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Alas

Estoy cansada. Ya no quiero ir a la escuela y enfrentar esas caras hipocritas. Ya no quiero ver como se dicen ‘mis amigos’ y me dan puñaladas por la espalda. Ya no quiero ver como se critican y juzgan entre ellos. Ya no quiero sentirme tan sola y diferente.
Quiero irme a Paris. Quiero insipirarme en esas calles. Quiero eacribir un libro y vivir de mis letras. Quiero enamorarme de un hermoso frances, que me cautive no solo los ojos pero tambien el alma. Quiero no volver jamas. Quiero olvidar todo lo que deje aqui.
Quiero ser libre. Quiero alas para poder volar.

Happy people

I hate seeing people being happy cuz I’m miserable. It annoys me, why would you eat infront of a homeless hungry man?
Though, when you are happy i don’t feel annoyed nor jealous. I feel really happy for you, so proud. And somehow seeing you happy gives me hope to find my own, too.

If you want to write, if you want to create, you must be the most sublime fool that God ever turned out and sent rambling. You must write every single day of your life. You must read dreadful dumb books and glorious books, and let them wrestle in beautiful fights inside your head, vulgar one moment, brilliant the next. You must lurk in libraries and climb the stacks like ladders to sniff books like perfumes and wear books like hats upon your crazy heads. I wish you a wrestling match with your Creative Muse that will last a lifetime. I wish craziness and foolishness and madness upon you. May you live with hysteria, and out of it make fine stories — science fiction or otherwise. Which finally means, may you be in love every day for the next 20,000 days. And out of that love, remake a world.
Ray Bradbury (via theselittlewondersstillremain)
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