/lit/ - Literature

Not a regular poster on this board, I only want to share my personal love experience and emotional status:

I met the love of my life in the university of Salamanca, her name is Carmen Salud btw. We both from a wealthy family. Like my twin, so united.
I can't regret it: I went after her delightfully just after meeting her, because she agreed with my love honestly and we made a decision of building something together. After finishing college, we made a lot of trips all allong Europe for years, learnt a lot of things. In Deutschland we started smoking marihuana and our relationship changed its dynamic, now it was sweeter and warmest. Later in Britania, Carmen Salud developed a high feeling for flowers and perfumes and her aspirations changed from being a doctor to being an artist, me, there I discovered the true feeling of reading and made it a habit. While my perpetual honeymoon was always full of happiness, our drug addiction was increasing. During our staying in Suisse, I used to read Stendhal to her while opium smell impregnated throughout the bedroom, later both took an acid trip in Greece after interiorizing Plato.
Finally drug addiction made me live in a psychopatic rutine. After a few years of travelling, we settled up in Cádiz, in a house near the beach with views to طنجة, Morocco. We two got addicted on MDMA and Ectasy, made a lot of money in few time whereby keep affording a vicious life. During a summer hollyday I managed to collect at least a dozen of pills and my fiancée and I took them once in a week. That rocky experience made us weaker and we swore not taking ectasy again, but the promise was broken by both parts, first secretly, then openly.
We survived two months more until the "Critical Week", our drugdealer was arrested, I tried to search for another one, but I was frightened of entering to the suburbs. Those seven days were the longest ones I ever lived, full of dark feelings, rage and resentment.
No MDMA or Ectasy for a month. Yes, we are addicted, we can manage it, we need to support each other. But my fiancée got crazy and depressive, histerical, hostile with her family and coworkers, started smoking cigarrettes, drinking coffee. She get used to the drama performance of leaving me and coming back after two hours like nothing happened.
It is sad; we tagged ourselves as nihilistic, existentialist, but reality is we were living truly hedonistic. Was that life? I doubt it. For what purpose we exchange 'fun with drugs' for 'drugs for fun'? All those experiences were empty because I never had an identity, and all I've ever known became to fade in the form of just curious facts. I guess that's what they call "postmodern condition".
She's gone back to Madrid, she says she doesn't love me anymore but I know it is a lie. I want to go to see a therapist, and I want her with me. I'm travelling right now searching for my Carmen.
While writting this I've filled two hours of travelling, we're stopping to pee in a gas station byee

Not a regular poster on this board, I only want to share my personal love experience and emotional status:

I met the love of my life in the university of Salamanca, her name is Carmen Salud btw. We both from a wealthy family. Like my twin, so united.
I can't regret it: I went after her delightfully just after meeting her, because she agreed with my love honestly and we made a decision of building something together. After finishing college, we made a lot of trips all allong Europe for years, learnt a lot of things. In Deutschland we started smoking marihuana and our relationship changed its dynamic, now it was sweeter and warmest. Later in Britania, Carmen Salud developed a high feeling for flowers and perfumes and her aspirations changed from being a doctor to being an artist, me, there I discovered the true feeling of reading and made it a habit. While my perpetual honeymoon was always full of happiness, our drug addiction was increasing. During our staying in Suisse, I used to read Stendhal to her while opium smell impregnated throughout the bedroom, later both took an acid trip in Greece after interiorizing Plato.
Finally drug addiction made me live in a psychopatic rutine. After a few years of travelling, we settled up in Cádiz, in a house near the beach with views to طنجة, Morocco. We two get addicted on MDMA and Ectasy, made a lot of money in few time whereby keep affording a vicious life. During a summer hollyday I managed to collect at least a dozen of pills and my fiancée and I took them once in a week. That rocky experience made us weaker and we swore not taking ectasy again, but the promise was broken by both parts, first secretly, then openly.
We survived two months more until the "Critical Week", our drugdealer was arrested, I tried to search for another one, but I was frightened of entering to the suburbs. Those seven days was the longer ones I ever lived, full of dark feelings, rage and resentment.
No MDMA or Ectasy for a month. Yes, we are addicted, we can manage it, we need to support each other. But my fiancée got crazy and depressive, histerical, hostile with her family and coworkers, started smoking cigarrettes, drinking coffee. She get used to the drama performance of leaving me and coming back after two hours like nothing happened.
It is sad; we tagged ourselves as nihilistic, existentialist, but reality is we were living truly hedonistic. Was that life? I doubt it. For what purpose we exchange 'fun with drugs' for 'drugs for fun'? All those experiences were empty because I never had an identity, and all I've ever known became to fade in the form of just curious facts. I guess that's what they call "postmodern condition".
She's gone back to Madrid, she says she doesn't love me anymore but I know it is a lie. I want to go to see a therapist, and I want her with me. I'm travelling right now searching for my Carmen.
While writting this I've filled two hours of travelling, we're stopping to pee in a gas station so bye