everytime i'm writing, i'm not thinking, everything begins with some image, maybe a kiss, maybe a face, maybe some memory, maybe a obsessive dream, something repetitive, something new, something i saw, something i lived, something i wanted and loved to jump into, something i wanted and hated to taste, something i never did, or did with the wrong person, nothing is wrong, everything has its meaning, or we create a meaning...

 all begins with images. before the words, there is some image. i imagine simple things without dialogs. sometimes. sometimes. sometimes i just want to disappear. and sometimes i just want, i just need, to take off my clothes.

 i love mirrors. in the past, i loved me body, my skin, i used to love to be naked, watching myself. maybe it was not normal, but i didn't care. now i don't like my body. now i don't like my hair. i don't like what i see now. i know i'm selfish. i know i'm expensive. i know i'm difficult to live together. but isn't it better then to be something i hate in me and love in others? i'm talking about submission. yes. don't make me live according your ideas and laws. i hate this. i have my own dreams. and one of them is...

 i was in doubt. i was asking myself. lots of things. i never felt guilty before that moment. when i looked myself in the mirror. and what i saw was so, so, do you understand me? do you see what i'm talking about? what do you see when you look in my eyes? you told me i believe in open relationships because i fell what people want. to betray and never be betrayed. you told me i'm very sensible. i don't know. i like to have fun. but maybe you're a little bit right. i don't know. i don't like to be the owner of nobody. i never wanted to. but if i could trust someone maybe i could try to belong that one.

 since i was a child, during my whole life, to choose between two things is always a problem. i want more then one, i want two, three, five things. at the same time. sometimes i prefer just one, but i also like the others. it happens when i go out to buy something, something like clothes, or anything. it also happens with people. why do you think i'm sensible? why do you show me other ways to see myself? you're confusing me.

 it's true that i always dreamed about love. but i had fantasies. lots of different fantasies. and it's difficult to find everything in just one person. i want passion. i want silence. i want big fights. i want calm words. i want to do everything could pass through my mind. i want someone who put me in the right way. does it exist? i want to change because of someone. i want to be myself.