Milena Velba Pirate Pic A lonely bird

A friend ratted me looking for people to work for a week in an exhibition on internet and new technologies. I have appeared there with a smile that hid all of my insecurities and have been in a call to determine yes or no. And I went so quiet that I went straight to the fabric store to buy mediometro white felt and red felt otherwise. There were so many beautiful fabrics that could not fail to make notes in my book, if one day I can buy them all and go crazy with polka dots and ships and stars and tulle.

Sewing is something you can do alone, and I like that. The other day I was in Frigiliana and I found a lovely village, where signs of almost all stores are mad

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des and those are two things very bad, more the former than the latter. In fact, I think the latter is a consequence of the first and so I may strive to be first because of the latter. Conclusion: I'm not going anywhere because I'm stupid. Spirals of life.

"We are trapped in a spiral of ridiculous," Elena told him on Sunday. And it always involved in situations just as stupid. Of course everything is relative. The seamstress had a parrot on the shelf of his shop, the man shouted market their offerings without rest for three minutes cientoochenta seconds equal to the postman always check the box "absent" in the certificate without bothering to ring the bell. The word "normal" does not resolve nada.

begin to assume that I am a person unable to communicate. All I am full of thoughts, feelings and desires scattered when they try out, become a shapeless mass and unintelligible to anyone who is listening to me. So I opt for the easy path of failure and return to the idea of going out with a slate on which to write everything in an orderly manner, with dashes, periods, commas, and, of course, tildes. Or fall into a deep amnesia and I communicate through a xylophone. I have not decided yet.

If there is something that unnerves me interrupt me when I write my frustrations with the entire cyberspace without shame. And is about to happen.

I'm going to sew for anyone.

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When I started writing this journal I decided to do without accents, because sometimes, it gets me silly and replaces them with signs that make it very uncomfortable to read. But enough. That one you do not is the same as a you, nor what is the same as a that. Hombreporfavor. I rebel.

My mood has turned down a few tenths, but nothing that can not cope with in a dignified manner. Migraine spend their holidays in my head. Everyone asks me what I do. Ronaldo and Daniela Ciccarelli separate. Uff.

Last week, my father was taking advantage of things to do in Cadiz, got a couple of things in my backpack and gave it a good surprise for my grandmother who, when he saw me at the door miniequipaje in hand, almost bursts outI understand what the Beatles, as Take That and, with a little effort, even as the deified Bisbal, but see a crowd of girls crying SantaJustaKlan too.

can not think when you have lightning and thunder in his head. Mr. Sandman, bring me an Espidifen.

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It annoys me a little, at the last minute, I will change what Portonovo by Polar, a lesser evil to the end of the day. What if I become a bit tocanarices was that the singer approaches a respectable Souvenir asking: "Know ye here in Malaga Souvenir"?. No, miss, to me is that I have taken the town in a caravan by the grace of our Most Holy City, with a taste that I was dancing pasodobles! And yet the TV signal came last week, but hey, I end up not getting used.

worth, other than the last hitazo of the season, but in Malaga there is also musical culture and have knowledge of minority groups. And if the auditorium was almost filled was for something. Man now. And