Based on real sobytiyah
_____________________________________________________________________________
04 Feb 2013
my name is Rita, and I am a woman.
My life is perfect. Me in my forties, but I'm still in demand by men. I know I'm very sexual and insatiable. Because I have a lot of fans.
Serious relationship I don't need. At least with those I know (laughs out loud).
Yes, I have children, but I don't want to talk about them. These ungrateful bastards don't deserve our attention. Leave them to it.
What I'd like? I would like to learn to sing like an Opera singer. I also dream to live in Africa, Safari there wild tribes and such.
And to you I came to you for having saved me from the nightmares that I dream every night. You can do that? You are sufficiently qualified? I you rekomendovali...
_____________________________________________________________________________
Feb 20, 2013
my name is Rita, and I am the woman that nobody likes.
I made alone. I'm crushed. Everyone abandoned me.
Yesterday, on the holiday, my eldest daughter was a scandal. I don't understand, how did she do it to me?! How could she say that to me?! That I ruined her evening!!
I wholeheartedly to her. So many things I did for her that day! And no gratitude! How could I be so wrong in it! Oh the horror!
What?! What do you mean! That's my daughter! How can I do this?! No, no it seemed to you.
Why aren't we talking about my nightmares?! You treat me or not!? Also a psychologist.
All you have to do samoi...
_____________________________________________________________________________
Feb 27, 2013
my name is Rita, and I am a woman who is tired.
What's happening to me? I am constantly crying.
My children left me. They don't want to talk to me. And the son I was told that I am an actress Pogorely theater and that to take any more of my performances he did not intend.
Is this what I deserve? Is this what I wanted?
Yes, you are right, this is my doing. This is the way I conduct myself. Be himself satisfied with the performance.
maybe I expect too much from people. I too believe them. I'm gullible, and they betray.
What? No? Why? Well, why do you say it! It's cruel! Shut up, you shut up!!
I do not know another way... one-man show, my role is my life. And besides anything else I'm not. I'm empty.
Remember the beautiful box I was given by my mother as a child. A gift from his master's shoulder. I've kept it like the most precious thing in the world, so feared, even in her to put something in order not to violate her beauty. Now this is a box somewhere in the closet, I don't even know where. But I do know that it is still empty.
Empty and beautiful. This box is me.
_____________________________________________________________________________
12 March 2013
my name is Rita, and I'm a woman who hates his mother.
She is a monster. She ruined my life. And spoils her so far.
She chose to live so far away that I had to spend several hours and dozens of gallons of gas to get to her.
She resents the slightest my refusal to do anything she wants.
She constantly tells me that regrets about my appearance. That my children is the worst project that she saw. What I mess of a fallen woman and were not able to find the right man.
And I am suffering. My anger at her, and then guilt, when anger does break through, and I throw it all to the last drop. The anger on her gray head. I'm ashamed, it's my mom.
Sometimes I think the real relationship, sincere and no fake play, this relationship with my mother. The Creek and the constant accusations of each other, this is the real that is in my life.
And I'm tired of living.
I see you understand what I'm talking about. Thank you for that.
_____________________________________________________________________________
25 March 2013
my name is Rita, and I want a woman who would like to forget his mother.
Can I blame her? – Yes.
Can I hate her? – Yes.
Can I despise? – Yes.
Can I say it? – no.
Can I say to her like need her? – no.
Can I say to her as I love her? – no.
Can I hug her? – no.
And no, she's not dead, has not left this world, she also simultaneously painfully close and so terribly far away.
And I'm stuck in between, and stopped breathing halfway. Yes, and also live – in half. Close to none I suppose, and loneliness terribly afraid.
What I'd like? I am ashamed to admit it... I'm not so little anymore, I'm over forty, and I still passionately desire her attention. Well, at least a little bit, a little bit of love.
And I hate her, I hate with all my soul, for being so much in need. And it will never end.
my name is Rita and I'm a little girl who needs a mother's love.
!
