Valiendo Callampa
  • Reads 31
  • Votes 2
  • Parts 3
  • Time 13m
  • Reads 31
  • Votes 2
  • Parts 3
  • Time 13m
Ongoing, First published Aug 01, 2017
¿No les ha pasado que se ponen a pensar en todo lo que les ha paso y les dan ganas de mandar todo a la mierda? Bueno, esa wea a mi me pasa diariamente, 24/7. Ganas de mandar a todo y todxs a la chucha.
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I didn't ask to be born into this world, none of us did but we make the best of it. I'm a twenty-five year old single man. Why you may ask? Because I've seen what love can do to a person. It can destroy them. My parent's are amazing but I can still remember the time's my father threatened to kill my mother, left us due to his mental illness. Besides who needs one main women when I can have a different one under me every night, money to blow and fast cars. I'm just enjoying my time until I take my Papes place at the throne. Most nights are spent living it up with my cousins who are my only friends. However there is the one girl that has caught my eye and I don't know why. I first spotted her at a random coffee house I stepped into. Usually I'm very talkative especially when I'm trying to snag a chic but I couldn't utter a word to her. I barely managed to place my order. Now, I find myself going out of my way to stop by that coffee shop everyday. It doesn't matter that it's out of my way. The only thing that matters is that I see her. I knew I could take her if I really wanted to but I can't make myself to do it. She sees me enter and shoots me that amazing smile and prepares my order without even asking what I want, she knows. She'll offer a greeting but all I can do is nod my head. She makes me lose my word's. Deep in my mind I wonder if she could be the one that could change my mind on love and that scares me. For now I'm satisfied at seeing her for the few minutes it takes to get my coffee. Besides I'm a killer, a future mob king and she's this delicate flower that wouldn't understand my world. It's best to cut my loses and move on. If only I knew her name..
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He always assumes I want money. That money can replace my desire for a mother, for a female figure who will guide me through the darkness. All he can provide is money. He assumes that because I use the money, that I'm happy, that I don't spend night hunched over my toilet bowl physically sick to my stomach with the guilt of killing my mother. He assumes that because I have friends, that the smile on my face is genuine. That because I smile and confidently stride out of my room in a bikini, that I love myself and the way I look. He assumes everything about me, because he doesn't know me. I'm his daughter, and with the simple fact, he assumes that by just looking at me he knows my every thought. Does he know of the blood I spill when I have no other method of coping? Does he know of the times I sit and ponder about what it would be like to go through death? Does he know that when he leaves for work, I cry myself to sleep and wish for a mother? Does he know that I could care less about him? I hate him. But he loves me. Does he know, that through all this mess, I just want a mother. Because according to Disney, mother knows best?