I scrolled the dash for the first time after a while and brrrr, cheap feminism is even worse than no feminism, be aware.
In the last week I biked every day at least 15 km and I slept so good in the night, with anyone, it didn’t matter while it usually matters a lot, yesterday I even fell asleep at a client’a place. I’m leaving for the festival in one hour and be back in the beginning of August.
Need to solve my latest sex issue, hope it won’t take 7 years like the last time.
22 anni e ancora alle 4 di mattina in bicicletta a cantare i Set Your Goals fortissimo, sobria. Se avessero 4 voci invece che 2 credo che le riuscirei comunque a riprodurle tutte simultaneamente.(You just can’t hide your true self)
Me smoking personals naked on clients’ balconies
Consider that I used to smoke 15 cigarettes a day and now I smoke 0, means that I smoke 15 joints a day probably. If I’m partying there’s gonna be a joint going around every 20 minutes and I usually spend 6-8 hours in a raw in clubs so make your calculations because I don’t wanna think about it, ahah.
I wish I would look at vaginas the same way I look at penises: I don’t give a shit about how it appears, the important thing is whether it feels nice.
I wish I would look at girls the same way I look at boys.
Tomorrow I’m meeting Mermaid after a week and I missed him so much, I wish I could just all asleep and wake up tomorrow when I’ll be hugging him. As a child I would use this technique when my grandparents were coming to visit me from the South, I had figured out that time passed more quickly when I was asleep and I used to go to bed the afternoon before and only wake up when I would hear their voices.
I loved my grandparents so much, they used to live next door and I was spending almost all my time with them but my mother one day took me from my bed while half asleep and brought me 1000 km far from them and we never went back for 6 years. This is the only one thing in my life that I consider a trauma, I think I’ll never fully get over the pain I felt and the fear that grew inside me. No one was caring about it at all, my dad used to get incredibly mad when I would cry because I missed them, he was like “They’re not your parents, if they were your parents I could understand this whining but as they’re not this is called overreacting, there are kids that are orphan and you should be glad that I’m here and stop this”. He would even get mad when I missed my mom, he was like “She doesn’t do anything for you, I’m the one who takes care of you and pays for everything, this is ridiculous!” and stuff like that, as if the amount of love to give had to be calculated based on the amount of money and time a certain person dedicates to you.
Another thing Nic and I always remind each other is that once you realize that parents are just people, it’s funny.