used to think he detested me for reasons still unknown to me. Now I'm sure of it, and I can say I also detest him.

Hey, there's a thing I don't understand. Last time he was sitting next to a closed window in a gloomy atmosphere. This time there was an open door, mirrors, and his reflection in a space full of light. Is there a meaning in that????

A Superscription

Look in my face; my name is Might-have-been;
I am also called No-more, Too-late, Farewell;
Unto thine ear I hold the dead-sea shell
Cast up thy Life's foam-fretted feet between;
Unto thine eyes the glass where that is seen
Which had Life's form and Love's, but by my spell
Is now shaken shadow intolerable,
Of ultimate things unuttered the frail screen.

Mark me, how still I am! But should there dart
One moment through thy soul the soft surprise
Of that winged Peace which lulls the breath of sighs,--
Then shalt thou see me smile, and turn apart
Thy visage to mine ambush at thy heart
Sleepless with cold commemorative eyes.

Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Sonnet XCVII, "A Superscription"

*For a long time I could not forget a love that was intense and that was blind. A love that everyone could see through my eyes. A love that always made me cry. It was a grey-eyed shadow that tormented me to death, that made me shake, that I could not deal with, but it seemed to be a never-endinng nightmare.

Distance is good... You can pretend not to care.

Suddenly, memories came back and I was there seeing myself falling deeper and deeper, just as quickly as those memories were taking shape and colour.

Then the unbearable silent thoughts.

Now, I dare break free from any bonds between the shadow and me. Just as Rossetti means, from now on, I will remember everything, but in another way. He won't be the special one anymore. And I swear he will see me smile because I will not be daydreaming or hoping for anything at all. And that's the last image he will have of me; my coldness will be reflected into his commemorative eyes.

Because sooner or later we'll meet again, that's for sure.

Hurantia : Sunday

Living on the edge of silence
Fear deafening choir comes resounding
Intrinsic to the human heart
And it rises, and it sprouts in every shape.

Everything's so complicated
Fear confuses me and tears apart
Impulses of this lonely heart
And it rises, and it sprouts in every shape.

Give me strength to overcome this
Nothing that's consuming all; it age
My most cheerful illusions leaving
Them floating adrift
Blinding the flame.
Give me strength for not to cry, those tears
That confuse me all time. They age
My most cheerful illusions, leaving
Them lost in the dark
Fading the light.

If you only knew I'll die without you...

Here comes this thing again
Everything's inside me
Sometimes is isolated, and far from you
Everything's so cold
I can feel the touch
I can hear forgiveness
I can see the truth.

If you only knew I'll die without you
I don't know if it's good to show the fear to
You.

There's someone that quiets my avidity
That has control all over me
Something that drips a sedative
That relax my body and let it live.
It's like a dream, a delusion
That breaks apart my confusion
I need a taste of the world
And let my darkest passions overflow.

Give me strength for not to cry those tears
That comsume me all time. They age
My most cheerful illusions
Leaving them lost in the dark
Fading the life.

"Sunday" by Hurantia

Ahhh you must watch this video, the images are awsome, and what to say about the song, if you are a human being or even a vampire I'm sure you are going to feel the music and the lyrics deep in your heart. Well, at least I do... Mmmm, I'm on the human side, jajajaja. So now you have a taste of what Hurantia is, but, evidently, that's not enough. Please, go visit their website and enjoy all that this wonderful musicians have to tell the world.

*Facebook friends, you can watch the video on youtube: -click here-
Anyway, I'm also going to post it on my profile:P

**Tonight I had promised myself not to post something that could show any trace of sadness, but, you see, I couldn't help it; as soon as I caught view of this video on Lalo's profile, I had the urgency to show it because I love this song and because, coincidentally, that's just how I feel. All of the song is (once again, coincidentally) closely related to a story of mine; a story that has to do with this, and this, and this. It has just returned to me, as painful and intense as it was in the past.

Life In Mono

Yesss, I found it, the song for my new stupid phase

The stranger sang a theme
From someone else's dream
The leaves began to fall
And no one spoke at all

But I can't seem to recall
When you came along

Ingenue, ingenue
I just don't know what to do

The tree-lined avenue
Begins to fade from view
Drowning past regrets
In tea and cigarettes

But I can't seem to forget
When you came along

Ingenue, ingenue
I just don't know what to do

"Life in Mono" by Mono

*It's a shame there's not an original video for this song, but anyway, the slide of paintings is pretty. Ahh, by the way, there's a mistake on the video, this song is not performed by Portishead but by Mono.

*Aghh, I hate that the videos from my blogger posts are not shown on my facebook profile.

Lost And Found

Gosh, I don't really know how to explain the way I feel tonight. Why is it so difficult to breathe? Why my heartbeat is so fast and heavy? Why my memory insists on recreating things I had forgotten? The faded photograph is now full of colour; it shines and dazzles me. Some weeks ago I thought (because of a dream) it was a mere abstraction, but suddenly it ceased to be so.

Now I can recognise all the features, the circles into the circles, the sounds, the touch... It all's become so vivid.

Now I remember why I like the kind of shoes I wear, why I like Batman, why I like staring at dripping windows when it rains, why I always look for something in men's eyes, why a lot of things.

This is definitely weird. First a dream and then the answer.

---Another stupid phase begins---

Happy Whatever

I didn't forget about it, but I didn't feel like saying anything. Maybe it's just that there's nothing to say.

Ahhhhhh, those happy days are gone. So much time and I finally think I'm losing. I never imagined it could happen, but I see it coming; the end.

Friendship FrIeNdShIp Friendship F R I E N D S H I P

What does that word mean tonight?

My dear Rimbaud: I love you a lot, you still mean much to me, but I won't be there... No more. Happy whatever.

*Jajajaja, as if he were to read this.
*Although this was posted on September 23th, it was meant for the 22nd.
*Mmmm, yes, this has to do with the post La amistad apesta. In fact, it's la amistad apesta.

15 Minutes of Shame

Image taken from the collection Bears and Bunnies

I've been thinking... I don't really like the way I am. I guess I should make a change; I guess I should stop being so transparent, I should keep my thoughts for myself only (when it comes to people). Some say I'm not a Selfish at all, but I AM!! My problem is a lack of precious wisdom, that is, I don't seem to know when to stop, when to go away; instead I go deeper and deeper and it is only when I'm all disappointed that selfishness emerges. But you may say that's completely useless because when it happens I see myself exposed, ashamed, and regretful.

The good part of it is that I only go through my 15 minutes of shame and then, you see, I'm perfectly able to go on.

After all, nobody said it was easy to deal with feelings.

Beforehand

And when he said...When he said he could not care less
It didn't matter,
I was already leaving it all behind.
A meaningless smile was all it took to let me in,
A clear statement all I needed to get out.

I'm a spider looking for another wall.

Bear In Mind

Image from the collection Bears And Bunnies

*Hey, I just haven't been able to find out who the creator of this collection is. Please, tell me if you know something about him. I only know it must be a Luke (because of the sign on some of the drawings).

Gone With The Rain

Emmm... Emmmm... Emmmmmmm... Yesterday I wrote about the beauty of rain, about remembrance, longing and desires. But today my Post-Romantic rainy idea is quite different.

This afternoon we had a terrible, violent and disastrous storm. I thought it was perfectly normal because of the season. When it started hailing I looked out from the window and saw that water was holding back at the car entrance. It kept on raining and raining and when I tried to go out towards the yard I realised there was something wrong: my yard was flooded. Besides, the car entrance was just the same and, even worse, water was straining through the lower part of the main door. I got scarred!!! My bro tried opening the door in order to see if we could do something with the drain on the street (maybe there was trash blocking the pipe), but ohhh as soon as he half opened the door, a stream of water started entering the house, so we decided we'd better keep it closed. Gosh, we were just standing there watching the level of water going up and the rain wouldn't stop. Then, one of my neighbours tried to check the drain from inside his car (it was a most peculiar image), but nothing. He just managed to take some fallen tree leaves away. Conclusion: it was not the drain neither inside nor outside the house but the quantity of water falling from the sky.

Fortunately it was only the yard that was flooded, but we were really worried because at any moment the water could actually start flowing inside the rooms. Priorities:
*Keeping our pets sound and safe... Even Gaspar, our adopted street cat.
*Placing our most cherished possession (the computer, jajaja) on a high shelf.
*Of course, musical devices should receive special attention.

Thus the party got started.

As soon as the rain eased up a little, we would have the main door wide open and, equipped with buckets and brooms, we had to take the water out of the yard. We would have never imagined something of that sort could happen. Living downtown seemed to be so secure, supposedly those things cannot happen here, but we were wrong, muajajajaja. Well, it was a long evening because as soon as we took the water out, it returned again, but we were not able to figure out what the cause was.

My next door neighbours were in trouble because in that house the water was inside the rooms and in the back part of the place the level of water reached up to their knees. But that wasn't all, ohhh nooo, because besides that, they suddenly noticed their flat roof was flooded and it became a waterfall, which means that everything in there was wet. When we were tired and thought we had finished the job, it became clear it was going to be a looooong night: it started raining again!! The yard flooded again!!! Aghhh, there was no apparent reason for that; there was no trash blocking the drain and the street was not flooded anymore. On the radio they said the city was chaotic and asked people to be patient because there were a lot of problems at hospitals, roads and all the rest. I heard many people were stuck at god knows where and had to let their cars behind and just walk, subway service was also suspended at some areas, and at some points in the city there were power cuts.

12 am - We discovered the reason of the problem. We were told people living at the back street were literally swimming inside their houses. Ohhh, yessss, we went to witness the fact and found cars blocking the entrance to that street, all the doors open and people uselessly fighting against the water. They looked really dispaired. You couldn't even see the edge of the sidewalks. Then we went to find out and saw that all the surrounding drains were filled to the top and that it was impossible for the non-professionals to repair them. That is, the problem was not trash but the amount of water, then no matter how much effort they made in taking water out of their houses, it would continue just the same.

When we came back home there was no water neither in our yard nor in our next door neighbours', but happiness is short and minutes later the level went up again. We decided to keep calm (ommmmm, jajaja) and wait for the civil defense department or the fire department to do something about it. We thought that if they could solve the disaster at the back street, the level would get reduced everywhere else.

3 am - Everything's back to normal now. There's no more water in my yard. Uffff.

Results:
*Wiggie, one of my precious cats was missing all the while. He's come back, but is afraid of everything and as he is an extra furry thing we had give him a bath.
*Now we have to put everything in order -computer, books, disks, musical instruments-. Thanfully it turned out to be unnecessary to prevent our things from being ruined because the rooms remained completely dry.
*The heavy rain and hailing caused severe damages to my mum's plants. The avocado tree seems weak, the roses... well, actually there are no roses anymore, the tomatoes are on the floor (aghh, they looked delicious, but now are rather smashed), and the green tomato plant yesterday had some flowers (we were excited because of those pretty yellow flowers) but now it has none. I guess my mum's goin'g to get depressed.
*We have to meticulously clean the yard -soap and desinfectant are a must-

2 pm - Well, now everything is back to normal around here. It's cloudy but the weak sun has come out again. We have already checked the outside and inside drains and they are fine, the plumber says there is no trash, he confirmed it was the unusual amount of water. My cousin (who turns out to be one of my next-door neighbours also) is mocking me because she says yesterday I had a sexy look, jajajaja, you know, I was all wet and wearing a pair of capri pants in public, Ohhh, the I-feel-like-a-Victorian-girl showing her legs in public, how comes??? Besides, I started talking to one of the negihbours, you see, I'm the antisocial Selfish and don't even know most of the people who live in the same street as me, but this man was the one who tried to check the drain from inside his car, he was really kind. Everybody is talking about the strange event, and busy busy cleaning.

In spite of all I guess we were lucky because it was a minor problem, but I'm sorry for those people whose houses got flooded. The grocery store and the stationery store at the back street are all ruined, and I guess the neighbours round there must be sad. Besides, I heard at many places in the city it was much worse, people got trapped inside their houses and it was necessary to take them out there on motorboats or something like that. Ahh, but do not think it is a matter of how wealthy or poor the zone you live at is, I was told even the fancy condechi zone and residential complexes were in trouble.

My bro told me a truth; a rain like yesterday's is naturally meant to fill the water bearing stratums, but, as it happens, greedy human beings have broken natural equilibrium, and have expanded the urban areas to such an extent that mother nature's taking revenge on us all. I still love rain, but now I perceive not only its beauty but also its heaviness and the magnificence of Nature's power. I'm respectful.

*It is curious... If you live in Mexico City you've probably heard that every time it rains, the people who live at Iztapalapa or at the limits between this city and Estado de México suffer from sever floodings, but it has become a normal thing, it surprises nobody, and on the news they only say "well, it always happens, ohh, yes, let's help them", but no one seems to care. Now many of us are aware of the danger and are conscious of what many people goes through year after year. I only hope our good for nothing authorities don't go saying "ahhh, it was nothing, it won't happen again, when it comes to natural disasters we are prepared for any contingency, our city-country is going stronger and stronger, you people don't worry, in any case we can always ask for Superman's help!!!" At the same time, I hope people think twice before throwing trash on the streets, before building fancy or poor houses on forbidden zones, before cutting trees down, before voting for stupid candidates who only want power and money at our expense. Let's put our brains at work!!!!!

I took this images from MSN News


-Near Zaragoza

-Tlalnepantla

-Near the airport



-I don't know where

-Venustiano Carranza

Wow, this is what I call a long post, jajaja.

Storm

It had been a long time since I last took a walk in the rain. I had almost forgotten how good it feels. Tonight I did it again. I cannot really explain why, but I love rain falling down on my face, on my hair, on my hands. Above all, I love the sight, a sky that is neither grey nor blue, a blurred vision because of the falling drops, car lights making rain shine, even trees seem to revive and become greener. And the smell of wet earth, it makes me aware of life itself, of the wonder of our senses. The cold wind moving my hair as it pleases, at times so soflty, at times so violently, that's a selfish pleasure.

In the beginning I remembered those last times. One with Blackeyed, and one because of Blackeyed. The former was great, drops of rain entangled on his eyelashes, and we both laughing and kicking puddles. The latter was sad because I walked in pain --no more to say--

In the end I could only wish somebody (whose name I will not mention) were there with me. I was dying to know what rain makes him feel, what rain evokes to him. I wished I could share that moment with him. I don't understand what happens with me, maybe it is pure infatuation... Yes, it has to be simply that.

**A great fact: I was carrying my Larkin book, and I managed to keep it safe from the rain. It's intact!!!

**A weird fact: People must think I'm mad. They seemed scared of looking at a black-haired woman walking in the rain. What they don't know is that they are the weird ones for me.

Selfish

Rabenfresser on deviantART

The Return Of The Queen

Yeees, the return of the queen... The queen of public embarrassment, jajajajaja.

Mmmm, today I had to do the shopping. Believe or not, Wednesday is my cooking day. Even the Selfish has to eat, and if she wants to eat she has to cook, and in order to cook she must do the shopping, jajaja. Well, the thing is that I had just bought some meat when suddenly I found myself sitting on the floor. I didn't notice the floor was all wet and slippy because some irresponsible people were cleaning, but there I was happily walking and not wearing my dear boots but a pair of cute shoes. Jajajaja, I can see myself trying not to fall, which just gives certain suspense to what is inevitable, jajajaja, and then the floor. I'm surprised my glasses didn't go flying. Jajajajaja, you should have seen me there, jajaja, sitting on the floor all blushed with my hair completely over my face and laughing completely amused. Ahhh, but I didn't lose the meat I had just bought, it was all the time in my hand, jajajaja. The worst of all was trying to stand up, because my shoes kept on slipping. Aghhh, everybody saw me, jajaja, but nobody could laugh at me, because I was already laughing. I suppose people don't find much fun in mocking somebody who's mocking him or herself.

The only problem now is that my leg hurts, jajaja. It is not an aching pride, it's my poor leg, aghh I hate my knee, it's always complaining!!!

Well, this is only one more to the list, Uhhh, it's such a long list!!!

A Nonsensical Post

Here you have, five truths about me :

Boys who wear glasses are irresistible to me
I love chocolate
I'm afraid of writing
Learning German is fascinating
Tonight I'm confused. What am I feeling? Maybe this is nothing but a silly phase (I hope it is just a silly phase).

***I warned you, this is a nonsensical post :p***

The Cloned Selfish

Have you ever heard that somewhere in the world there must be someone who looks just exactly like you? Well, I have discovered there are a few clones of me, jajajaja, it's true!!! I don't like people telling me those things, but I have to accept they're not lying. The worst part of it is that my clones are not real people but artistic clones!! Well, maybe it would be more shocking to be face to face with a living clone, but how comes that my clones are always to be found in art???

Some minutes ago I was browsing through Neo-classic French painter Adolphe-William Bouguereau's works and I found this one, The Little Beggar:

I'm surprised, she looks like me or I look like her, whatever, jajajaja. I can't believe it.

Uffffff

***Ya no quiero terminar de explicar la Teoría Fridiana***

De pronto la anécdota perdió sentido.

Tal vez luego, ¿Quién sabe?

Probablemente sólo sea cuestión de que otros ojos lindos me quiten el sueño, jajajaja.

Teoría Fridiana I

La Teoría Fridiana se originó en una tarde calurosa. Ese día mi amiga AS y yo estabamos cansadas de ñoñear en la facultad, así que decidimos hacer algo distinto. Ya saben, no se trataba sólo de tener vida social o una plática que no fuera acerca de literatura o cualquier otra forma de arte (de verdad, a veces resulta agobiante). Entonces nos lanzamos a la aventura de la cerveza y la botana en un lugar maravilloso al que casi nadie que conocemos iría. ¡¡Un establo!! ¡¡En plena ciudad!! Ahhh, el lugar era genial, había vacas de ojos enormes y mirada paciente (ahh qué dulzura); en una mesa había señores ya mayores jugando dominó y en otra había un par de galanes pubertos que muy pronto se aburrieron de tratar de congraciarse con nosotras. En fin, el caso es que más allá del alejamiento literario, lo que buscábamos era poder hablar de cosas tormentosas, o sea, hombres.

La situación era más o menos así: teníamos lo que no queríamos, queríamos lo que no teníamos y no sabíamos si debíamos arriesgarnos al cambio. ¿Uh? Trataré de explicarlo de otra forma.

¿Qué teníamos? Bueno, ella tenía un tamborilero malencarado. Yo tenía un fiestero chistoso.

¿Qué queríamos? Ella quería un skater revolucionario. Yo quería un hobbit poeta.

¿Por qué no sabíamos si arriesgarnos al cambio? Porque parece que es más cómodo resistir que emprender... Sí, eso es estúpido.

Entonces empezamos a discutir, ¿qué demonios es el amor? Jajajajajaja, sí, eso es aún más estúpido. Imposible definirlo. Imposible llegar a una conclusión. Tratamos de adivinar qué había más allá de la mera atracción y entonces se nos ocurrió que tal vez empezabas a amar cuando ya no te importaban ciertas cosas que al principio eran muy notorias (que si al skater le gustaba la trova, que si el hobbit era apenas tan alto como yo), pero no, definitivamente eso no es equivalente al amor.

En medio de la frustración y la indecisión llegó la epifanía. Ahhh sí, porque vaya que llegó. Se supone que esa tarde estábamos huyendo del arte, pero ya saben, a algunas personas éste nos alcanza dondequiera que vayamos y nos da respuestas sutiles (o somos tan atormentados que queremos ver las respuestas en él). Pues resulta que en un sitio alejado de nuesto hábitat, donde la gente va a comprar leche, pulque o cerveza, apareció un vendedor de arte. Por supuesto no era un pintor o un experto de galería, sino un señor que vendía cromos (creo que así se les llama a los posters pegados en una tabla y forrados con plástico). Para nuestra sorpresa, este hombre no vendía cromos de cantantes de moda o chicas sensuales (jajaja), sino réplicas de pintores reconocidos. Vaya que eso era extraño. Cuando se acercó a nuestra mesa, nos mostró paisajes y algunas obras que logramos reconocer, pero hubo una que nos cambió el panorama. Sí, es justo la pintura de Frida Kahlo que ilustra este post, Diego y yo. En cuanto la vimos, comenzamos a reír porque ahí estaba la respuesta que buscábamos.

...Este post continuará mañana...
Muajajajaja.

***Me gustaría saber qué opinan los demás de esta pintura, cómo la interpretan. Aghhh, olvidaba que casi nadie deja comentarios jajajajaja, pero sólo medítenlo un poco y después comparen con la Teoría Fridiana. Veamos qué tan diferente pensamos.

It Can Always Be Worse

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

Edit: Sorry you cannot see the complete joke on screen. It seems I cannot adjust the width of it. Well, I guess then there is no joke at all. Shame on me!! It is so funny jajajaja.
*If you click on the image you will be redirected to the page I took it from.

Palabras que se esconden

No sé qué hacer para contarte
que hoy intenté llamarte
por lo menos 20 veces

¿Qué hacer para explicarte
si quiero hablar contigo
no me salen las palabras?

Tic tac
tic tac

No sé qué hacer para decirte
que eres como una carta
que me falta por abrir

¿Qué hacer para explicarte
que no encuentro las palabras
que había escrito para ti?

Tic tac
tic tac

La verdad es a veces mentira
lo bueno malo
la amargura simpatía

El amor es a veces mentira
la pasión hastío
la tristeza alegría

No sé qué hacer para explicarte
que tú eres como un libro
que no supe escribir

Con palabras de amor
con palabras que no mienten
con palabras que se esconden
y que nunca sabré dónde

Tic tac
tic tac

Con palabras de amor
con palabras que no mienten
con palabras que se esconden
y que nunca sabré dónde

Tic tac

"Palabras que se esconden", Jarabe de Palo

Ufff, y de verdad yo estuve a punto de llamar, pero no pude, no sabía qué decir. Se supone que esto debería ser más fácil, se supone que todo está bien, que es divertido. Saludar no es un buen pretexto. Decir "ahh, quería escuchar tu voz" suena estúpido. No puedo, no puedo, no puedo, no puedo hablar. ¡Zas! Nunca lo hubiera imaginado. ¿Por qué de pronto siento que me hace falta? Esto no tiene lógica.

Anoche, anoche soñé...

Aghhh otro sueño simplón que se torna extraño. Misma situación, distinta visión.

Nieve, caminos, mucho frío. Eso lo puedo explicar.

Una casa en la que juro que nunca he estado. Otro grupo de amigos. Plática. Otro rostro... Claro, es ACHA, el del coqueteo amistoso... Close up, close up, close up.

Impulso que sólo en sueños podría tener (ya saben que estando despierta la timidez no me deja dar un paso).

Esto tiene gracia. ACHA no es una fotografía desvaída. ¿Por qué será?

Enseñanza del sueño: tengo complejo de vampira y nunca lo había notado. Jajaja, eso no lo voy a explicar. Habría que estar peligrosamente cerca de mí para averiguarlo.

*Para mayor información sobre fotografías desvaídas vean este post, jajaja.