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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Relapse

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.

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.