Intolerancia a la lactosa.

Anoche me mordí demasiado las uñas. Ahora duelen. ¿nervios? ¿hiperactivismo? ¿hambre?

Suceden cosas pero alrededor de un metro cuadrado de mí no ocurre nada. Estoy atrapada en una piscina de bolas de colorines de la que tampoco estoy muy segura de querer salir, porque me gustan las bolas y me gustan los colorines.

Algunos todavía queremos pensar que existe.





"Don't wait around for love
You're not what he's thinking of
When he's with the other girl

Don't bother waiting up cause he
He's not where he's supposed to be
When he's with the other girl
When he's with the other girl

You, you were right
I was wrong,
Like I always am
And you always are

You were right
And I was wrong,
Like I always am
And you always are

Don't have much to say right now
Cause I'm trying to figure out
Why he's with the other girl

Life is not a fairytale
They will send him straight to jail
Where he'll die and go to hell
With the other girl
With the other girl

You, you were right
I was wrong,
Like I always am
And you always are

You were right
I was wrong,
Like I always am
And you always are

You, you were right
I was wrong,
Like I always am
And you always are

You were right
I was wrong,
Like I always am
And you always are"