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Terigenderbender.comLots of Spanish prose in here (All from this January)


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#1 iamisandisnt

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Posted 29 January 2013 - 05:18 PM

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Mi madre es buena. No se que voy hacer cuando… no sé. Espero no perderla otra vez. Hoy me llegaron los resultados de sangre. Espero no perder a mis hijos cuando se enteren que mi cuerpo se esta auto destruyendo. El hematocrito y la prueba de hemoglobina me ven a los ojos y los beso. Mi madre es buena y mi hijo los manda a saludar. Es el mayor y me da luz. Que amor tan brillante.

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Jan 21 2013
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Uncategorized Aside

Siete caras. Son las que tengo. Realmente todas son… aburridas, si las comparas con las miles de caras que tiene nuestro Dios. Estoy segura que todas mis caras han llorado alguna vez menos la mas interna que es un mar profundo sin fin, extremadamente salado. Algunas caras mías han devorado helado sin parar, sin compartir; a solas.

Dios, que comezón tengo en la cara.

Digamos que unas dos se han reído pero solo una es real, la que es un abismo sin parar. Temo que esa cara ha sido vista por mi padre al morir. La noche me dice que esa cara ha sido vista por la madre de mi esposo al morir, nadie mas.

Ni yo la he visto; aveces tengo sueños y solo presiento esta cosa que tengo que es lo que seguramente me define. Confieso que tengo miedo de que sea algo maligno.

Cuando le canto a mis nenes por las noches se oyen las olas de esa cosa de vez en cuando, sobre todo cuando miramos las estrellas, tirados todos sobre la cama, cubiertos con sabanas frescas y oscuridad tranquila.

Antes en mi niñez, mi mami nos cantaba por las noches también. De ella aprendí porque de ella provengo. Nos cantaba baladas sobre la muerte y el amor. Eso nos arrullaba mientras nos hacía cosquillitas sobre la espalda. Quiero.

Ahora yo y mis hermanos estamos separados, somos extraños. Un hermano abusa de mi a larga distancia y yo abuso de la negación. Una de mis siete caras mas requeridas por mi. La negación. Es que, no quiero terminar con nadie. La vida es muy corta. Es un chiste, no? También mi madre decía eso… que la vida es una chiste cruel.

Que significa el temer nuestro mar personal? No acepto nuestro mal profundo como respuesta. No voy a tener un tsunami mental. Respiro y abro la boca. Aliento de queso; prosigue. Estoy de vuelta a la realidad. Ya casi llega el sol.

Todos los planetas y todas las galaxias que existen son una recolección de mi marido. No quiero morir sin que él. No lo haré.
Jan 20 2013
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Pink Heart, Octopus Kool Aid
Little DancersAll the dancers in the city
Dance to the center;
The inner middle
Oh, have I made mistake?
Have I dug through the earth,
In the bottom of the eye?
Have I made a big lie…
Out of myself?
Out of myself?
I don’t know what you got
But, I see who you are
My pink heart attack misses you so bad
Have I made a mistake?
Have I dug through the earth
Just to find out you took me… out of myself.
Jan 18 2013
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Rafael.

Antes de casarme estaba perdidamente enamorada de un muchacho perdidamente inconexo y salvaje. Mi meta en ese momento crucial de mi crecimiento (de niña a mujer) era sanarlo con tan solo mi mirada. Que claro, fue un fracaso total. Fui muy egoísta al pensar que eso era posible. Aparte de todo lo obvio, cuando un hombre es auto destructivo no es posible que él pueda apreciar la esencia medicinal de otra persona, si ni a si mismo pudo apreciar. Ay, como era muy joven y para agregarle también muy arrogante para comprender a otra persona. Así que me fui destruyendo a mi misma con el transcurso del tiempo; me encerraba en mi cuarto, ebria y tiesa, a llorar por horas. Esto pasaba asiduamente cuando realizaba por las noches, sola y angustiada, que él negaba no tan solo mis miradas que le daba (cuando trabajábamos en el estudio comunal sobre la avenida principal de San Diego) pero que se hacía el tonto y pretendía hacerse el ignorante, desatando mi lujuria o amor o quien sabe que era (falta de atención, perphaps?). Peor aún, pretendía no darse cuenta de mi amor infantil que le tenía con tanto vigor. Eso que éramos compañeros de trabajo por un periodo largo. En realidad, fue un suplicio que impuse sobre mi misma. Eso sí, nunca voy a poder decir que se portaba malo conmigo. Fue un gran ‘hermano’ y nunca jugo con mis sentimientos, aunque hubo unos momentos donde el suspenso me mataba y sospecho que al principio de nuestra amistad mi afición por él lo entretuvo cuando tomaba alcohol. De vez en cuando, Rafa me cuidaba y fumábamos mota como si nunca hubiéramos visto el sol.

El pobre hombre perdió a toda su familia en un accidente automovilistico cuando tenia doce años o quizás tenia veintitrés, no recuerdo. Él estaba en la escuela, seguramente sacando malas calificaciones, cuando el director fue por él acompañado por unos tíos, lo demás es historia. Según los rumores, era un niño que amaba al mundo y que se encerraba a pintar en su cueva hasta el amanecer. Era de esos chámacos que tomaban café para honrar a sus escritores favoritos como Karl Popper y O’Bannon.

En realidad cuando más lo amaba menos pensaba en él. Nunca me importó su pasado, nunca razonaba por mi misma y menos pensaba en su bien estar, así que no lo amé realmente. Solo lo quería poseer y gracias a Diosito que la vida me mentó la madre para darme cuenta que hasta una persona dañina es mejor para Rafa, mejor que una niña queriendo llenar hoyos con sueños vacíos. A final de cuentas ambos partidos jugaban ajedrez y a lado del caos había un reloj derretido colgando sobre un perro aburrido.

Nunca dejó que nadie se acercara a su alma… y yo nunca fui leal a nadie. Puedo decir (sin orgullo) que en algún momento estuve cerca de su alma, en ese entonces no era lo que quería aunque irónicamente era lo que mas deseaba. Ahora si que aprecio la amistad que me dio y su tiempo como colega de trabajo, siento que aprendimos mucho del uno al otro aunque ni eso pudimos apreciar en esa época. YO fui una egoísta y por dolor y por soberbia le di la espalda cuando mas me necesitaba como amiga.

No fui a su boda. Ambos me invitaron. No fui.

De la nada se casó con una mujer… auto destructiva, como él. Se drogaban en la cama y cogían como perros. La única diferencia entre ella y yo era la edad. La edad hace la gente muy atractiva. Una mujer con experiencia atrae a hombres perdidos. Una mujer buena atrae a hombres perdidos. Una ninfa atrae a hombres de mentalidad de un pollo. Cuál es peor? No tengo el tiempo para saber.

Bueno, a lo que voy es que me siento de la chingada por haber sido tan ciega, por haber pensando que era posible calmar a un ser humano y aliviarlo de su dolor cuando en realidad lo único que podría calmarlo era él mismo. Es un gran pintor que se limita mucho. Usa mucho negro, mucho gris y demasiado amarillo. Cansa. Su esposa es agresiva pero lo ama por quien es.

La verdad me ha dejado de importar todo eso desde que conocí a Marcos, mi compañero de alma. Soulmate.

El otro día me sentía muy mal, en verdad ya iban muchos días donde me sentía mal. Marcos me llevó al hospital y el doctor analizó mi pulso con sus dedo fríos y luego examinó mis ojos con una herramienta de metal. Me hizo unas preguntas muy difíciles de contestar pero lo hice con certeza para no demostrar inseguridad ante el hombre. Fueron preguntas incómodas, preguntas que determinan como esta uno de salud mental y física. Fui honesta, fui leal a mi salud, fui leal a mi familia. Pues, pues, pues, pues, pues, pues, pues, pues, pues, pues, el doctor dijo que tengo problemas de ansiedad que por eso sufro tanto físicamente, tengo estrés elevado y me van a llegar los resultados de sangre pasado mañana. No estoy nerviosa tengo a mi familia. Todo estará bien.

Pero, no quiero hablar de eso porque es bonito estar vivo; tengo que apreciar todo a mi alrededor. Ahora tengo la medicina en mi bolso que recién me prescribió el Dr. No es para siempre, solo es para las “aveces”. Mi marido es un amor enorme, tremendo el chulo. Él también era un hombre perdido cuando era joven pero gracias a Dios que se encontró con la ayuda de los años, con la tremenda ayuda de la experiencia.

Mi madre va ayudar a Marcos a cuidar los nenes. Son muy chiquillos pero presienten lo que me pasa, salieron a su madre; igual de sensibles a todo lo que les rodea. Eso me aterra, no quiero que sufran. Que problemas tan indiferentes tenemos todos, justo lo que Marcos y yo temíamos cuando eramos mas jóvenes.
Jan 11 2013
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Tengo muy claro que tengo trece, quince, o quizás mil cosas que hacer hoy. Lo unico que logro hacer con discrecion es ir al baño para poder hecharme agua helada. No alivia el dolor. Me pico los ojos con una cuchara fria para ver si baja la calentura de mis mejillas. Se siente bien. Marcos me va ayudar.

Hoy desperté con un dolor agudo justo debajo de mis ojos. Marcos no sabe que es lo que me pasa. Esto me asusta pero al mismo tiempo muy adentro de mi hay una vocecita que dice “Que bueno, baboso, para que la aprecies mas.” Esa voz maligna me ha perseguido a partir de los 15 años y ha logrado llenarme de dolores físicos durante el transcurso de mi vida como adolescente y mujer precoz. Tal vez por eso me siento tan mal esta mañana. It’s catching up to me. Tantos años de ser tan negativa, tantos años de desearle mal a todos mis conocidos (y hasta a mi propio padre), y tanta basura que he vomitado encima de mis hijos sobre nuestros vecinos y sus hijas groseras. Pero, se siente bien en esos momentos poder hablar y hablar porque por lo menos se que hablo la verdad. La verdad es casi siempre horrenda. Y la verdad es que estamos rodeados de gente muy indiferente, gente poco considerada, absurda y hasta aburrida. Que aburridos son todos. Que amarga me están haciendo.

Gracias a Diosito que cuando estaba embarazada por primera vez, Marcos y yo nos aislamos del mundo. Dejamos el estudio y nos fuimos a una isla. Tomábamos agua de coco, el sol nos cubría de pie a cabeza y sus ojos brillaban con tanta felicidad color marrón…son momentos como esos que yo no hablaba mierda porque estábamos lejos de toda la magia negra urbana. Marcos me acariciaba la espalda dentro del mosquitero, los insectos nos cantaban en las noches y yo no hablaba. Era libre.

Una de las noches en nuestra isla, realizamos que teníamos miedo. Nos abrazábamos, nos reíamos y Marcos de vez en cuando temblaba; no queríamos que nuestro hijo conociera la gente indiferente. “Nuestro nene va a nacer. No quiero que llegue este momento.” Le confesaba a mi esposo por décima vez cuando nos enteramos por parte de las patadotas que daba el bebe, que ya casi era hora de dar luz.

No quería que saliera de mi porque temía que me iba convertir en una viejita amarga, no quería que el nene se llevara con el nuestra familia. “No vez? Es un paso mas cerca a que me haga viuda. Quiero morir contigo, con el nene dentro de mi, congelar el tiempo. Esto es lo que realmente somos, somos tres, somos uno.” Llorábamos durante las noches húmedas porque sabíamos bien que algún día nuestro amor iba devorar a nuestros vecinos y sobre todo a nosotros mismos.

Si cuando era soltera siempre estaba a la defensiva, yo podía oler a los malos de inmediato…y ahora que soy madre y esposa mas que nunca seré una perra. Yo mataría por el bien de Marcos y los nenes con mi aliento de queso y todo lo que viene por encima.

…Desafortunadamente, uno no puede vivir sobre islas o aislados para siempre. Esto me costaba mucho trabajo aceptar. Me dolia dejar ir a la niña para que pudiera salir mi hijo. Marcos y yo nos dimos cuenta que uno se vuelve loco estando en un ambiente con tan solo el viento como un vecino, sin nadie quien olfatear. Uno se vuelve aun mas enfermo y paranoico. Marcos estaba bien todo el tiempo debo confesar que a mi hombre no le afecta nada pero hasta su consejo fue que con un hijo uno tiene que socializar para avanzar. Ten en cuenta que socializar no es venderse a un publico ajeno como las pendejadas de Titter donde uno se saluda cuando en verdad es una suplica por ser aceptado y demostrar quien es el mas chingón. Es la cosa mas absurda del mundo, mejor marquen me para saludarme, hijos de su pu.

Así es como pasamos nuestro tiempo durante los 9 meses de embarazo, componíamos, escribimos libros y pintábamos sobre nuestros cuerpos… It was nice I must admit.

Cuando tuvimos al nene (nació saludable y hasta regordete el hermoso), regresamos al mundo real y nos dimos cuenta que olvidamos como interactuar con la gente, convirtiendo me en una broma estelar para mis tías y primas. Mi rencor fue creciendo de nuevo. Terminé teniendo le rencor a Marcos. Pero todo esto ya no tiene importancia porque mi cabeza estalla. Mis ojos están tristes y mi corazón me ruega a que deje ir mi duelo.

Tantos recuerdos, ay diosito. Tantos recuerdos y tan poco tiempo para poder expresar el amor que le tengo a mi familia. Los aprecio tanto…hoy decido, elijo a mi familia mas que a mis propios demonios.

Debo irme, Marcos me va llevar al hospital. Espero que todo este bien.
Jan 09 2013
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Intentar reconocer algo feo de uno mismo es mas fácil que ver una película aburrida. Anoche vi la película mas aburrida del mundo. Trataba sobre una mano pachona que no hacia nada mas que asustar a los nenes que estaban en la cama conmigo y Marcos. Era mas fascinante ver sus rostros suaves cubiertos en lagrimas que ver esa pinche mano desquiciada en la pantalla. Comíamos queso, mi esposo y yo. Los nenes solo lloraban. “Pues, conio, quita eso, esposo mío para que dejen de chillar los mariconcitos.” Le dije a Marcos medio dormida con un bostezo apunto de salirme, aliento de queso. “Mujer, que aliento tan pesado tienes, mi chucho puchi.” Me exclamo con una sonrisa en la cara Marcos. Los nenes pararon de llorar y se pusieron de acuerdo con su Papi. “Si, Mami, deja de comer tanto queso. Mejor cuidame de la mano pachona.” Yo me reía un tanto avergonzada. Pero si, que película tan mas tonta.





My mother is good. Not that I do when ... I do not know. I hope not to lose her again. Today I got the results of blood. I hope not to lose my children when they learn that my body is destroying self. The hematocrit and hemoglobin testing me to see your eyes and kiss. My mother is good and my son sends them to say hello. It is the largest and gives me light. That love so bright.

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Jan 21 2013
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Aside Uncategorized

Seven faces. It's that I have. Really all are ... boring, if you compare with the thousands of faces that have our God. I'm sure all my faces have ever cried innermost least a deep sea is endless, extremely salty. Some faces mine have eaten ice cream without stopping, without sharing; alone.

God, I have itching on my face.

Say you have laughed about two but only one is real, which is a pit stop. I fear that this face has been seen by my father to die. The night tells me that face has been seen by my husband's mother to die, no one else.

Neither I have seen it, sometimes I have dreams and I feel just this thing I have is probably what defines me. I confess that I have to be afraid of something evil.

When I sing to my kids at night you hear the waves from that thing from time to time, especially when we look at the stars, all lying on the bed, covered with fresh linens and quiet darkness.

Earlier in my childhood, my mom used to sing at night as well. From her I learned that it came from. We sang ballads about death and love. That lulled us as we did tickle on the back. Want.

Now me and my brothers are separated, we are strangers. A brother abusing my long distance and I abuse denial. One of my most requested seven faces for me. Denial. It's that I do not end up with anyone. Life is too short. It's a joke, right? Also my mother said that ... that life is a cruel joke.

That means our sea staff fear? I do not accept our profound evil in response. I will not mind having a tsunami. Breath and open my mouth. Breath of cheese; continues. I'm back to reality. The sun is almost here.

All the planets and all the galaxies that exist are a collection of my husband. Do not want to die without him. I will not.
Jan 20 2013
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Pink Heart, Octopus Kool Aid
Little DancersAll the dancers in the city
Dance to the center;
The inner middle
Oh, have I made mistake?
Have I dug through the earth,
In the bottom of the eye?
Have I made a big lie ...
Out of myself?
Out of myself?
I do not know what you got
But, I see who you are
My pink heart attack misses you so bad
Have I made a mistake?
Have I dug through the earth
Just to find out ... you took me out of myself.
Jan 18 2013
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Rafael.

Before I got married I was madly in love with a boy hopelessly disjointed and wild. My goal in this crucial moment of my growth (from girl to woman) was heal with just my eyes. That of course, was a total failure. I was very selfish to think that was possible. Apart from all the obvious, when a man is self-destructive it is not possible that he can appreciate the medicinal essence of another person, whether or himself could appreciate. Oh, as I was very young and very arrogant also add to understand another person. So I was destroying myself with the course of time, I locked myself in my room, drunk and stiff, to mourn for hours. This happened when he performed regularly at night, alone and distraught, he denied not only my eyes that gave him (when we worked in the community study on the main street of San Diego) but it made the stupid and the ignorant be sought , unleashing my lust or love or who knows what was (inattention, perphaps?). Worse, pretended not to notice my childhood love you had so vigorously. That we were co-workers for a long period. Actually, it was an ordeal that I imposed on myself. Of course, I can never say that he acted wrong with me. It was a big 'brother' and never played with my feelings, although there were a few moments where the suspense was killing me and I suspect that at the beginning of my love for our friendship he entertained when he drank alcohol. Occasionally, Rafa took care of me and smoked pot as if we had never seen the sun.

The poor man lost his entire family in a car accident when I was twelve or maybe I was twenty, I forget. He was in school, probably getting bad grades, when the director was accompanied by him by an aunt and uncle, the rest is history. Rumor was a boy who loved the world and shut himself in his cave painting until dawn. Was one of those kids who drank coffee to honor their favorite writers as Karl Popper and O'Bannon.

Actually the more I loved him less thought of him. I never cared about his past, never argued for myself and less thought about his well being, so I do not really loved. Just wanted to own and through that life Diosito mother creased me to realize that even a harmful person is better for Rafa, better than a girl wanting to fill holes with empty dreams. Ultimately both parties played chess and chaos side had melted a clock hanging on a bored dog.

Never let anyone get close to your soul ... and I was never loyal to anyone. I can say (without pride) that at some point I was close to his soul, then was not what I wanted but ironically was what he wanted most. Now if I appreciate the friendship that gave me their time and work colleague, I feel that we learned a lot from each other but even that we saw at the time. I was a selfish and arrogant pain and I turned my back when I needed more as a friend.

I did not go to her wedding. They invited me. I was not.

Out of nowhere, he married a woman ... self destructive, like him. They drugged in bed and caught as dogs. The only difference between her and me was age. Age makes people attractive. An experienced woman attracts men lost. A good woman attracts men lost. A nymph attracts men mentality of a chicken. Which is worse? I have no time to learn.

Well, my point is that I feel like shit for being so blind to have thinking it might calm a human being and relieve your pain when in fact the only thing that could calm him was himself. It's a great painter who greatly limits. Use lots of black, gray and too much yellow. Tires. His wife is aggressive but loves him for who he is.

Actually I have ceased to matter all that since I met Mark, my soul mate. Soulmate.

The other day I was miserable, and indeed were many days where I felt bad. Mark took me to the hospital and the doctor examined my pulse with his cold finger and then examined my eyes with a metal tool. I made some very difficult questions to answer but I did not show with certainty to uncertainty before man. They were uncomfortable questions, questions that determine how this one of mental and physical health. I was honest, I was loyal to my health, I was loyal to my family. Well, because, because, because, because, because, because, because, because, because, the doctor said I have anxiety problems that I suffer so much physically, I have high stress and I will get the results of blood after tomorrow. I'm nervous I have my family. All will be well.

But I do not want to talk about it because it's nice to be alive, I have to appreciate everything around me. Now I have the medicine in my bag just prescribed me Dr. No is forever, only for "sometimes". My husband is a huge love, tremendous pimp. He also was a lost man when he was young but thank God that was with the help of the years, with the tremendous help of experience.

My mother will help the kids to care Marcos. They are very kids but they sense what happens to me, went to his mother equally sensitive to everything around them. That scares me, I do not want to suffer. So indifferent that we all have problems, just what Mark and I feared when we were younger.
Jan November 2013
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I have very clear that I have thirteen, fifteen, or perhaps a thousand things to do today. All you get to do it with discretion to potty hecharme ice water. It relieves pain. I pick the eyes with a cold spoon to see if the fever down my cheeks. It feels good. Mark will help me.

Today I woke up with a sharp pain just below my eyes. Mark does not know that is what I get. This scares me but at the same time deep inside me there is a little voice that says "Good, slimy, so that you appreciate more." That evil voice has haunted me since age 15 and has managed to fill my physical pain during Throughout my life as a teenager and female ejaculation. Maybe that's why I feel so bad this morning. It's catching up to me. So many years of being so negative, so many years of wishing evil to everyone I know (and even my own father), and so much garbage that I vomited up my children about our neighbors and their daughters rude. But, it feels good at the time to talk and talk because at least I know I speak the truth. The truth is almost always horrendous. And the truth is that we are surrounded by people very indifferent, inconsiderate people, absurd and even boring. They are all boring. They are making me bitter.

Thanks to dear God that when I was pregnant for the first time, Mark and I were off from the world. We left the studio and went to an island. We drank coconut water, sun covered us from head to toe and his eyes shone with happiness so brown ... moments like these that I was not talking shit because we were far from any urban black magic. Mark stroked me back into the net, we were singing insects at night and I did not speak. He was free.

One evening on our island, we realized that we were afraid. We hugged, laughed and Marcos shaking occasionally, we did not want our son to know the indifferent people. "Our baby will be born. I do not want that time comes. "He confessed to my husband for the tenth time when we found out by the patadotas giving the baby, that it was almost time to give birth.

I did not want to leave me because I feared that I would become a bitter old woman, did not want the baby will take with our family. "No time? It is a step closer to make me a widow. I want to die with you, with the baby inside me, freeze time. This is what we really are, we are three, we are one. "We cried during humid night because we knew well that someday our love would devour all our neighbors and ourselves.

If I was single when he was always on the defensive, I could smell the bad guys away ... and now I'm a mother and wife but I will never be a bitch. I would kill for the sake of Mark and the kids with my breath of cheese and all that comes over.

... Unfortunately, one can not live on islands or isolated forever. This was very hard for me to accept. It hurt me to let go of the girl so she could leave my son. Mark and I realized that one goes crazy being in an environment with only the wind as a neighbor, no one to sniff. You become even more sick and paranoid. Marcos was good all the time I must confess that my man is not affected by anything but his advice was that until a child you have to socialize to advance. Note that socializing is not sold to a foreign audience as the bullshit of Titter where one is greeted when in truth is a plea for acceptance and prove who is the most bitchen. It's the most absurd thing in the world, best mark to greet me, children of his pu.

This is how we spend our time during the nine months of pregnancy, we composed, wrote books and we painted on our bodies ... It was nice I must admit.

When we had the baby (born healthy and plump up the beautiful), we return to the real world and realized that we forgot how to interact with people, making me a joke badge for my aunts and cousins. My anger was growing again. I ended up having a grudge against Marcos. But all this does not matter anymore because my head explodes. My eyes are sad and my heart begs me to let go of my grief.

So many memories, oh dear God. So many memories, so little time to express the love I have for my family. I appreciate so much ... today I decide, I choose my family more than my own demons.

I must go, I will take Mark to the hospital. Hope all is well.
Jan September 2013
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Try something ugly recognize oneself is easier to do a boring movie. Last night saw the world's most boring film. Pachona dealt a hand that did nothing more than scare the kids who were in bed with me and Mark. It was more exciting to see their faces covered in soft tears I see that damn crazy hand on the screen. We ate cheese, my husband and me. The kids just cried. "Well, conio, removes it, my husband yelling to stop the mariconcitos." I told Mark, yawning sleepily about to get out, breath of cheese. "Woman, you have breath so heavy, my pooch puchi." I exclaimed with a smile on his face Marcos. The kids stopped to mourn and agreed with her Daddy. "Yes, Mommy, stop eating so much cheese. Best Pachona save me from the hand. "I laughed a little embarrassed. But if that film as more silly. Teri Gender Bender lyrics



#2 iamisandisnt

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Posted 29 January 2013 - 05:21 PM

I don't like to pry but her lyrics are a mind-fuck for me and it's interesting to see...

I assume this is really her because of the photo and the lyrics but who knows? Is this even worth posting?

#3 Lantros

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Posted 29 January 2013 - 07:40 PM

I assume this is really her because of the photo and the lyrics but who knows? Is this even worth posting?


Its seems you thought it is worth. That all that counts.

I love her lyrics, i love her stage presence and her strong voice. So much energy on stage.

PS @all: Pls. if you don´t like her for whatever reason. Its okay, simply don´t post here. ( I know this will not happen. But it was worth a try)

#4 iorch82

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Posted 29 January 2013 - 08:08 PM

As per these entries she's married with a kid? seriously?

Lot's of pain and torment...wow...

#5 xpgno

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Posted 29 January 2013 - 11:45 PM

As per these entries she's married with a kid? seriously?

Lot's of pain and torment...wow...

Poor translation + fiction does not an accurate representation make.

#6 brucef

brucef

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Posted 03 September 2020 - 06:18 PM

Encontrar esto de Teri, es realmente un tesoro para mí aparte de ser muy desvalorado. Lo recomiendo






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