Yani Canetti
   
SOY
ESCRIBO
TENGO
RECUERDO
PIENSO
DIGO
DICEN
HAGO
CONFIESO
COMPARTO
ESTOY
       
  Three Toys a Year
I Hate Books
The Other "Me"
Mess Ups
Mi House, My City
37 Times
They Say Tt...
Bad Worhat I Was Racisds
Unfinished Songs
Oh, Freud
Metidas de pata

I can’t even remember how many times or how I have messed up. I have had that many, really.

I have scared potential boyfriends away when they were just about to give me a kiss for something I said just before. I have had sublime moments of intimacy. I have messed up the best jokes.

I have acidentally scared religious people, faithful men, charitable ladies, and even God himself. I have even managed to have someone who considered me a marvel of decency and candidness, a nice little girl protected by her grandmother while growing up, to think all kinds of things about my perverted mind because of something naive I said.

Out of all the mess ups, the most common are those where I forawdly speak my mind without imagining what or who I may affect. I’m going to take the opportunity now to apolozige for past mess ups and apologize beforehand for those to come in the future.

 

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