Barcelona, You, Bitch!!

Barcelona is a bastard, a cheap whore, a shabby circus for tourists, where clowns are themselves. Some people might think she is the coolest city in the world, but I don't see it at all, she's never been so, and she'll never be. But she is fooling you all.

I've slept with her, been used, and dumped! A disposable love. What's the point of getting drunk and smoked to the top? I've done it, for sure, with her, many times. No prejudices, no regret, but once you get up in an unknown place, a nameless street, with an unknown sweat body besides you, dirty, guilty, drilled by the worst hang-over in your life, dead brain and broken body, then you see the real being of your soul while looking at her: nothing at all, empty spectrum with the driest tongue. Was that so cool, eh? Emptiness, silence, dirt: Barcelona, who is she?

Barcelona is a whore that sells her body to the worst payer, drunkers, homeless, fools, ignorants, the pointless people that brainlessly flock to the city looking for something they lost in their homes long time ago, and hope to find here, freedom. Barcelona is selling herself to such people, giving little doses of such freedom, though a fake one, in the shape of fun, since this is what they are asking her to be.

What if another thing was required by them? Don't worry, Barcelona would provide it too. Barcelona is an open-legged whore, letting anybody to touch her inner hollows, her sex, her deepest, wettest and sweetest parts, almost for free. Just buy her a drink and a joint, and she will let you enjoy with her cunt. She is a bitch, she is a tramp. No commitment, no love, just plain interest, just lies.

Barcelona may fool you, but can't fool me, since I've seen her crying and being raped, dumped, drunk, drugged, vomited upon, pissed, crapped, stolen, bitten, destroyed and ripped off. I've seen her begging for mercy, for help, for water, for food, for love. And now, she can't fool me any more. Though I love her, I also hate her.

Barcelona is my mother and my wife, my sister and my lover, she is my whore, my bitch, and I bang her the whole night long, while she cums once and again, in an endless orgasm of craze and fun. But Barcelona is not mine anymore, Barcelona is not yours either. Barcelona is nobody's, since Barcelona is not even hers.