I was wrong

When I have typed that I had nothing left to say. Life has proven exactly this. Three hours later I a still in the cafe, typing a quick last entry, all this due to have seen him. And as I am mentioning "him" some people could think that I am talking about my stalker, who I also say that has been the love of my life. Or that he is... or whatever... and nevermind about him. This is not about HIM, but about "him".

In this cafe, where I usually come on Sundays, works a ver handsme male. He is working here at least for a month. His face is very sweet and I also like the way he looks at me. It is rather a strange thing to be typing about, but there is something in this male, that makes me think on how good it would be to make him my next disposable male. In tmes, I would make a "movie" within my mind on dating him, having somewhat of a relationship with him and blah, blah, blah... nowadays, there is ver few love left in me, what makes me think on men, if not as friends, as disposable sexual toys. Perhaps this is a wrong way of seing them. Perhaps, this a very right way of surviving. I do live, but to live, we need to survive, ma it be physically, mentally ir in any other possible way that we might live and need to survive.

And in the mean time and n the mean space, when and where there are nothingnleft for secres,  would type an entry on what we could do. On wha we would do. Maybe, I would use experieces from other lovers of mine to imagine what would we do. Maybe,  would use simply my imagination. And then, nothing more would be wrong. And then, no more reasons to keep hdng my sexuality.

There is no right or wrng when it comes to love.

Love to love.

Love to sex.

Love to life.

Love...

To...

Freedom!!!

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