Why Doesnt Alexis Texas Do Black Guys

balance

In love relationships There are two types of people: the mules and thoroughbred. Mules are faithful companions in life, hard workers, obedient and domabile not dodge the whip of the master, and with humility and resignation do their duty, and always with devotion. The thoroughbred
are just the opposite. Degl'impareggiabili are sons of bitches, anarchists, selfish, unwilling to yoke, unpredictable, uncontrollable, but fucking powerful.
The mule is to find a balance of convenience, to perpetuate the illusion of stability, to disguise the change, denying it to extremes.
With a purebred you can ride with the wind in your face, feel God, but always run the risk of being unseated. The mule will take you to your destination, but never, never and I repeat, will give you a hint of emotion.
The same comparison can be done to the concept of balance. Some people will like the stalemate that no event can disturb. Others, like me, who perceive him as the epitome of extreme acrobatics, as noted below, from hell to paradise where you are.
In both cases the question of the fall is just a matter of time. That the fall may be a simple consequence of gravity, or it can be an art.

may seem meaningless words, metaphors, short legs, but if there's a thoroughbred among those who read these lines, safe who understands what I mean.

"I do not trust you, I'll end up hurt," said Marta last night.
"You also want a mule, in other words" I told her dry.

Pain is part of life, you always have the courage to accept it. Only if you live in hell every single day you know recognize the paradise when you meet him. Only if you live in pain and loneliness can you grasp what a beautiful pass in his hands, and attaccartici with all your strength, holding it up to bleed.
that you do not like risk, which will close within a glass bell frightened the world, by suffering, that you think you starvene secure in your relationship full of certainties, of reassurance, a pat on the shoulder, you who pretend most of the time for fear of loss or even worse, abandonment, you, I pity you. As for me, I want the wind in your face, I feel God, because only then can I stop to smell the shit all the mules of the world, and finally live. And if I fall, as happened to me many times, will not be a clumsy flight followed by a dull thud. No sirs, I will be an Icarus in all its glory piroetterà facing the ground as the right result for wanting to touch the sun.