And it all ends in the most disparate chatter, the most idiotic clichés in which everyone pretends to believe, like “men are all the same”, which is the female version of: “They’re all Bi****s”

And everyone ends up with a few drinks, then we are content to be with those we don’t care about, when instead the people who don’t shit anymore will be somewhere swallowing hot sperm.

That’s okay, isn’t it?

I’m tired of all this bullshit, but they keep bombarding me, what should I do? There are still people convinced in 2022 that there are superiority and inferiority and then they demand equality.

If you think women are superior to men, stay away from me and vice versa, please, I’m feeling like throwing up.

I can’t stand anymore

do we have to compete? Because I don’t care. Do women also want to show who has it bigger?

I am in this world of hypocrites, of traitors.

I am in a world where someone has mocked me that I believe in love, then it is perched for years on the shoulder of someone who has fallen in love, hoping to be together one day.

And then losing friendships and all.

That’s okay, isn’t it?

Then maybe I would have done it too, but always wanting to remain friends, I who can be friends of women, breaking down other clichés, such as “between man and woman there can be no friendship”.

I say, isn’t it that you are incapable?

Like you meet two girls, tell me where the fuck is it written that you must be interested.

I am still convinced that I can be a friend of that woman who has now disappeared, as she herself said, hoping that we could return to the naturalness of a friendship, without second interests of any kind.

Yes, but the naturalness wasn’t gone. A bit like Juve, she hadn’t stopped winning.

But that’s okay.

 I can be friends with anyone, because I still have so much affection and love to give, that I sometimes think that God wanted to curse me.

Those who say they don’t want relationships, and they say: “make them smell it …” and things like that, I think they are the first to want a love as big as the one I have wanted since I was a kid.

But they prefer the illusory certainties of clichés, thinking they don’t suffer, or I don’t know what.

That’s okay, isn’t it?

I don’t know about you, but I dissociate from this.

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