Real things to write about

I know it may sounds crazy to you, but the wind talked to me this noon. He was bleeding upon my neck, getting me thrilled, and he was doing it to all the other female creatures I saw around: leaves, trees, flowers, other girls. He was there and everywhere, shouting his name at loud among the dead wood, swipping the pages of my notebook and blowing with violence. He told me that he would like to be a twister, that he was feeling empty on that stupid function. And, suddenly, he invaded my underwear. I don´t know if he knows, but I´m gonna tell this to my boyfriend. Boring wind. Can´t you see you´re annoying me? Why don´t you go find somebody else to bother with your cry? In fact, I´m tired of writting about things I can´t touch. Wind. Love. Hate. Revolution. It´s better to write about food. Fingers. Cock. Yeah! Cock sounds great! That´s such good literary material. But here between us, writting about it? There are so much better things to do with... (6)