I am very sorry I will have to tell you this using the  language I am using. This language is the one widely used in on-line chats. It is a highly unstable language, and fairly superficial as it is young and grows like an alien inside machines. It is a language of people that does not speak properly the language they are using, as it is not their natural language. It is and will always be a foreign language, no matter from where you are coming.

I am an acquaintance  of Maria Borges,  a name inherited from her father as well as her mother, since they were relatives before their marriage. The idea of the death of her mother by means of drinking caustic soda have accompanied her throughout her entire life. Maybe that is why nothing that is unusual really feels unusual to her.
 
I am not her, as my name is Anna and I saw you twice this month. You told students about your joy. Your hands made a movement that caught my attention throughout the entire time frame of your lecture – a horizontal movement, one of your hands far from the other some 30 cm. You moved the air contained within these limits like it was some sort of heavy material. 

At the very same moment I watched your movements, I thought I could die when I would complete 92 years of age. I would spend my last days lazily, watching all the films that have ever been made. Literature for the eyes. You said something, a very little thing, that made me realize that 1001 items contained in one of one thousand and one items plus this one, adds up to 2023 which is the year you will be releasing your story. At this thought I felt I should contact you. I just didn’t know for what reason, though I accepted it entirely since I dont believe anymore in usual timelines and logical sequences of incidents. 
 

As you can probably guess,  Maria Borges and I are not from the country we are living in and Nathan Green as well does not live here. All three of us met each other on the internet when Nathan responded to an ad. Like many people do, Maria Borges had placed an ad with the intention of hiding herself from her own loneliness. He responded not because he was lonely like she was, the reason being that his girlfriend – a woman born in the same country as Maria and I –had disappeared. If I were you, I would notice the fact that Borges is also the name of a southamerican writer and Anna is a name that reads the same from all sides, a palindrome.
 
From what I know, you are aware that in the world we are living in and at this historical moment, there are people that go back and forth. There is hardly a frontier for them and no desire to stop. I know a name for them which I will tell you in time even though his name  is still a secret I cherish. 

Nathan Green holds inside himself  a story, a crazy tale, full of difficulties and erotic rituals he is living right now. This all is taking place in Rio de Janeiro, a city near the one Maria Borges came from, but one to which I have never been. 
I don’t know if you have ever been to Rio, but Nathan talks about  people, like himself, coming from America. In America there are people  thinking  the world is nothing but an extension of themselves. In Rio they all find themselves dealing with prostitutes, pimps and criminals. This is because they have fallen for a beautiful dark woman wearing almost no clothes or wearing extremely tight clothes walking on the streets who may eventually be sitting at the same table at the same time where they had been seated. Because all they see is their own desires and needs instead of the real women who is beautiful sitting there trying to make a living, they get hooked on them. Then they think the women are evil and in control of their will because they are themselves not in control of their feelings and desires. 
 
Do you realize how hot Rio can be? Or how claustrophobic you can feel in a very small apartment in Copacabana where all the little rooms have a different, highly pigmented color on the walls? Or how stressed one becomes at the moment he or she is trying to reach for your wallet, pointing a gun at you?  Can you imagine how stressed these people become in those nights that one cannot sleep because it is too warm and the feelings of hunger and hate rise to the surface?
The Nathan Clark story I will tell is happening right now- as I am telling you this he carries and continues a story.  Stories have their own time and come out of you when they desire it themselves. When this man first wrote to Maria he was probably very impatient. In finding me, he was hoping for a opportunity to something .
 
He asked Maria Borges for some pictures and she sent him many images of different sorts – her face, her feet, her mouth, a yellow painting, a word from her child. They were not matching souls and I am still not able to entirely comprehend why they wanted to see each other, a meeting that never happens. Something always causes an avoidance, a leap. They almost managed to meet a year ago in Madagascar, but he missed her. She could not find him in the boat between Rio Sao Francisco and the Marajo island because he missed it. His ticket had a different color, a dark one, after catching rain inside his pockets.  

Due to his activities he travels frequently. He photographs landscapes and believe they are sexual  acts and to keep her interested in him he writes her erotic stories. He has been doing this for the 2 years and 7 months each and every day and every single attempt to meet.
 
Last night I decided I really wanted to tell you his story. I went to Maria Borges’s sleeping room and grabbed a paper she had saved under a grey hat which nobody may touch. As  my own instincts had already told me, I found a sample of the stories written by this man that calls himself Nathan. 
I know, in fact, his name is another one; but his son Allen, at the grave of his mother who also died drinking caustic soda,  made me swear I would never tell anybody that there had ever been another man besides Nathan Green. And that actually he was  not Mathew Green’ son but the son of another Mathew Green, a man who died just before his wife made a transgender operation becaming a man, her husband. 
As Allen means alone in Dutch and Allen’s only daughter’s name is Solange (my mother’s name), I swore Allan I would die if I ever divulged the name I know, the real name of his father, for this name burns every mouth that speaks it and every ear that listens to it.
 
Here is the text written in green ink on a piece of worn paper by the man that called himself Nathan Green:
 
I am revealing in the warmth and sensuality of your sexual awakening and sense of freedom that our love brings to you. In everything you do, I will be with you…feeling along with you, touching along with you, tasting along with you. Every kiss you have will be with me. Every taste of flesh will be mine. Every smell of close male humans will be me. Every time your lips touch another one, you will think of doing this with me. Each penis that fills you, thrusts into your accepting body will be mine. Each time you feel the gush of warm fluid you will think of how I would be filling you with mine. I know you will always take me with you and that our feelings are so entwined that I will be feeling along with you.  

to be continued….

 

We have in this website a post entitled ladybird sex. Because of the word sex each week I need to clean up to 500 spam comments on the post. All the comments are from very unrelated issues like ipad2forfree, hack someones facebook account, Poker Tables, movie reviews, indian restaurant, learn conversational spanish, accounting certificate programs, online finance certificate, Hemorrhoid Cures, irritable bowel syndrome treatment , electric cigarette, investment, natural diet pills, MR Excel, ptz security camera, camera pen, Workplace Accident Claim, Garage Doors Bellevue, The Truth About Six Pack Ab, marbella apartments, volkswagen forum, smokeless cigarettes, newyork-jets, car loans.

Do we think sex is just a word to sell?