martes, 4 de octubre de 2011

My fourteen year old self wants to kick me in the balls

The older I get and the earlier I have to wake up equal me going to bed earlier and wanting to sleep at 11 pm, I haven't slept at 11pm since I was 12 or 13... Seriously, getting older and working is doing serious damage to my youth.

lunes, 26 de septiembre de 2011

Pottermore: Holy Weazing Weasleys I'm a Slytherin?

Someone that knows me very well says it's right on, I didn't see it I thought I was a Ravenclaw for sure, but hey who am I to argue with the all mighty hat right? I may make another account later on to see if the result of the sorting is good. But for the mean time I'm a serpent.

Yes, I know, my thoughts are so dark and teddy bear suicide inducing that I was completely delusional to think I wasn't a Slytherin, but I still feel a bit weird. I need to carefully watch my life in retrospective now too see how this happened.

Sure, I may have the occassional murdering and self harming tsunami of thoughts, but any decent enough fiction writer has been there and done that. Trufax, if you aren't damaged you are not that good at writing it's a fact. The same for music and painting. I may be exaggerating a bit, but my favorite artists have always been the most damaged ones, Van Gogh, Munch, Nirvana, Metallica, Poe, Lovecraft. It's just what makes them great. Either way...

I am in the middle of an identity crisis right now...

domingo, 18 de septiembre de 2011

Self destructive tendencies align

So, what better way to cope with hating your current situation but having to act like everything is fine all of the time than drinking absurd amounts of alcohol, if there's a better way I have not heard about it yet. But yeah I spoke about it all last time and reading back I don't think I should expand on the already big subject. At least having money does kind of make up a bit for all the loathing.

Plus at the rate I'm acting I'm gonna need that money to pay to fix my liver, lol. Hey at least I have kept my sense of humor, and at least all this darkness is going to be useful as a reference for future chapters of my book, and I'm sure revisiting this time of my life will come in handy whenever I have to portray something similar, to be honest it's not something a lot of people can actually describe that well, so I guess in sort of a weird and ironically morbid way I can be considered lucky? The jury is still out on that one but I guess time will tell how the story goes, since there hasn't been a time machine invented yet and hence time is still strictly linear. It's a shame really.

You know, some people don't know what could possibly drive someone to actually put a shotgun to their mouths and pull the trigger, it's someone no one talks about, it's stupid. It happens, everyone has different points of view and well, to some preserving life no matter how miserable the being is isn't good. I guess you can tell in which side of the assisted suicide I'm in.

I guess that's why when in House he tells thirteen that when the time comes he'll kill her it's such a nice moment. I don't think people understand that, society in general is well known for not understanding misery. Perhaps if more of our leaders spent hardships in life they would be better rulers, I sure as hell know that you can't understand something unless you go through it.

It's actually pretty fucking stupid that people want their rulers to be someone that has never really had to deal with a personal problem. It surely is a good way to elect someone that won't know your necessities and that will most likely screw the fuck up. But humankind has never really been known for being that smart, or smart at all actually.

Life isn't fair, people are douches and happiness includes a really big and sometimes unbearable amount of suffering. So yeah, and people wonder why atheists exist, I'm agnostic though, I just think that God is a joker and not really benevolent at all, whenever anyone tells me about God's love and blah blah I just remind them of all the smitten characters in the old testament, or the unbelievably asshole-ish trials they had to endure, killing your own son? Really, God? I know he was all like, lolIwaskidding right before he actually did it, but it's still a really tasteless prank if you ask me.

So, summing it up, God's a jerk, people are stupid and naive, politicians are spoiled brats that haven't had an honest day of work in their entire lives and pain and suffering make for a good source for music, books and movies. Yep, that's my point of view as of today, and I doubt it will change anytime soon.

viernes, 16 de septiembre de 2011

Real late starter

Real Late Starter

I woke up late today
Actually I do that everyday
Got no place to be seen
I’m not part of a scene
I’m a genius loser
Keeping counsel with my own opinion
President of the state that I’m in
Should I just stay in bed?
Should I live in my head?
Oh God, so many questions to ask
Oh, you could call me lazy
I think of it as taking my time
‘Cos I don’t want to do what I don’t want to do
I’m the queen refusenik
But - oh my God – if I was somebody I’d be doing it all just fine
But I’m a real late starter
So I’m making up for lost time
Oh my God – if I was somebody you’d be kissing my arse right now
But I’m so polite – I do it all of the time
I missed my calling in life
Oh well.
Day by day I wonder
If I will be torn asunder
By these things that I know that nobody else knows
Or maybe it’s the drinking
I guess we should consult a Bible
Everybody needs a sign - or
Bless the birds and the bees
The flowers and trees
And blessed be the slacker
But - oh my God – if I was somebody I’d be doing it all just fine
But I’m a real late starter
So I’m making up for lost time
Oh my God – if I was somebody you’d be kissing my arse right now
But I’m so polite – I do this all of the time
I missed my calling in life
And you, must be having a laugh
Oh God – you’re having a laugh
No point in worrying if my day's a disaster
Inside my little head I’m happy ever after
Yes I am
Oh my God – if I was somebody I’d be doing it all just fine
But I’m a real late starter
So I’m making up for lost time
Oh my God – if I was somebody you’d be kissing my arse right now
But I’m so polite
I missed my calling in life
Oh my God – if I was somebody I’d be doing it all just fine
But I’m a real late starter
So I’m making up for lost time
Oh my God – if I was somebody you’d be kissing my arse right now
But I’m so polite – I do this all of the time
I missed my calling in life
Oooh – what of my life?
Yeah well.
By Nerina Pallot 

So, real late starter, I identify with this song today, why? Well, I think that working is selling a piece of my soul, sure I can act nice and get along with everyone else, but faking it till I make it isn't really the best option in life when you feel like everything you do is a disappointment to your true self and that you are only acting out because you need the money and because it saves you the trouble, it seems like everyone just forgets everything else when you get a job. It doesn't matter if you were suicidal last week, you have a job now, you can act happy, fuck it, as long as you can pretend that everything goes fine, we'll be happy, because what you want from life is too fucking complicated, so whatever, just be miserable under that smile because no one really gives a fuck about what you really want, all they give a fuck about is about what they think you should be doing and what you should be happy about. It's okay if the thought evokes a shotgun to your head, because you are settling for what everyone else in the world is doing, you are fucking normal.

There's no room for something that doesn't go with the norm, so what can I do? Well I drink, I mean if everyone else can just fucking look past all my insanity as long as I'm acting sane, then I can also do that right? It shouldn't be too hard, the fake sanity provides me with money I can use to keep myself pain free with the help of the magic liquid I like to call whiskey. Fuck it, it's more accepted that you are an alcoholic than if you don't conform to what society tells you, so yeah, you know what? Drink yourself senseless, that's what we like about you, you reach rock bottom, you put a smile on your face as always, you start acting and shit gets better for you. 

Because having principles and not wanting to conform to society's standards are not seen well, so yeah, just turn into a fucking slave, we'll give you money, you just buy pretty things and forget about your emotions and yourself. It is what we all do, we are so focused on shopping that what we really want gets forgotten, and many times it's not even something we can buy, it's something we have to focus on getting and that society just seems determined to stop it, and what if you have a personality that doesn't necessarily makes you confront other people? What if you just want to be happy and live your life and not care about everyone else? Well it's not allowed, then you don't get a job, you don't get money and that will sooner or later make you a faking smile zombie. 

I'm a fucking mindless zombie with a customer service smile that makes everyone think I'm the perfect specimen in the world when I'm really just too fucking weak to end it all with the pass of a fucking blade. I am pathetic, I should get myself rid of all this act so I wouldn't have to pretend again. 

What has all my fights and suffering been for? Uh? What? So that as soon as it's possible it gets forgotten because the act makes it seem like I'm cured? What the fuck is that? I'm not cured, I'm just too fucking pathetic to end it all and so I rather make everyone think it's okay to avoid trouble, and I smile and laugh and be all perfect, because I was taught to be perfect, but in reality, I'm just rotten and waiting for the darkness to take me away from here because I'm too much of nothing to do it for myself. I hate my situation, I hate it so much, I wish I was brave enough to just do it, fuck what everyone says about it, or my mom, she just doesn't want it because it's unfortunate for her, what about me? What about what I want?

I fucking hate it, I hate my situation, I hate my charade, I hate my life. I have to wake up in fucking three hours and be all smiles and charms and I just wish I was strong enough to not care about it and just end it, but I'm not, I'm weak, and I hate myself for not being able to put a stop to it. I know that I don't have what it takes to see it through, so what? A life of being miserable just to please others? No one supports it, why should I? I should end it, I hate what I have to do in order to get it, I hate myself. I hate my life, I just fucking hate life in general, and even though this sounds like the perfect good bye, it's not, because I fucking know I'm too weak to do something about it.

Cobain, he was brave, he knew what his life was turning into, something he didn't like and even though he loved people, he didn't want to really go through with it just to please them, but I can't fucking do it, I wish I could, I should just fucking get so high that I don't care what happens. or maybe start progressively so I get to a state where I simply don't care. And no one really knows about this because I say it once in all my life, and it fucking gets ignored as soon as it leaves my mouth. 

I know it's not easy, I know it's hard one everyone that I tell it too, but what the fuck? Why can't they realize that this is the hardest on me? Why is everyone so fucking selfish, they don't let me do my last resources but they don't really help me the way I need to be helped either... So what? I should just be miserable because it's easier on everyone else? Is the world really so fucked up? 

I fucking hate humanity, selfishness is their greatest asset. People are selfish by nature, they don't care about what others feel, they just care about themselves, if they cared about others they would have let me end it a long time ago, or even helped with it since I am so fucking pathetic. But no, society doesn't let you decide that even if it's what you really want, because life is the most sacred what fucking ever. They just haven't suffered enough and can't possibly comprehend what someone in another position is feeling.

Fuck, so just because I can fake a smile in front of a group of strangers I'm suddenly fucking cured? This is fucking ridiculous, where is the part where they ask me about how I feel about what I'm doing? So it doesn't matter that I feel like blowing my brains out? As long as people are fucking happy with my acting I can feel as shit as I can because no body cares. Fucking awesome.

I wish I could be like the great ones, Hemingway, Cobain, Van Gogh, those where brave men, to be able to stare at death right in the eyes and then go through with it, that's not being a coward, that's the fucking single greatest act of bravery I have ever seen. You can't possibly be alright in any condition, you know there's nothing after this, nothing after life, but nothingness beats being here feeling like the piece of human shit that you feel like, and you just fucking end everything. Not fucking caring about other people's selfishness.

If they truly cared about me, if they really thought about what I'm going through, they wouldn't ask me to act like this, like a happy person, if they loved me they would load the shotgun and help me press the trigger. That would be the real act of love, not all the things they say they do, they really just want to feel better themselves, it doesn't matter if I hate what I've become.

I hate myself, I hate that society has driven me to a point where I have to get a job and be normal because I can't go through with the alternative. Why am I so hesitant about the alternative? I don't really know, it would be some time of pain, yes but then it would be over. Is it because maybe I'm hopeful about a heaven? Even when all my logic tells me that there's no way a God exists? Because the only proof I need about the Godlessness is that I'm alive. If there was a God, I wouldn't have been born, as simple as that. So what is it about eternal darkness that has me so unsettled about dying?

It would be easier if I did believe in heaven, I would just fucking kill myself, splatter my brains all over the wall with a shotgun because I would know that there's a better place somewhere out there. But no, I don't think there's a God, which makes me just fucking afraid of what emptiness awaits my in my time of dying. Maybe the void would be nice, no feelings, no emotions, freedom.
I feel hopeless and suicidal but yet I fake a smile because people hate my thoughts, they hate the way I think, therefore they hate me, they just say they like me because they feel responsible. Responsibility has to end somewhere though. And I doubt anyone will ever read this, it's probably the darkest piece I've done, and it makes matters worse that there's a perfectly good knife in my night stand and I don't have the courage to use it. I fucking suck.

sábado, 3 de septiembre de 2011

Girl, interrupted

I know that I over react and understand things in an exaggerated way, I can't help it. The way I get mad is the worse one, I hope to find a way to get mad like regular people one day, in the mean time I'll continue to do what I do, absorb it and keep quiet. Ignore the problem, since this has been my solution to everything in my life.

Either way, she shouldn't have done that, I had spent days telling her to go with me and she didn't want to and in the end she ended up going with other people and then telling me not to get mad, it's not like I want her romantically, because I don't, but I don't have many friends anymore and I don't know. I take these things seriously, if I say I'll do something with someone I do it. It's just, I don't know, I know I am over reacting, but no one really wants to see it with me, and I just wished that shooting stars would work.

Damn Disney.

The greek gods gave me eyebags

Since I have to blame someone for the development of the eye bags that my glasses fortunately conceal, I am blaming Zeus and all his cool deity pals, why? Well because the muses have been visiting me lately from 1 am to 5 am, and it's not even one of those sexy time visits like Borat would put it, it's more of a how insane can I get my story to be visits. But whatever, it's alright.

The past two days, as I wander through day time without a single goal except to reach night time so I can write, I've wondered over my issues and surrender seems like the obvious choice, that way my eye bags won't matter, nor will it matter if I eat a white chocolate brownie covered with ice cream and caramel, but no, my mind isn't really letting me quit, despite my tendencies to run away from the world and live inside my own mind, I can't do that.

Perhaps some concealer will help whenever I get contacts, yes make up, I hate eye bags, they make you look like a zombie, and not even a good looking zombie, a malnourished zombie that hasn't eaten fresh meat in months. Yes, I don't care about what people say, I haven't for a long time.

Though to be honest, I haven't really discussed much of what I want to discuss with everyone, I don't care what they think, but I also hate confrontations and drama and it's bound to happen. So yeah, even though I have been over it with some people, I am not looking forward to the future right now. I need a job, so I can get some booze every night and sleep well, and yes I know how that sounds, when I read this in ten years I'll either be worse, or think of this as rock bottom. But fuck it.

I doubt anyone even reads this, which is my journal since I apparently can't write in physical form much, my handwriting is a bunch of hieroglyphics anyway. In other news, Chapter 9 of my novel is done, and I am happy about the way the story is shaping up. It's interesting, it ties in with things I like and I can make use of a lot of my knowledge about trivial stuff, it's kind of cool when I think about it. Can't wait for it to be finished, 50,000 words already, only 30,000 for it to be novel material and I don't think I'll have a problem with that. Plus I already have ideas for other two stories and a fun and not intrusive way to interlace them with each other and pop culture.

For whenever I read this someday, you are a pussy, your life is in the limbo, except for the book, all because you don't know how to handle it, just decide something already and go with it, either way december is going to come and it's going to be worse.

viernes, 19 de agosto de 2011

On acting and living like a rockstar

If someone truly knew me they would tell you that in few words, my greatest skill is perhaps acting, standardized tests are a gift, but acting I had to learn. It's actually not all that difficult for me to appear to be someone I'm not and get in character, the problem is that I hate pretending to be someone else.

I've never had a lot of fights in my life, though the ones I've had I have an even record, one I lost, one I won by knock out, one the kid was a wuss and orchestrated a retreat to look like a winner and got only figured out later, and the last real fight I've been in I didn't want to fight because I didn't know what the fuck was happening and I simply avoided the punches and stopped the guy from acting like a fool. So yeah, not the worse record, but that's because I've learned to act since I was a young kid, truth was that back then I didn't know what I know now. Fortunately I changed schools often and if there's one good thing about change is that it offers new starts.

So if I did something wrong in my last act, I'd clean it up for the new one and so on, it's a handy method to be honest, I think everyone does it although I think I do quite well at it, but in the end it's just a disguise to be more comfortable on a daily basis, the truth is that I've lost quite a lot of myself along the way and getting it back its not as easy as I thought.

Lately I just don't really know if the whole act is worth it, I know everyone does it and I know it would help me get a job and blah, blah, blah, but I don't know, I think that it's better to be able to look at myself in the mirror. Anyway, I'm starting to babble right now, and no one really wants that.

domingo, 24 de julio de 2011

Not as smart as I think I am

How to know if you have no standards:

1. You go to the liquor cabinet

2. You stare at this reaaaaally bad tequila bottle and say to yourself: "this tequila looks awful, I wonder just how awful it is"

3. Then you drink half the bottle while saying: "Yes, this tequila is definitely the worse tequila I've ever tasted, I wonder if it gets better as I get more drunk"

4. The answer is, no, it doesn't

viernes, 15 de julio de 2011

Instant Gratification

I think one of the wrong things with our generation is all the prizes and awards everyone hands out, I'll admit I may have been above average in some things while growing up, but getting awards only does more harm in the end. Everyone congratulates you for everything that the system awards for, which increases each year, more and more prizes, awards, titles, everyone is able to excel at something, no matter how bizarre and useless it is.

Now with Facebook, Twitter and the web, everyone expects everyone else to congratulate you on whatever thing you did online today, and everyone else does so, because they expect that in return you will congratulate them for whatever it is they will do next. I think the only thing this does is make us think we are better than we really are, and make us conformist and prideful and overall full of shit. I can honestly say that I don't really care about all the awards I've received, at the end of day they are a piece of paper and have no influence in my skills or my overall happiness.

I see however other people of my generation obsessing over getting recognized for their work, or for whatever it is they do. I don't know, I do what I do not to be recognized, just because I like to do it and I want to do it. It's personal for me, when I write, or when I draw it's for me, not to get a pat on the back and a cookie.

I think instant gratification is something that corrupts people because most people are not taught how to deal with it, they are just taught that they are better than they really are which is not good for them in the long run, it just makes it harder for everyone as they grow up to find something that makes you feel as good about yourself as you felt in your youth and leads to an increase of unhappiness, and well you know what? I think that the people that obsess over it get what they deserve at the end of the day.

lunes, 11 de julio de 2011

What crawls into bed (short story)

Can't close my eyes. If I close them I don't know what will happen, I've never believed in monsters, robots or anything coming out of the collective unconscious, I guess I'm too smart to believe in those sort of things. Being smart however sometimes doesn't leave anything good behind, it takes a lot more to make someone happy, or to bring them peace of mind.

I remember my great grandma, no one ever talked about it, but I knew, I could tell because whether I like it or not I was the same as her. There are many terms, I used to think the old woman was just crazy, she mistook people, places and was always completely extroverted in a way that made people notice her. Perhaps she was crazy, but for some reason even if I couldn't see a method to her ways, she could understand things better than most. I don't know if she was so smart that no one could understand how she seemed to know everything or if she was just delusional, but she even predicted her own death.

I do believe in death, and somehow, she was able to take a peak in the list. That has to count for something, even if I doubt she could tell I was her great grandson most of the time. She lived in her own world created from her mind, and I used to think that was her choice, she simply grew bored of reality and made her own. I'm not so sure anymore.

I can't close my eyes. I hear them crawling, everything, every muscle moving, every sound I shouldn't hear. I can see them in the dark, approaching, moving, lurking. Not only that, but I know what happens when you are not aware, when you are defenseless. When you are outside and not watching your back.

I remember walking into a cemetery to visit my grandma, I didn't even knew her, so when everyone expected me to feel sorry for her death I didn't know how to react. Hell, now years later, my grandpa's second wife died, I did know her and I still couldn't feel the same grief that everyone else seemed to ask of me. I've never been good at dealing with death, I am aware of it, I know it's after all of us, I guess I will just know when it's my time. The problem is, there are way worse things than death. So I'm at this cemetery, I can't feel grief but my childish mind is afraid of the dead. My mom, she looks at me and tells me. "Son, it's not the dead you need to be afraid of, it's the living"

I think that's the day I stopped getting scared of horror movies, I stopped having nightmares about monsters coming out for me, I saw monsters for what they were, but it also triggered something else. That constant feeling of being watched, everywhere, all the time. Your mind playing tricks, the shadows moving in the dark, the sounds of things that are not there, haunting me.

Bugs, crawling up my bed, strangers following me home. I can see them all the time, hear them, never letting go. I start to live in my imagination, because if you are the only one that can hear or see something, does that mean it doesn't exist? If something doesn't exist how can it have an effect on someone? Isn't that how monsters came to be in the first place? They say that the greatest minds are usually the most cursed ones as well. Most geniuses would be deemed insane by any psychologist.

I just know that closing my eyes means they win, they get me in my dreams, and it's way worse than anything they can do to me while awake. My consciousness protects me of the perils of my mind, what happens at night? Where no one can hear you scream. It's hell. But my eyes can't hold on for longer, and I can already feel the presences around me, they know I'm about to let go. And I do.

Writing spree

I don't know why I like to write in english even though my native language is spanish, I think it's just that it sounds better coming out of my mouth, it's more ambiguous, lets a writer add more mystery to a story, no gender specific multiple meaning for words and a lot more word play than other languages.

Perhaps considering myself a writer would be arrogant of myself, I don't know. I know I can't really see myself doing something other than writing for too long, in the end everything bores me, but this, I can hardly get bored. I've never been that good at speaking, I stutter when I'm too nervous and I speak too quickly. I remember when I was 13 I was almost forced into a public speaking competition, that was embarrassing. I can't memorize full speeches or songs for that matter, I don't know why I can't say something word to word and if I try I fuck up trying to construct everything in my mind.

Same goes for singing, I've had to sing for people few times in my life, one in a stage it was a rap about environment, yes, it was that bad. It was for school, the second time it was also for school, but I could choose a song and I chose Hemorrhage by Fuel and sang a Capella.

To understand my fear of public singing, my family and friends aren't that supportive, I'm not that bad for karaoke night or rock band, but they make it seem as if puppies die when I try to sing a tune. So I closed my eyes and sang for everyone, with my eyes closed, my classmates liked it, said I was pretty good. Either way, I fucked up the lyrics.

When writing I am encouraged to just establish what is on my mind, and I don't have the pressure of speaking, needless to say, I'm way better at it. When I write I can correct myself before anyone notices, I can add things wherever I want regardless of how advanced I am at it. And some days I have the inspiration of a thousand goddesses and can write for long periods of time.

I shall try to make it into the writing world, probably not in spanish, everything I write in it sounds fake and forced. I love the language, I love my country, I just can't express myself the way I'd like to with it. Also, i remodeled the blog to make it look less paranoid schizophrenic without any art skills, it was good for a while, but I needed something fresh. Like this.

Peace, and keep happy.

jueves, 30 de junio de 2011

Lorem Ipsum

Weird day today, I got asked in a date, got a smoothie, was awkward for a while, but I think it was overall ok. I need to break out of the routine of writing, thinking, pills and sleeping, so in that aspect I think it was positive. I am noticing though, that I'm no longer getting nervous at some events the way I used to, it's part of the dehumanization I was experiencing previously I guess, but I don't know. I guess it wasn't so bad.

Seeing red, roaches and shadows following me for the last week, it's not the best, but I manage. This is going to be a short one. I don't know as a kid I remember being able to talk to adults and other people my age with relative ease, I can't seem to do that anymore. I can't really relate to people that well, and my interests are too specific I don't know, I feel like I'm one of a kind.

I can't remember much from my childhood, mostly I remember pictures from that time, disneyland, old house, parents, relatives that are dead now. I can't recall that part of my life anymore. And now, I can't recall part of my nights, too much alcohol, I know I should stop it, but it provides a good escape, not remembering is better than feeling like I feel most of the time, though lately I've been acting stupid, I don't know if it's worthy anymore.

I've been making progress with therapy, and in my daily life, but I don't know if it will be enough. I hope it is, I still can't picture myself turning 30, I've never been able, lots of people have their lives all planned out, I've never been able to plan farther ahead than my 30's, I don't know what that means, but it sure isn't anything good. I hope it's not foretelling.

lunes, 13 de junio de 2011

Memoires of an awesome japanese word

Sometimes it's hard to identify what you are feeling, it happens often to me. I remember being young and sort of just being there, I've always had a hard time giving second chances, it's one of those things that I just can't do. I guess that I don't really believe someone can actually change. It may something to do with the fact that it takes a major event to cause an effect big enough to change a person for good and unless someone knows of that which is pretty rare you will assume that everything remained constant and therefore that people haven't changed.

I was a smart kid, and I've always been unconventional, I don't like to be like everyone else. I sense people with positive points of view and people with negative ones, when I was little I could sense them in my two families, my mom's side well, they pretty much use negative criticism to try and affect someone, while my dad's side are the opposite, so as I grew up I learned to do the opposite of what my mom's side wants and follow advice of my dad's side, even though at personal level I trust my mom more than my dad.

It's weird, but I remember many instances, conversation I had with my cousin before she fucked up her life, another case of not giving second chances. I guess that's going to come back to haunt me at some point. I have had the chance to get to know the negative side lately, I understand everything better now though I don't know, regressions from my childhood keep coming to me. They've always considered me strange, unlike them, as if I'm not part of the family, not really anyway.

That's the feeling I've always got, I get criticized about everything I do, which makes me want to do it even more, I don't think they understand psychology that much to be honest. I don't know how my mom didn't get those criticism traits, or I guess we took them away from her, I don't know.

All I can say is that I have to change some of the things I say because some of them remind me of that, you learn by example, even things you don't want, it's funny the shit you have that you don't want. I have a lot of that. Plenty actually, I think that's a big part of my therapy session, which should be in like 6 and a half hours. Though I have other things in my head lately, I may talk about them here, though not yet, I need to clear up everything first. I should write about courage later, because it's been all through out my life and I haven't pinned down the moment it actually started.

Most people, they don't think like I think, they have a subject, or an opinion and they live their day, and they go unaware, they think about the present, or they think about the future, but mostly they think about themselves, I think about many things, I do introspection, imagine, think about subjects far too complicated, I don't think about the things that usually people like to think about.

It has it's flaws, naturally. But well, I don't know, I'm hoping for writing for a living eventually, which is something that could be done, nothing like this, these are my pure thoughts, the inner core, the things I will read in some years and think that I was naive and young. This has no plot, no goal, it's like most latin american literature, it lacks a point.

I will write stories, my childhood, with all its flaws and everything that happened has shaped me, I like to write things that say something, that entertain, that people will be able to read and be amazed at, fall in love with characters, imagine a new world with all I want them to think about. I don't want them to think about their shitty lives, an Egyptian cat or corrupt politicians, only self assured fools think this is the literature that people want to read. I aim to thrill.

This, has been my day, it ended with me writing after midnight, I know what moves me to do so, it's a different type of depression, not the paralyzing one, but the one that makes you want to have an imaginary world where everyone accepts your ideas and your thoughts no matter how obscure or twisted they are. That's what artists do, writers, painters, actors, we all share something, our souls have pieces that if not directed towards art people would find threatening.

If you talk about a double homicide and the ways you would get away with it people would think you were a creep, but if you write about it, people think you are just an artist. Artists are lucky to have a talent to let these thoughts flow out. That why the world always progresses through the liberal, the artists, the free thinkers, they express the thoughts that others cannot and it allows them to have a more open mind, to not conform to society, to fight against the current way of thinking.

I believe that more people should be artists, though complete artists, not the ones that follow orders and call what they do art, that's not being an artist and it's certainly not art, just because something has beauty, like ballet, doesn't make all the dancers artists, only the ones that make the routines and that learn to think and express through the dance. I know many dancers that are not free thinkers, only the ones that think through the dancing are the ones that I could certainly call artists.

This last comes obviously from all the artists and make believe artists that have entered my life, I can see many of them debating my points of view. Which is why I love to be an artist, as long as you express through words, you can't hear people telling you off. Always ask why, that's the most important question. All of the others are never as important.

viernes, 27 de mayo de 2011

Getting published

So, my first story to get published. It's a good feeling, I'm not totally lazy and a failure at everything and this sort of proves it, I still have to finish a novel though, the first one is still on the making, I just haven't had time to work on it lately, its been hectic on my part, for being unemployed I sure do have a lot of workish things to do, it's insane.

I'll finish it, I started redoing it when I didn't feel like it was up to my standards and I've been happy with the chapters I've written so far, some of my best stuff I think. I've been practicing on my writing skills and story telling for three years though, so I'm glad it's paying off.

The story itself got published just in some libraries nationwide, but hey, I am not picky right now, when the apocalypse comes there will be some knowledge for me to pass down to whoever is left by the zombies to read it. And I plan to increase that contribution to the global knowledge, somehow, even if I have to publish this never finishing story myself, which thanks to the internet might not be that difficult if it comes to it.

So another prize for my endless award record, which really doesn't do much since it's not like they give you a job based on how many awards you have, or you can't exchange them for happiness or anything, so at the end of the day they just prove they just mean you are good at something that most people don't give a shit about.

lunes, 2 de mayo de 2011

Pills, Pills, Pills.

I think I may just have justified the entire existence of a science department in everywhere I know. The depression pills upgraded version are working better than the last ones, but the real magical voodoo pill is the sleeping pill which has effectively regulated my sleeping schedule in like a week. I can't remember the last time I slept like this for this long but it's gooooooooooooooooooooood, actually there are not enough o's in this world to express just how good is my sleeping at the moment.

Look at me it's 12:30 and my eyes are closing and asking me to go to bed. Oh yes, I've effectively made Morpheus my bitch, and not the Matrix one, the Sleep God. It's like unicorns farting rainbows but in my head, I still feel kind of weird but I am not sleeping at 6 am everyday anymore.

Lalalalalalala, happiness.

Regular people take sleeping for granted, it's one of the most under rated things since m&m's. I shit you not.

viernes, 8 de abril de 2011


It's been about a month since I relapsed, happiness didn't last long about a week or two, it's April now, I feel like time is running out, however the relapse came bearing symptoms it seems cause even though I had only had auditory hallucinations and minor ones at that, a week ago I had a strong visual one, I was at the stadium with a friend and I hallucinated a goal, the cheering and the score and everything, it was fucking weird, I came out thinking the game had ended one way when it had ended another.

The doc says it's natural, though I think he's being optimistic, so, symptoms get worse and I go worse along with them, I'm not liking it, it's like losing a part of myself inside myself, which is completely absurd. Anyway, I've been learning about html coding for websites lately, as well as making graphics for a writing site, ideas keep on coming and going like crazy, you know what my mind is like, a hive of random aleatory thoughts residing and making me not sleep.

I go from one thing to the next in a heart beat, I can't find a purpose, I just feel like I'm drifting away. I need to find a purpose otherwise I'm afraid the relapse could be permanent. I need to find a constant to keeping me sane and depression free, where is that constant? I used to be great at math, not so much anymore, but I remember being able to solve almost any equation, I wish it were that simple.

Purpose in the form of a mathematical equation, it would have only one or several correct answers. I don't even know what sort of result I'm searching for, a number, a place, a person, it could be anything. Then there's always the chance of the answer to my purpose equation being an imaginary number in order to solve for a real problem, which would of course mean that I'm screwed.

There's a song that I like, it's called the trick to life, it says that the trick to life is to not get too attached to it. Maybe it is right, I don't know, I only know there's something wrong with me and I need to find a way to fix it before it's done too much damage.

lunes, 14 de marzo de 2011

Nude Anne Hathaway

Not really, though that involves some of thinking for today's entry. It's been one week and three days since I've had depression free days, this is the  first time I've been out of it since October, therapy had something to do, though I feel like it's gonna go eerie some time soon.

Either way, after seeing that love, drugs and other addictions movie I came to realize something, a reason about maybe why it's hard for me to fall in love as of... well as of lately and ever. I can seem to be able to stop doing whatever other people consider an addiction rather easily, I just stop and I think the same happens with Love, other people they avoid certain actions and feelings because the addiction tells them they need someone, or affection at least. Not me, I don't really need it, it's good for a while, but whenever something I don't like happens I can stop it any time, it's rather complicated I guess but I don't know I feel like there's something to this.

In other news my sleeping pattern has been more than messed up lately, I haven't been able to sleep before 5 am, the doc says it's because I think too much, which to be honest is one of the reasons I keep blogging all I am thinking at the moment, I just write everything here in hopes it doesn't keep me up at night, though it doesn't seem enough. At least I now exactly why I can't fall asleep with strong anti-insomnia pills but I can with booze. Which is good.

Anyway, like always, not sleeping well has been making my head feel a little crowded today, which sucks because it doesn't let me think straight, nor write and I've been in a good mood for writing lately. This crowded feeling is the best I can do to describe the sensation, it just feels like Wall street living in my head, though not exactly pain per se, just a sensation.

And before I go, someone in the house has something making a repetitive noise that if it doesn't stop it's gonna find it's way up someone's ass. Not in the fun way either.

viernes, 18 de febrero de 2011


It's been 7 months since I've started sinking, it's never been so long before. It's gone to a point where I can't really remember what it felt to not be in the shithole anymore. I can remember happiness I can remember the top hits, I just can't remember how they felt, it's all faces and sounds.

Happiness is more of a concept rather than an emotion as of late, and well after watching a movie today I realized I need to do something, get out of here, start something I like and meet someone new, make a great comeback. The only problem is that I can't, I find myself unable to get out of here, there have been some girls I've been interested in just asking out and I just, don't find it worth it anymore.

Too much trouble for a relationship that is going to end badly anyway, the chances of finding someone that tolerates me without an unhealthy obsession to just agree to everything I say without a common sense are as low as the chances of finding true randomness in Newtonian physics.

I don't have a passion anymore. I need to find the thing that gets me my life back, unfortunately, I don't know how to do that, it's like a horcrux that can't be found, you don't know what it's gonna be, or where it is, or even how you are going to get it, you just know that you need to get to it to be able to finish the story.

Seven months, it feels like fucking ever.What's gonna happen? A year ago I wouldn't have pictured this, on a fucking pill diet, with the complete psychological history chart I have on my family now. All the lying, the acting, and I don't even feel bad about it. I manipulate everyone around me, people that care about me, and I don't even feel bad about it, I'm more than broken, I'm rotten. Let's hope I don't rot everything else around me.

miércoles, 16 de febrero de 2011

Love's not a competition, but I don't care either way

My teenage years were branded by what I used to call my curses, to be honest maybe they were just creepy and evil figments of my imagination. Probably, lately I've been questioning most of the things I used to believe in, it's like trying to finish a 12,000 piece puzzle except it's not 3d and you've been thinking it's 3d for most of the time and you just realized your mistake.

I'm rambling, though if you are any used to reading me you'd know by now that these collection of random and sometimes incoherent thoughts are not meant to make any sense. They are meant to serve as a guide to my past and also to my future.

Anyway, when I was I don't know, 12 maybe, Valentine's day was a big deal for me. I was a promiscuous kid, I started dating at age 11, and other stuff pretty early on too. I guess that's what I get for always hanging out with people from 1 to 3 years older than me, when I was 11 all my friends were 13 some even 14. So naturally when I was 13 they were 15 or 16 and well everyone knows what 16 year old kids do and don't do. But anyway more details on my promiscuity can be found through out all this mess of a blog, that's not what matters today.

So yeah, Valentine's, the one day of the year where everyone reminds you of your singleness, either that or they scam you into spending a lot of money. I haven't had many relationships though enough so that you need both hands to count them, and for some reason none of them had ever synchronized with Valentine's dinner except the last one. So despite all previous experiences I knew my relationships wouldn't last to february, but this last one started in february and I've learned to act enough to maintain a relationship at least past the two month mark. My problem being that I'm bored in relationships, when the I becomes we, you have to compromise half of your personality, and I've never been that good at that. My healthiest relationship was with a girl that used to say yes to everything I wanted, I broke it up when she started wanting me to say yes as well. Hey whatever, I know I'm selfish, I don't care.

The point is that I can rewind to all my relationships and know when I felt it coming, that moment where I felt like losing the I. I call it being a symbiote, you remember Venom from Spiderman? We are venom, we like to eat your brains, we love pain. God, I don't wanna be a we, I'm very happy being an I.

What I was going with this is that my curse was being alone for valentine's except that time with Heather, to be honest that was a long distance thing and it taught me not to be a moron, it also taught me that it doesn't matter if you are 11 or 20 being lied to and cheated stings like a bitch.

So last Valentine's I was actually happy, one of my curses had broken. I wasn't alone in Valentine's, I wasn't going to die without having a Valentine's day the proper way. This isn't an irrational fear by the way, I've always known I'll die young, I don't know how, or why, or when. Most likely due to my diet. But anyway, what I learned about that Valentine's day is that everyone wants to become a Symbiote. It's sad really, "Who is he?" "Oh he's her boyfriend". How sad is this? They have successfully removed your individualization, not to mention, automatically you have new friends and new family members, which can be good. But let's face it, I have to try real hard to give a crap about my own family and friends, so a mask begins, the mask that likes everyone of her friends, that enjoys stupid musicals, that likes fancy dinners and dressing properly, that doesn't watch sports. I hate that guy, not that he's whipped, he wouldn't answer orders or fake liking stuff just because, but he puts up a face of a champ and acts just to keep that feeling of closeness to the other person.

What I mean with this is that this was my first Valentine's after the break up and I didn't feel a thing, growing up I felt the need to be like everyone else, to get that experience, you know the movie one. After having it, I'm glad I'm single, I didn't think for one second about Valentine's nor about a girl actually. It felt good, sometimes turning into a robot doesn't feel all that bad you know? Sure, you slowly lose your ability to feel stuff, but it's not that bad, at least this way you know that if you screw up it's just your life that you fuck up. There's no one there to get mad or tell you off.

The second curse? Well that was just running into an old girlfriend that I hate each Halloween, talk about a witch huh? Thankfully that curse broke when I went to Texas for a year. Now I'm not cursed anymore, which is always a nice thing.

I'm not saying that Love is all that bad, it's good when you have it, I'm just saying that sometimes I don't think I'm the kind of guy that can care for others as much as he cares about himself. And I won't end up like my parents, there's no point.

Also, I learned something new that has me thinking about lots of things again, I'll have to tell the docs when I see them. Just when you think the only thing you have to worry about is turning into a fucking Black Swan, it turns out you also need to watch out to not turn into Veronika. There's a saying that states that things always turn worse before they turn better, so I should have seen this coming.

martes, 8 de febrero de 2011


I started this blog, not for anyone to read, although if someone does I don't really care, it was supposed to be a way to write down memories as I start forgetting parts of my past. Then it became a good place to vent about the things in my life that make it not work for me at the moment. Now though, it feels as if somehow I'm documenting the loss of what little mental sanity I had.

Everyone does stuff they shouldn't, but the more I look back the more I realize how messed up I am, I don't regret anything, well maybe a couple of things but for the most part even though I know I've done some pretty bad things I can live with it. It's not like I've killed anyone, although I've met people that have killed and somehow it just made me lose what little respect I had left in religion.

I've been going to therapy, I've actually opened up like I've never before and well, it's not working like I thought it would. So far all I've proven is that I'm slowly losing my interest in society, that I feel like I'm better than other people, not in the sense that I'm smarter, or stronger nor anything like that, only that I can see life differently, people are so... caged by their reality that they fail to see what really matters.

I've been doing some thinking into my past, it started at age, I don't know, probably 13. The first time I dreamed about something and then saw it happen. It happened some times, once at school before I met a girl, once in a party with people I never knew, at the beach looking at a street sign, and some other times. I used to think maybe there was a connection with the future, it started my interest in both physics and parapsychology.

The good thing about the internet is that if a group of different people with strange beliefs wants to, they can meet online and form a community. That's the same with psionics, though this term may be weird for anyone not in the field. It's sort of like mind powers. I really thought I had them, for more than two years. Eventually though, I started seeing people there for who they were, people like me wanting to believe too much they were special. Some really believed it, I'm sure of it, thinking back to that time it was like the paradise of delusions. I got tired, mostly because I truly believed I had it, and because the rest of them were just... Unbelievably delusional.

I still think sometimes that I have something going on, I remember a time I heard something that no one else heard and it lead to us avoiding a terrible crash, or my ability to score high in standardized tests despite not knowing the answers. Though I don't know, I've been reading enough about psychology lately that perhaps it's all really in my head, which ain't good considering the time that has passed.

I'm probably getting ideas into my head, I'm overthinking everything, I haven't really slept that well lately, and I just feel like I'm sinking. I feel as if I'm on a ship, everyone else around me died from lack of supplies, there's a storm, I don't have a compass, it's night and I have to feed on the others to survive. I wished that was an overstatement.

Whatever, I'll keep on working on therapy and see what comes up, I'll try not to think about delusions, hallucinations, and one flew over the cuckoo's nest. Most of the times when you expect something horrible it's not as bad as you think right?

I should try sleeping, and distract myself with something other than videogames, I've tried to pause my life, I don't feel ready to go at it, not at this state anyway, but it doesn't really wait for anyone. I just wished I had superpowers sometimes, make everything stop.

I don't wanna sink, but I'm not really fighting the storm, nor is there any life savers around me that I can see. The worse is that everyone around me is just so concerned and I can see the pity in their faces. I guess it's good though, I don't know where I would be right now if I didn't have people around watching over so I don't do anything stupid, I would probably be homeless and a drunk or something of the sorts.

Also, watching Black Swan at this point in my life probably wasn't the best idea I've ever had.

lunes, 7 de febrero de 2011

Follow Jesus

So, I got told today in the street, "Follow Jesus", and my mind started laughing. Seriously, that is really poorly phrased, I mean, follow him where? He is dead, the only way I could follow him now is by shooting my brains out and quite honestly I doubt I would go to heaven if there is such thing.

I've always disliked people pushing beliefs down other people's throats, I respect every religion and every train of thought, but that doesn't mean I want people to fucking attack me with doctrines and other stuff. I am way too old for this shit.

If you are one of those people that never ask why and that just follow what others tell you to do, then I guess it's alright, but for people with free thinking it's something that will never be right. I should start a campaign, in favour of everyone shutting their pie holes and trying to modify what other people believe in.

The, I don't give a shit campaign. "Hey, vote for this guy" "Hey, become Jewish" "Hey, come to a tea party", you know what, no, fuck you. Let me be my own person, stop trying to manipulate me to be who you think I should be. The only person allowed to decide what I should think is me.

And this is my random thought of the day.

lunes, 31 de enero de 2011

Catch 22

If I think I am delusioned, but I'm not, then I am delusioned, but I wouldn't be delusioned because my delusion would be true.
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Art versus life

So, as I've become more cynical and less aware of social norms. Dark humor has been increasingly entering my life, it's just, something I do to cope with the fact that I feel like something is deteriorating in me, I use humor to shadow the fact that I can't really empathize with people.

Yesterday I was out of line, apparently, and it got me wondering the difference between artistic genius and mentally disease people, I could find none, many artists have been like this. As long as you make a book, painting, movie or song about the dark themes you have inside, people consider you great they even give you awards. But if you simply talk about it you get told to go to therapy.

Art, to me, is the possibility to express yourself without people judging you of insane.

I went to the psychologist today, I may have schizoid personality disorder, it's still diagnosing, but well. I don't know, knowing that I may only be some hallucinations away from being schizophrenic have me a bit disturbed at the moment.

People are weirded out by me at the moment, I see it every time I go out, I see it with my family, they look at me like I'm some sort of dangerous psychopath ready to stab them with a kitchen knife, or as if I could just down a bottle of pills and get an OD any time. That's the worse part, I don't really care about their feelings, but I am not insane and it's the looks that I hate.

Who knows, I could just write what I feel and make a character feel that and people would think I'm creative rather than insane. Seriously, society has a lot of issues. If you are a soldier and kill someone innocent during war, you are a hero, if you kill someone guilty during peace, you get the chair. I hate double standards, if what I feel is part of a character's psyche, or it's a song, then I'm awesome, if I joke about it during a conversation I'm crazy.

It's bullshit.

God, I feel like a psychology student could make their thesis about this blog. It's a good way to vent though, people don't usually understand when you tell them this, they only freak out, they don't know better. They can't tell the difference from insane to genius. Maybe there's none, maybe to be a genius you have to be insane.

domingo, 30 de enero de 2011

Identifying problems

I'm not by any means a psychologist, I am though, very good at identifying problems the roots and everything. That's how I got diagnosed GAD, I noticed the symptoms and went to the Psych unit. Which by the way is near pediatrics and made giggle at  the ironies of life. Though dark humor has gotten me enough trouble today so I probably have to stop it in social situations.

Now however, my anxiety has stopped the panic attacks as well, it's good, I've been free of it for months, but the depression wasn't going away, I started looking into it. It wasn't depression so much as not wanting to go out with my friends, or meet new people or do anything really, except when drunk. Which may be why I like it, I am not an alcoholic but I could certainly go down that path if I'm not careful. I thought it was just depression, until I started noticing that something else happening with me lately could also be a symptom.

I'm becoming a cold bitch, and I mean that in the worse possible way, I am not only cynical, but I don't care and can't empathize with anyone it's like turning into a robot. It sucks, you can't be happy for anyone, or sad, or nothing. Which yeah, make me be able to be completely impartial, but suck when I don't know.. someone dies or something. The only things that bring me joy or sadness are linked to me.

I do spend an awful lot of time writing and in a fictional world and apparently when grouping all my special traits that I thought just made me excentric, I get an awfully close aproximation to what wikipedia tells me is Schizod personality disorder. I haven't gone to therapy in months, mainly because I was busy and well... I thought I could work out on my problems on my own. But I think I have to go again, I don't want to become a robot.

It's basically schizophrenia minus the psychotic elements like delusions or hallucinations, what I don't like is that it's been increasing in me at an alarming rate over the last past year. I'll see what the doc says, I don't wanna be right, but unfortunately for me, most of the time I am, at least when it comes to this stuff.


martes, 25 de enero de 2011

Of GAD and other aflictions

You know, usually when you talk to someone it's hard for them to empathize mainly because they've never been in your shoes, or gone through anything similar to what you've gone through, which is why, many people, fall in love with others that are able to understand them better than the rest.

Maybe it is because my life is filled with quasi filmical moments that I find it so hard to relate to other people, I'm told I'm a great listener. Mainly because I've gone through so much shit and weird situations, I know I'm impartial since I'm me, but I feel like I've gone through more than a lot of people.

Relationship wise it's a no brainer, I've dated mentally unstable, cheaters, possibly drug addicts, nice normal girls, pathological liers, I've fallen in love with my best friend and I've had long distance relationships, I've done multiracial relationships too, I haven't gone out that much, but I have a pretty clear understanding of the subject. I'm also a divorce kid, I've had many people close to me die, I've had problems with family. I've traveled, I've been sick, way too much, psychologically and physically, I've been close to death twice now.

My point is, I have many issues, way too many, it's hard for me to actually bond with someone, which is why I've stopped trying, as reflected in my previous post. Also, well, my GAD has been advancing lately, and while I don't have the anxiety I had before, which is good, depression hasn't really dissipated that much.

Suicide thoughts are not new to me, I've had them on and off for some time now, though it's nothing that grave, I never really go through with any of them. But lately I don't wanna go out, I don't wanna meet with my friends, I don't really want to do anything. It's also hard for people to understand because they haven't gone through it, they just look at you like you are crazy and are really condescending. I hate condescending people, if you don't know what someone is going through then say so, don't be fucking condescending it just makes it worse.

On top of that I've had the worse insomnia lately, I can't sleep before 5 am... My anxiety has improved, yes, a lot, but the rest of it it's just taking over me faster than anything. Thankfully I have a friend that I can relate with, she's in another continent though, which sucks.

I've been thinking about a story lately, about a schizophrenic woman, it's sort of really weird and full of gore and other things, but perhaps it's a reflection of my psyche lately. I don't know... Some days I feel like I'm going crazy. The feeling that you are alone in the world and that you won't ever connect keeps roaming around my head. I don't want pity though, nor listen to fucking emo music. God, how I hate emo music, I just need to find my constant.

Where is my constant?

lunes, 24 de enero de 2011

The meaning of life

You are born, you eat, you shit, you fuck and then you die, leaving your children to repeat the process over and over again until a meteorite kills us all and cockroaches start talking. That's life, the rest of it consists in an endless competition to see who shits more, eats more and who dies the last.

We have set up a few minigames along the way, like school, getting married, buying a house, getting a job, Christmas, porn, whatever. What do you do when these minigames are not enough though? You start writing, drawing, oversleeping, playing videogames. It's what we do.

Chemical imbalances are not rare and are part of my specific genetics, I don't know why that is important, but it's just what makes me think about these things. I've talked about the girls that have made an impact in my life, I left out one, on purpose though. Because even though I loved her and she was the most... benefitial relationship I've had, perhaps the most healthy one ever. It just... Sometimes it's not enough, sometimes maybe your chemical imbalance tells you that you can't keep doing it. It's not a decoy, it may look like, but you don't care about a decoy's feelings.

It's hard making sense, but I've reached the age I didn't want to reach. You get out of college, all your friends are either too invested with their girlfriends, or looking for love, or for sex. It's just, what if you don't want a minigame right now, what if you've had enough about relationships for a while and you just wanna enjoy a little?

When everyone is so completely obsessed over hooking up, over who is with who, who marries who. Where are the people that just want to hang out? Go to the movies, get drunk, play monopoly, the sort of stuff we did when we weren't completely absorbed by work and romantic relationships.

It is them that take the youth out of life, you never see it coming, you think it's never going to happen to you, but then one day, even if you are single, you find yourself in a suit, in an office, watching the clock tick, obsessing about relationships and life slowly going away. You have become old, you are 20 something and you already don't care about fun, just about taxes, bills, things, babies...

From now you won't even realize what hit you when suddenly you have your own mini person, pooping, puking and crying all day and all night long. It's already happening, you may be aware of it, but what are you doing about it? Chances are that by now, you've already become obsessed by what society wants you to obsess about.

If you have, then you have disappointed me. I know I have commitment issues, but maybe it's not that I don't wanna commit, maybe i just don't wanna grow up, I don't wanna be so consumed by work and marriage that I don't even fucking know how an iPod works.I don't wanna hang out with married people that only think about babies, and other couples and the most trivial shit in this planet.

I don't know who may be reading this, for all I know, no one is. But if you want your freedom and your youth as much as I do, then comfort in the thought that you are not alone.

I know what you are thinking... There are so many of them, I can't fight them off on my own, I can't simply stop hanging out with people just because they have become increasingly boring. And I will agree, they will probably catch all of us. The ones that remain will be shunned by the boring people, that think that everyone should be just as boring and miserable as they are. And then those last freedom fighters will die.

The thought that some people are able to live life and die on their own terms is endearing to me. I don't know the future, I can't say if I'll hold on enough to die how I want to die today.

Maybe I'll become a Zombie, you know, dead in life... All those family and corporate Zombies, not knowing what the fuck has happened or is happening to their lives, so fucking invested in other relationships that they can't do anything out of their own minds. Controlled by their surroundings.

I walk the streets and I see dozens of them, consumed by age. I cheer for humans, because humans die free. If I turn into a Zombie, please, cut my head off.