the pre-bedtime recap post

I need to write this in Spanish to make up for lost practice. I will then translate.
Hola internet,
Hoy fue muy bueno pero deseo que no estuve cansada. Es muy dificil a escribir en un otra lengua ahora porque mi ingles es tan terrible como mi espanol. Me duele mi cuerpo mucho hoy porque de la noche pasada. Fui a una fiesta de Couchsurfing y conoci muchas personas de muchas paises blehblehbleh. Los chicos son insistentes y de Caracas, Buenos Aires, Mexico City, y Panama City. Muchos besos que no quiero. Fui a otros bares despues de la fiesta en San Telmo con un model de Panama y un chico homosexual del norte de carolina. blehblehbleh
Este manana estaba baracha asi, y no me gusta este mucho. Come con el grupo de mi programa. Entonces fuimos al centro de la gobierno en la cuidad: Casa Rosada y etcetc. We travelled to the port neighborhood which is full of brick and free of trash. A giant ecological reserve of this strangely unkempt yet ruly brush sits alongside of the streets and sprawls for blocks that would otherwise be used in support of urbanization. A metal flower sculpture suddenly blooms beyond the vast expanse of nature. It might be my favorite sculpture without even considering the ambiguity of artistic worth of a sculpture. If it is functioning, it opens with the sunrises and closes with the sunset.
I went to the cemetary with a girl from Pennsylvania and another from Malaysia. Some of the tombs are bashed into, many of them have fresh flowers sitting on the platforms behind the glass. The cemetary is almost like a little town with tiny homes for the dead. The concept behind these burials is so perplexing considering the thought process behind creating eternal homes when the majority of living lack homes of their own. Some of the caskets are readily accessible, and I was tempted to open the door but did not for fear of an unshakable curse, not being in favor with the androgynous angels, large bugs and sleeping cats hanging out in the shadows disturbed by my meddling hand. There were little paw prints on top of some of the visible unkept caskets which was so lovely. Cats are must not be self aware afterall and/or fear not often unless in cases when their survival is threatened. I did knock on one of the caskets for good measure. My favorite epitaph read: !Papa! Nunca no fue. Siempre aca existara por eterna. I wish more people talked to the animals. It's a very natural way of connecting with your surroundings! Duh. Many people wake up every day and talk to the sun. It is not a conversation in the traditional sense, but does someone have to be verbally speaking to you to be engaged in a dialogue or exchange? I don't think so.
This is what I am thinking about before my head hits the pillow. As you paint this picture will you tell me what's going on in your mind? It is the only thing I think about anymore. My mind will surely also return to the scary man in the street who hid behind the corner when he saw us group of girls sticking his hands in his pants and running back out from his corner to continue with his business while watching us pass. If he popped out of the cemetary, I believe my worst fear of the locale would have been realized. I can't speak in English anymore right now. Good night mooon. Good night internet.