I recently wrote a few more things which were fictional, about cigarette numbers and counting and a dream with a yellow flower.
I was sort of curious about some stuff and wanted to see if I could discern anything but I'm not going to figure anything out and my son is fine, so I don't even care anymore.
I did have the dream, but it wasn't yellow. It was purple and I just changed the color, out of curiosity if I'd have dirty looks again.
Also, as for Alvaro, I wrote too much. I talked to him briefly and that was it. I wrote more my thoughts than what was actual conversation.
How it is is private, and I am single, period, and have only one love of my life and that's my son.
As for anything else in my life or anyone else, all I want is for there to be good things for everybody. I want to write about my son and why I don't need to blog anymore.