- Joined
- Sep 7, 2025
- Messages
- 1
- Reaction score
- 4
Hello dear friends.
I want to talk about my genes, and the genes of the guys I saw on the internet. My mother's family has albinism. But I estimate that my hair was ash blonde and my eyes were green. In the latter part of the 20th century, my mother was with some European men. The albino in the photo looks a lot like me. I would like to have a child with him.
My father is an Indo-Iranian Taliban. He has almost black hair with very defined curls. He met my mother. And I inherited everything from my father, even his curls, which are so difficult to describe. His big chest, his large nipples and his chest hair. Because my mother was much lighter-skinned and had slightly wavy hair. Just a little wavy.
My father is a warm-hearted, very pleasant and kind person, with a soul, intelligence and great nobility. He is fun.
The baby I could never conceive would have ultra-curly, afro-type hair. I can't have that baby, just think about my life and the things I miss out on expressing, because everything must be spicy and pleasant, flavorful, like my father's curls.
It's a miracle that I was born so normal, so well-formed.
My eyes are ochre brown, my father's eyes. I am 1.62 meters tall. My hair is dark brown, chocolate brown.
I dream of the day my things are packed, and I coordinate my arrival in Iceland, to be with the people and the family I am promised.
To be loved, accepted.
Have you ever wondered why birth defects and difficult birth conditions occur? I have thought about that.
People with cleft lip, people who are short, blind people, intellectually disabled people. I don't want to have a child with any conditions. That's why my man must not have curly hair, not for anything in this world. Marry a redhead. Marry an albino. Patiently make his baby. Step by step.
And reach the moment of childbirth. What a feeling. I'm used to measuring and calculating all my possibilities. To holding tightly to my clothes and burdens, and moving whenever I'm told to. Obey or I'll kill you.
My father and I like music. We like "Chilean Cultural Expressions." We always cheer for those kinds of things. To be able to sing and make music without being bothered. Because the spirit fades and becomes a murky liquid when you have to go to work. You forget what you're most passionate about in the world. You forget. Like with my African friends, the sparks and fire of dance and music. They're good.
It's like a shadow figure that feeds off the good vibes and energy of people who strive. That's why I turn to white magic, crystals, and organized religion. Everyone laughs, "Ha-ha, what a sad nun." Me, a nun? I own several crystals. The mineral crystal I have is a Combarbalite stone pyramid from northern Chile. The mineral thinks I'm amazing.
I fight with them. I use money. I suffer. I get back up.
I'm not afraid to raise my voice and speak out for what I believe and feel. It stops giving them so much satisfaction when I seem intimidated.
Don't tell me that "World Peace" and "Eliminating Pollution" are so important. Because I will strive, even at the cost of losing social standing and my father's love.
Thank you to all the kind people who have supported me throughout my life. Because I needed their affection to be happy.
I am loyal. I like being loyal. But at the same time, I can't be fooled. I am very perceptive.
I want to talk about my genes, and the genes of the guys I saw on the internet. My mother's family has albinism. But I estimate that my hair was ash blonde and my eyes were green. In the latter part of the 20th century, my mother was with some European men. The albino in the photo looks a lot like me. I would like to have a child with him.
My father is an Indo-Iranian Taliban. He has almost black hair with very defined curls. He met my mother. And I inherited everything from my father, even his curls, which are so difficult to describe. His big chest, his large nipples and his chest hair. Because my mother was much lighter-skinned and had slightly wavy hair. Just a little wavy.
My father is a warm-hearted, very pleasant and kind person, with a soul, intelligence and great nobility. He is fun.
The baby I could never conceive would have ultra-curly, afro-type hair. I can't have that baby, just think about my life and the things I miss out on expressing, because everything must be spicy and pleasant, flavorful, like my father's curls.
It's a miracle that I was born so normal, so well-formed.
My eyes are ochre brown, my father's eyes. I am 1.62 meters tall. My hair is dark brown, chocolate brown.
I dream of the day my things are packed, and I coordinate my arrival in Iceland, to be with the people and the family I am promised.
To be loved, accepted.
Have you ever wondered why birth defects and difficult birth conditions occur? I have thought about that.
People with cleft lip, people who are short, blind people, intellectually disabled people. I don't want to have a child with any conditions. That's why my man must not have curly hair, not for anything in this world. Marry a redhead. Marry an albino. Patiently make his baby. Step by step.
And reach the moment of childbirth. What a feeling. I'm used to measuring and calculating all my possibilities. To holding tightly to my clothes and burdens, and moving whenever I'm told to. Obey or I'll kill you.
My father and I like music. We like "Chilean Cultural Expressions." We always cheer for those kinds of things. To be able to sing and make music without being bothered. Because the spirit fades and becomes a murky liquid when you have to go to work. You forget what you're most passionate about in the world. You forget. Like with my African friends, the sparks and fire of dance and music. They're good.
It's like a shadow figure that feeds off the good vibes and energy of people who strive. That's why I turn to white magic, crystals, and organized religion. Everyone laughs, "Ha-ha, what a sad nun." Me, a nun? I own several crystals. The mineral crystal I have is a Combarbalite stone pyramid from northern Chile. The mineral thinks I'm amazing.
I fight with them. I use money. I suffer. I get back up.
I'm not afraid to raise my voice and speak out for what I believe and feel. It stops giving them so much satisfaction when I seem intimidated.
Don't tell me that "World Peace" and "Eliminating Pollution" are so important. Because I will strive, even at the cost of losing social standing and my father's love.
Thank you to all the kind people who have supported me throughout my life. Because I needed their affection to be happy.
I am loyal. I like being loyal. But at the same time, I can't be fooled. I am very perceptive.
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