Miluna94oficial

Hahaha! It doesn't matter what color you dye your hair, red, fuchsia, or black. You're still the same ridiculous person who puts up with what I can't. It's that simple.

Good morning, my dears. Happy first Friday of January! I hope you are all doing well. Time passes, but memories and moments lived remain etched in our minds, bodies, and souls. Caresses are never forgotten, and kisses never fade.

2025ari agur esaten ari gara dagoeneko, eta 2026a hasi baino lehen, nik zuri agur esaten dizut. Nolanahi ere, hau amaitu duzu, eta bihotza hautsi zait, egunero irribarre onenarekin aurrera egiten saiatuz. Jakina, ez dut ahaztu, baina ez dut gehiago esaten. Hau nahi zenuen, eta arima erretzen didan arren eta zu ikusten jarraitzen badut ere, amaitu da.

We are already on the last day of the year 2025, on the one hand it seems unbelievable to me but on the other hand I want it to end already so I don't remember certain things I've experienced.

I don't know how I managed to hold back in La Laguna, with that fuchsia-haired girl so close. We were at the theater. I'm trying to put aside these feelings that burn in my heart; at the same time, I feel rage and hatred.

2:41 a.m. I'm exhausted after more than 17 hours of filming.

Good morning, and have a lovely last Saturday of October. I haven't slept at all, I couldn't; I'm really nervous about today's short film shoot.

Good afternoon, there are only 9 days left until my 31st birthday, and honestly, I was very determined to write her a letter where I first apologize for something that happened last year and then tell her what I've been through. But right now, I'm not sure whether to write it or not. Obviously, I don't want any problems with anyone, but I also don't want the same thing to happen to other people. What should I do?

There I am, but I have had to contain myself and bite my tongue, but I don't really know how much longer I can continue without telling anyone.

Buenas noches;desde agosto no me pasaba por aquí y no precisamente porque no tuviera cosas que escribir.

I sincerely believe I have the right to write and share my experiences without anyone getting upset because I'm speaking about myself in the first person. My life is mine, and I can decide what to do or not to do. Who are the rest of us to get upset or complain? No one knows my life and my experiences better than I do.

The erotic story I'm writing is more real than fiction. Marta and Alberto are us; it's the only way I have of understanding what's happening, because the silence burns me inside.

I don't know what to do with what my uncle wants to do. On the one hand, I would like to do it and be and live in Tenerife, which is my dream. But on the other hand, I don't want to, and honestly, I don't know what I really should do.

At this hour, there's a stranger whose face I couldn't get a good look at, sitting on the sidewalk in front of my house with an electric skateboard, and he's been touching the scooter's ring several times. I'm scared.

It's 2:17 in the morning and I'm here writing again, lying in bed, still thinking about him. I haven't received a single message from him in days, and everything inside me is burning. I know this isn't right, but what can I do? All of this is too much for me, and I'm scared.