domingo, 21 de noviembre de 2010

Bad Moon Rising

It's pretty late at night, next week I finish my major, I've got a lot of shit to do, and yet I can't stop thinking about one unrelated thing. Which sucks because well, anyone who knows me knows that when my mind is on something else I can't do much else. I'm a good multitasker as long as my mind is in blank.

But right now it's not blank, it's got so many colors that I'd make Edvard Munch proud. Since this is a recollection of my thoughts for future consult and to remind me I was young once, I guess it's okay to say what's on my mind today. To be honest, the third girl, the one I'm supposed to talk now since I've already talked about the other two left me pretty much screwed over.

This is someone that well, she was the best liar and actress I've met on my life. And she's not even a theater major, although I've gotta say, all theater majors I've ever met are crazier than a sack full of goats. But no, this girl, well, she was the third big relationship to change me for good. I guess after today that number increases to four, but I'm not sure it's alright to mix one story with the other, even if they are kind of related.

This girl, she was new, exciting, way older than me and we had so much fun, not only that, but we talked for hours on the phone, and she pretty much helped me survive a period of my life where I was feeling extremely alone. However, she was also seeing someone else, and on top of that she was married and by the end of the relationship expecting a baby. Not mine, thankfully, but if I'm being honest, she's the first girl that made me even consider have a serious relationship. I already had a plane ticket and was planning on going and living with her for a month before we broke up. To be honest I can't remember why we broke up, I think I was drunk with my friends and I told her something I shouldn't have, although in the end I guess I did myself a favor.

It's like I always say, even when you think that something is really crappy, it has a reason, it's probably saving you from something worse, or teaching you a lesson. This was exactly that, a lesson that if I let anyone near me and open up, I'm gonna end up hurt, because no matter what happens love is like that, it sucks.

Also, lets face it, it's not like I'm the easiest person to get along with, and I'm eccentric enough to know that at least in a traditionalist society like the one I'm living currently I'll hardly find someone good enough for me, which is one of the reasons I wanna go so badly. I suppose that's the bad thing of knowing statistics, when you start calculating the odds it doesn't really give much hope.

Leaving pregnant, still married, cheating bitch aside, a couple of days ago, I confessed my love for this girl I know, and she said she felt it as well, unfortunately she's not even in the same continent as me, and even though we talk everyday, and we are like really good for each other, in fact she made me have faith that maybe all hopes weren't lost you know? That maybe all my relationships weren't meant to suck and maybe I had just had bad luck with them. But well dunno, I knew we both weren't that alright with distance, me because well last time I tried the long distance thing I ended up with crazy still married pregnant woman. But still, dunno, I had hope that maybe somehow we could make it work, after all, we both felt it and all, but well, things apparently are more complicated and love isn't enough. It happens I guess, it fucking sucks though because I'm still crazy about her, I don't think I'll ever stop being, if I read this in twenty years I bet remembering her will bring a smile to my face.

And even though she returned my faith in love, and made me feel like I don't have to be in a relationship just to kill loneliness or just because it's comfortable, I still feel like giving up on relationships altogether again. At least not also in love like last time, but maybe I'm simply not meant to meet someone that makes me happy and that I make her happy as well. I guess some people just don't have that much luck.

Regardless of what will happen to me, I know that at least for this week I'm screwed, I've got so much to do and I really don't see how it's gonna get done with the mental state I find myself in right now. It's not like I'm sad, or mad, or depressed, although maybe that's due to the antidepressants I am taking now... but I just feel like... giving up. Just raising my hands and wave that white flag like a bitch.

Today, I just wanna go to sleep and wake up next month. Because not only do school ends this week, but all my family and friends come for graduation in two weeks, and having all my family asking me why I look like a living dead is not going to be fun to answer. Also, my ex-girlfriend is sitting with my mom's family... I just realized that... Fuck, I'm screwed.

My mom's family... well, I could write another 2000 words post on them and how their criticism has affected me since I was little, but I don't think I have the emotional will to remember all the times I've disappointed them. Whatever I do isn't enough, if I have a girlfriend she's not good enough for me, if I don't have a girlfriend I will die alone, if I socialize they don't like something I say, if I don't socialize they tell me I'm weird for staying stuck to the computer, if I have my hair long I should cut it, if I cut it then it's too short, if I choose to major in something I love like psychology then I'm gonna die of hunger. And it's like this every time... I just set myself up to disappoint everyone anytime I see them. So hopefully they won't criticize too harshly my ex. Or the girl I used to date that is sitting next to my ex.... I don't think I have planned the whole graduation thing well.

Honestly I invited a whole bunch of people, thinking only a handful would accept, but everyone accepted, so I'm gonna go crazy that day. But well, at least I'm medicated, I can just take extra medication to keep me from mass murdering the entire event.

In conclusion, love sucks, relationships suck, I suck at planning and I wished clones existed and I could use one for the next two weeks.

miércoles, 27 de octubre de 2010

Disinhibition- I can't get no (satisfaction)

I have a long history with alcohol, when I was a kid I saw my dad getting drunk and I swore to myself I would never be like him, I would never become my dad, and that included not drinking. That line of thought carried on until I was 17, which if you ask me that was a pretty long run since my junior high classmates started drinking at age 14. However due to the list and the fact that for a long time I was pretty sure I would die young (I still think so), I decided to try it, and from then, well, I liked it.

I didn't just like the flavor, I liked the disinhibition that came with it, it made me be a different person, you know, me, but less angry, less neurotic and less self conscious, in other words a better me, also a less articulate me. Anyway, I enjoyed it, and I also discovered that drinking got rid of my insomnia, which I've had since I was twelve, and so, when I really needed a night of sleep, I'd drink till I was ready to pass out. Not the healthiest way but sleeping pills did nothing for me.

Now I'm being treated for GAD which is well, an anxiety disorder, and I'm on a different list of meds, I can't drink for a while, not that I'm addicted, I've quit for extended periods of time before, but I do like to enjoy a good beer with my friends sometimes.

The reason of this post however is that the pills are also making me lose inhibition a bit, while not drunk, which feels weird, in a good way, today for example, a teacher, that I hate for stealing our advertising group research and campaign and not giving us any recognition, was giving us a talk, so I was well... taunting him. I wanted him to throw me out of his talk, not only because I hated the topic, but because I wanted some confrontation, no one had told him anything, but I wanted him to know... I wanted him to understand that talking about respect and creativity and ideals to a group of people you stole a whole advertising campaign from just 10 months ago is not only uncool, but one of the most hypocritical things I've ever heard in my life.

I wasn't the only one talking, but he decided to make an example out of me, and I felt fucking good that he did, because as I left the classroom and he gave me one last push by commenting something about the way I left to my classmates, I got the last argument my new found disinhibition needed, I turned around and outed him as an idea thief that didn't deserve any respect from me because he hadn't earned it.

For a split second before I turned around and left, I could see everyone's faces, they were all thinking it, and none of them could believe I had just done that, the teacher himself couldn't believe I had just said that, he got pale and got cold sweat as I talked. And as I made my scene today I felt good, I felt like I didn't need alcohol anymore to be that stronger, more interesting version of me that I seemed to love, because I am becoming the person I want to be. And that, was the best thing that has happened to me all week.

I'm right on track to become the man that I want to be, a brave man that speaks the truth, that is honest, that will probably earn the hate of a lot people, the respect of some others and that will probably die young from a shot to the chest for being himself. And you know what? I wouldn't have it any other way, because today, I fucking rocked that room and I didn't have to stay to listen to his boring talk. Being a blunt straightforward jackass has it's benefits.

lunes, 11 de octubre de 2010

On Passive Aggressiveness

I've always had a temper, since I can remember, and when I was 10 after my parent's divorce and my short temper was well exploding as if I was nitrogen and everyone else was glycerine my parents decided to get me to a psychologist, it wasn't the last time I would see one as I admit I have way too many issues for my own good, but it was the first, and I felt like my mom and dad thought I was crazy, even though they repeatedly told me it wasn't that I was crazy, they just wanted to make sure I was okay.

My time on therapy developed two things, a strong love for psychology from there on and also that my temper became passive aggressive, I was no longer the kid that picked a fight whenever something ticked him off, but the kid that took everything in and planned his revenge quite slowly and without anyone realizing it was me. More than making me less angry, it made me less prone to show it and more inclined to plan ahead.

I hate passive aggressive people, which one would say it's hypocritical, and I would say that you can hate something that you are just fine, many people hate plenty of their personality traits, I accept me just how I am, I love my passive aggressiveness, I just hate when other people are like that.

Either way, lately, after my second trip to the psychologist I've let that personality trait go away for a more direct approach. One that doesn't involve finding an activity to vent over all the repressed anger. Although of course it still happens, I still write and I still draw which is how I let my emotions show, but also I tell people how I feel now, I try to always tell the truth no matter if people will take it wrongly and I try to not care what others think of me.

Although of course it never hurt anyone to let some steam out, I used to do it with fencing, sport that I practiced for five years, though lately writing was the most active thing I had done, this weekend however I got to play paintball, it was fun, I suck when shooting people while moving, but I have great aim.And shooting feels good.

It made me remember my time in Texas, when there was an issue about letting students carry guns on campus, the Houstonian, my school's paper polled me and I answered that I thought it was stupid and really bad, cause well drunk frat boys with guns ain't the brightest idea Texas has ever had. But it shocked me to see next day in print that out of the 5 people polled I was the only one against.

Sure, shooting is fun, it makes you feel great, but I don't know, somehow, mixing guns with the college life doesn't seem like the brightest idea the world has ever had.

miércoles, 6 de octubre de 2010

Sir Elton John screwed me over

The 63 year old man probably doesn't know this, but it's because of a concert he is giving in a nearby city that today I'm facing financial problems. The corruption in the government that he is performing for is just exaggeratedly big and it's forcing the low level employees to buy the tickets, just as in the past it has forced tickets for football games, a Shakira concert, an Alizee concert, etc. Only that this time we can't afford the ticket, so my mom got fired from her work today thanks to Sir Elton John, who won't ever know this most likely, and who will spend his life oblivious to what has happened in my household today.

I'm proud of my mom for her morals and this will most likely be taken to court as it was an unjustified lay off, which she will most likely win, but I just wanted to share with the world about those things that happen that affect us.

My mom never would have thought in a million years that due to Elton John she would be without a job one day, nor would I ever imagine it, it's like someone telling me today that in 10 years Natalie Portman will have a significant impact in my life.

The concert is for a good cause, it's too bad that the organizers of the concert aren't good at all, I sincerely wished that Sir Elton John would read this, because in a way his life has directly affected mine, and that's one of those universe situations that can never really be explained to the fullest.

It makes me wonder, sort of, how many people I have affected through out my life and how different the world would be if I hadn't existed, probably not that different, but with the chaos theory in place, even the tiniest change in the initial conditions could make major changes later, but I'll guess I'll never really know how significant or insignificant my life truly is.

lunes, 4 de octubre de 2010

The pink volcano

My memory isn't what it used to be, I don't know why that is but sometimes I can't even remember what I did that morning, it's becoming a bit frustrating to be honest, the feeling that my memory is tricking me and deceiving me.Of course I'd never admit to that out loud, pride is my capital sin, the worse of the seven some say, I don't know, I just know I'm too proud to do and admit many things.

One of my strongest memories is about the pink volcano, and no, it's not an effect of any psychedelic drug, it's the title of a book, a children book that my grandpa bought to me when I was around seven. From my dad's side I'm the oldest grandkid, and perhaps I'm the only one of us all that knew our grandfather, or at least that was old enough to remember him. He passed away from a combination of Parkinson's and Alzheimer's.

I still have that book today, and perhaps I'll give it to my first grandkid if I ever have one. Who knows? But this is one of the best and saddest memories I remember. After giving me this book, which is about a giant ice cream volcano that a grandfather buys his grandkid, my grandfather took me out for an ice cream. I remember it clearly because my grandfather was usually silent when he was with me, although he always smiled, except for the last part of his disease where he wouldn't even recognize us.

I love the pink volcano because it's the strongest connection I have to the man, I mean I remember how he used to talk, how he used to walk, how he liked to drink a glass of wine every day with his meal, but like I said I feel like I have to write all of this down because of my brain. One day I won't be able to tell anyone about the pink volcano, but this way, perhaps, I will.

My grandma is well, she's one of the people I love most in the world, she's just... She's amazing and I don't think I've ever seen such a broken heart than that of my grandma when my grandpa died. Sometimes when I don't feel bad about a lot of things that I should feel bad about, perhaps because I'm a cynic or perhaps because I'm selfish, I remember the way that I feel when I think about my grandpa and it makes me feel like I'm still human and not some robot that doesn't have any emotion towards other people.

In a weird way, that small yellow book lying on my bookshelf along next to the likes of Tolkien, Rowling and Brown, is what keeps me human and what will keep me sane even through the hardest of times. It's also probably the reason why I always eat ice cream when I'm depressed to make myself feel better.

sábado, 2 de octubre de 2010


I went to the opera on Monday, it's been some days since then and I guess I've started this blog, not for anyone else to read it, but to remind myself of the stuff that I'm sure I'll forget someday. I already half remember stuff, in years I don't wanna think what I'll had forgotten. Maybe I'll print all these entries for myself one day to remember the moments of the now then. A guide of how I survived teenage life and how I started to manage life as an adult.

So, the Opera, I don't believe I've told you, but I don't fall in love too often, and falling in love is not the same as being in a relationship with, and having a relationship with someone is not the same as being in a relationship, so first up we should clear all those terms up.

Thirteen is a tricky age, well around thirteen anyway, I don't think the story linking me to the performing arts was exactly covered in the period of time while I was thirteen, but it's most definitely when the event happened.

Before I speak of the event and the action that carried on a reaction that lead me to be seating for two hours last monday listening to Carmina Burana with my family, I should speak of a matter that dwells mostly on quantum mechanics, specially when theorizing about the possibility of backwards time travel. Retrocausality, this is important in physics because according to the laws, an effect cannot happen before it's cause.

This is the part where well, I question my mental sanity and the mental sanity of countless people I've talked to, not that I'm the sanest person, after all I do have a background of some psychiatric illnesses, but I could bet the most important thing in my life that the event happened.

I had a dream, about a girl, she was watching me from a window as I was locked up in a classroom. She looked from afar trying not to be noticed and smiled at me whenever I realized she was looking. One week later, I met this girl, I was doing an exam in a new school and she was peeping down the window watching curiously as I did my exam.

I never told her this, nor I think I've told a lot of people with a couple of notable exceptions, but ever since that day, she has been my dream girl. It sounds cheesy, I know, and the laws of physics say that it cannot possibly happen, but well, I'm not sure that physicists have it right just yet.

I am not a man that usually enjoys the performing arts, I rather watch a movie, or read a book, and if I had to choose from one of the arts to enjoy and be passionate about it would be a draw between writing and drawing. Not that I'm very good at either, but I do it for myself, as a form of getting to know me, as I have realized that not many people know themselves and I find that simply a bit sad.

But her, she was my dream girl. Remember a while back I told you that at age twenty one there had been three relationships that had marked me for good? Well this is number one. The mother of all traumas. And she danced ballet, and she made me feel alive every time she spontaneously appeared at my house, no one else, with the exception of the best year of my life, which I will have to cover later, has done that. And I loved it. She also had an unbelievable luck to always catch me after I had just taken a bath. And she taught me something that I haven't forgotten ever since, even if at times it's been hard. Be yourself, no matter what, just be yourself. I also had my first contact with the obscure subjects while around her and even though we only resided in the same city for a year, during which she had two different boyfriends, she made a deep impact into the making of who I am today.

Opera, Carmina Burana, there was a dancer from the Royal Ballet of London, the show was great, though maybe a bit uncoordinated at times. The lead female dancer made me think of her in her ballet outfit, I think my mind left the theater for what felt like an aeon.

I remembered the time I had to visit her ballet academy, it was well, an experience that would be completely hard to describe, but if you had to, it would be girls forced to mature too early acting like children backstage, like five year olds throwing flour and water balloons and pushing each other into the mud. It was like Neverland except with less pirates.

I developed feelings for other ballet dancers from there, I still think to this day that it's because I have unresolved issues, and I still today, can't really go to a performance act because I know that on my mind nothing will top what I felt when I was thirteen, but the opera on monday made me think back to a simpler time.

A time where the heartless didn't exist and I didn't feel like Cinderella taking my pill at 10 and having to leave crystal shoes behind. A time where Kingdom hearts hadn't showed me that my mental childhood didn't matched up with my body childhood, and a time where a surprise visit from my dream girl still made me feel the strongest butterflies I have ever felt.

Too bad she learned all of this too late. Though I don't believe in coincidences, so I guess I'll have to trust the bigger plan.

lunes, 27 de septiembre de 2010

The grass will be greener?

As I look through the window of my office, just having sent my resignation letter to my other bosses and letting them know that friday will be my last day, I think about what to write in these 15 minutes I have for myself before class.

Today is a day of changes, I had my psychiatrist appointment and I've been told to have yet another pill, this one is going to combat my insomnia, on top of the pills I've been taking for my GAD. So well my depression has apparently not stopped but the doc said that was common and that it should stop during the next weeks or days. So well, I can't wait to actually wanting to leave my bed, I hate chemical unbalances, they are seriously a pain in the ass.

Combined with a literature class that I hate, my teacher should be thankful I'm on meds or else I would have done something stupid in that class already. Have you ever had a teacher who doesn't admit to be wrong? I mean, sure, I am by no means an expert in literature, I do read a lot and I consider myself a knowledgeable person, in fact I have collaborative writing as a hobby of mine, so when she started talking about time and chronology in novels, well I was in my comfort zone, as a science fiction lover, I am all about time. So when she said that an example of anachronism was when a character went to the past as in Time Traveling, I knew she was wrong, since that is chronological in order for the main protagonist. So I told her than an anachronism would be a chapter where the main character is 10 years old followed by a chapter when he was 5.

Anyway, I guess that she doesn't like me that much anymore, mainly because I keep pointing out the inconsistencies in her teaching, but well, today I got more meds, the doc said we are doing progress with my psych issues and I'm slowly getting less insane. Which will be fun I guess, people always freak out when I tell them I'm taking anti-depressives, as if they expect me to jump off a bridge anytime soon. Pretty hilarious actually.

So now, I have to go to class, then to do a videogame transaction to get a Wii for the family, and I'll be going to a concert later on tonight, Carmina Burana, by some guy that danced somewhere in London. So it's supposed to be pretty good, I like some opera so I hope it will be good.

I say goodbye for now, as I feel more and more like a novel character as time passes by, I'm just expecting the climax or the plot twist sometime soon, and turn my life into either an action or a drama, so well, time will tell, personally, I like explosions.

sábado, 25 de septiembre de 2010

The list

So I watched this movie today, it was about a girl, on anti depressives, nothing wrong with her life, pretty successful as far as society says and she tries to kill herself. She doesn't succeed and well, the story I have to tell today isn't about her, it's about me. Me. Me. Me. It's always about me, that's what my mom says when she's pissed at me and that's what my friend tells me I should think when making life decisions. Anyway, we were on the movie of the suicide chick. Her psychiatrist makes her dream again and get her will to live back by making her believe that she's going to die soon anyway from an aneurysm. It's a very inspirational story kinda, I liked the setting and I couldn't help but to feel identified with the lead actress.

I'm also on anti depressives and I can't lie and tell you that it's been an easy path and that at the end will be daisies and a girl and a house on the fields where all my problems will go away. Pills are not magic, and yes, I have thought about suicide, not only once, nor twice, more like a few several dozen times. I've thought about ways, some days I think it should be painful, some days I think it should be pain free and quick. But well, everyone thinks about much more worse things and there's a huge step between thinking about something and doing it.

Either way, that's where the list comes into play, see, I always think my titles ahead, well not really, but sometimes I do and this time it's about that list. Old people call it the bucket list, I'm not 70 and about to die, thought to be honest everyone could be about to die, but well I like to think I'll die of a heart attack by age 40 because of the way I eat. Apparently a full diet of red meat everyday is not that wise for someone with hereditary high cholesterol, but I'll talk about heritage another time, right now it's about my non old bucket list.

Around age 13 I got my first panic attack, it wasn't the last, but again, I'll talk about that later, maybe the same time I'll talk about heritage since they are kinda related, but right now I'm thirteen, curling up in the cold floor during a cold December night having a mental breakdown. Thankfully no one was around because well, I don't know how I would have coped with being thought crazy at that age, it's pretty weird and bad at this age and I'm now legally to drink everywhere, which is apparently the requirement to be an adult.

So, as I curled up and cried about no real reason, because that's what panic attacks do, I thought that I wanted to die, right there, in the floor, in the most embarrassing position you could think of, I thought about my mom coming home and finding me there. And then I started thinking, there were many things I hadn't done and seen and that I couldn't die just there without doing them.

That's how the list started, it's not an actual list, it's a mental list though I have been meaning to write it down, maybe sometime soon, but well it's filled with things that I've been doing since I was 13 and that I have yet to do.

Being good at a sport, well, that one I could do, I practiced for five years and I made it to the nationals, I didn't win or anything but I've tied with the first places and I beat the best athletes from Dominican Republic once while training for the panamerican games.

Going to Europe, I've visited France and England and I loved it, I still have many places to visit though, my list is large and I'll probably not be able to fulfill it in my lifetime, but I can try.

Live in another country, I lived in the U.S. for a year, in Huntsville Texas, best year of my life so far, I learned so much about life, and that will go into another post altogether.

There were other things that I tried to do and couldn't, like learning to play the drums. I tried and I sucked at it, I still can't even play Rock band at easy mode without embarrassing my friends. I always get the vocals cause I do mildly better at them.

Other learning things that did go well was cooking and mixing drinks, I make one hell of a chocolate mousse and one awesome tequila sunrise. I learned how to draw, mostly on my own with tutorials and magazines, I may show you guys some of my stuff later, it's nothing like the background, I deliberately made it look like it was made by a 5 year old. I learned french and german and wanna keep learning them.

I conquered my fear of horror movies and roller coasters, and I did well, a lot of things I shouldn't have done that I don't regret for a second because that's a part of living you know? Doing whatever you want no matter the consequences, living.

There are many things left in my list, like finding a girl that makes me do all the crazy things that I'm still a bit scared of doing, but well, I'm sure it will happen someday, and the thought of those crazy things is what some days gets me through the hard times when I feel like having a gun permit, or choking a bitch or something.

So yeah, this may not be the happiest blog ever, but writing makes me feel better about things, so now that I've finished venting, I'll go spend the rest of my night playing some videogames and sleeping, Kingdom Hearts has been keeping me up late lately, it's a good game actually. I should replay it if I read this in some years.

viernes, 24 de septiembre de 2010

Contradictory contradictions

One of the perks of being a neurotic like myself is that you get to change your mind so many times a day that it's really unbelievable. For example, I practically fought 100 pirates and 100 ninjas to have some pie the other day, and then, while I was starting to eat it I just didn't feel like having it anymore.

The most important contradictions in my life however all happened when I was 17. But, before this story can be told I have to tell the back story first. I bet you've all been 17 or if you haven't you will be someday, so you should understand that well there are some relationships that have way more impact in your life. I've had three people changing my life for good, but for the sake of making the story short, I'll just say it that the one in question is the second. I've loved every single person I've been in a relationship with but after some heart breaks you get toughen up a little, and if you manage to end up a bitter 21 year old like myself and feel unable to open up entirely to someone again, then you know what I feel like, if not and you are one of those people that heart breaks do not phase them or you've never had your heart broken then this story is not for you.

I loved the way she felt so passionate about latin american literature, I loved the way she sang to Strawberry fields even though she wasn't in tune, I loved the way she hated her nose even though that was what I liked most about her, I loved walking aimlessly around town and getting thrown out of places we shouldn't be in. And I loved randomly walking into art exhibits.

Unfortunately, like most real stories that aren't filled with Unicorns not named Charlie, this one ends badly, it ends during prom actually, 2006. It feels like forever ago now, looking back on it, but that's why I am writing about it all, my memory hasn't been the most reliable one lately and there will come a time, when I'm having my midlife crisis when I'll want a subjective account of what happened the day before and after my high school prom 2006. Years after that we realized that neither of us was correct, like in all stories, we only knew our half of it, but the cliff notes version is that I have extreme commitment issues, not even commitment, it's more like fear of anyone ever becoming close to me because I feel like they'll leave me. So I do the only reasonable thing my brain finds reasonable and alienate everyone that comes close to me. Yeah, I know, I'm working on those issues now, but this is 2010, and that was 2006. And even today I am not completely over my issues, although at least I know I have them which is a point for me.

I hate how Latin American authors only talk about drugs, whores, ranches, corruption and the revolution, I hate that the heroes in Latin American histories are always the worse kind of people you can aim to be and I hate myself for being cheering for a prostitute that just faked her death and stole millions of dollars. I hate the Beatles and how everyone sings along without tune to their songs, I hate her nose and how we walked around town with nothing to do. I also hate how I feel every time I'm around her ever since which is not often I might add.

You know about those people that always try to end up in good terms? Yeah that's me and I am fooling myself and others when I say this, because no matter what happens, it's never the same, you can't return to that kind of friendship after the contradictions start.

Either way, this is the story about why I love to hate the Beatles, and the story about my Summer Finn, the girl that taught me that love is not imaginary and the girl that with the help of two others has made sure I don't open up to anyone else. But perhaps that's a story for another day.

jueves, 23 de septiembre de 2010

First day of the rest of my life

So everyone has one of those days, you know the ones when something important happens that you feel changed enough to say whatever the title of this entry says. Some people get these life turning event even twice, some others have them like twice a week whenever they have a slushy.

I quit my job today, it was my first job, and well, while at the beginning was exciting and I was learning awesome stuff, as time passed it became a chore, something dreadful that I didn't want to wake up to and something that I could always use as an excuse to be a jerk. "Oh sorry, I can't go out today, I have work :/". Yeah of course I felt truly bad when saying it, but not because I couldn't go out with said person but because I had to go to work.

I was happy today like I hadn't been since well... since work stopped being fun and started being something I pictured Satan torturing me with for stealing a pack of gum and an AC/DC ring during my "rebel" phase as a teenager.

It's weird, but I was happy today at work, maybe because I knew that it would end in a week from today when the month is over, I couldn't stand the thought of this perpetual underpaid limbo and once I could see the horizon it was like life was bright again.

I don't know what life has in store for me, I mean, life is usually good at shitting in people's faces, but I do know that it's not an eternity of that job, and today I've learned the most wonderful two words ever. I quit. Who would have known that if you didn't like something you could stop doing it? It sounds silly but people do things they don't like, all the time. And I'm serious, watching a parent struggle with a little snotty brat, watching an underpaid store clerk work cause he needs the money, or even those bimbos that marry those old guys that I imagine fall asleep during sex only for their money.

I'm a quitter today, and I'm damn proud of it.

So lesson of the day? Quitting is not for losers, quitting is for people that know they are not happy doing something they don't like. Quitting is for people who want to be happy, or at least not that miserable. Quitting rules!