Un saludo.

Así es, saludo a aquellos que aun creen en cuentos chinos.

Normalmente...

Normalmente no escribiría esto en este (esto en este...jajaja) blog. El otro día pense en quitar todas las entradas depresivas, pero tristemente, me di cuenta de que me quedaría sin blog ¬ ¬. Igual y nadie obliga a quienes tienen a bien pasar por aquí hacerlo, quizás se sientan identificados en algún aspecto, quizá digan "WTF con este tipo como es dramático y exagerado" o "que mamón por escribir en inglés". Así que no creo eliminar muchas entradas por lo pronto jajajajaja.

Se me ocurriá el otro día que si tuviera Twitter que clase de cosas escribiría, considerando que tengo en abandono este paño de lágrimas. Después de meditar al respecto, se me ocurrió: "mejor aún, ¿que escribiría alguien en la estación espacial internacional?". Dadas las noticias de los últimos dias creo que sería algo así:

@ElPlanetaTierra: ¡ME CAGO ENCIMA DE TODOS USTEDES!.

Bueno, suficiente divagación por el momento.

Does it have any sense to write on a title for what I am going to write?

Well I don't really know, but at least I managed to fill the slot with something other than "no title". Anyway. This week was pretty odd, like some sort of escape from the friggin' reality and the shitty thoughts that assault me everyday. Today, bugged by my family "is your treatment really working", "I've seen some details in you". I could explain them in plain terms, but it wouldn't be socially acceptable and would lend to more and more judgement. Yeah..judgment. Two weeks ago I found an old friend from school, and I was asked "what are you doing now"...and in my mind I was only thinkin' : "should I lie?" Why the lying? Because seems to be that I feel ashamed of what I am doing. Then, some "in-law" asked me: where are you working?. I have the answers to those questions, but I feel totally ashamed. I shouldn't be. But seems to be that deep inside me, I feel that I'm wrong somehow. I really don't feel like partying and the summer is almost fuckin' over...and another night..another day...another year...

I'm starting to think that I couldn't recognize happiness even if it would slap me over the face...

So long. I apologize.

I was daydreaming...

I was daydreaming today...trying to escape from my own thoughts with other thoughts. I was somewhere across the Cortes Sea...in a peaceful city that has some name that bears that peace. Swimming in a lonely beach, smelling the salty breeze, enjoying the warm of the sun, without even worrying about my looks, my state, my past, or my future...

Bloody Hell...

That's one of the words that come to me when I think what I was going to write right now. The other one is "I'm getting tired" but I think I have used that as a title already, so I won't use it in that sense. But I will use it a lot...again. So far, this sounds like a metha-story. A story about the bloody story (yeah, I like how bloody sounds, God bless britains). Anyway, what is the point on writing so anyone can see what you think, even when all you write about is just trouble and distress? Probably that's why I have too much readers. I'm just like a sunshine, full of flowers and candies.Well, If someone has read this blog, probably would know how things work. Been years and trials, medicine, prayers. And right now I have some strange conclusions....I have alienated myself...no one is alienating me, and, if that was the case, it could be just my fault. I still feel that people questions and judge me, everytime someone asks me about my life, I need that I have to give stupids reasons, even lies, about my laboral-academic situation. "Oh yes, and what are you doing since school?....How do you procure yourself a living?"... It is true...I shouldn't have to give explanations of my life to anyone...but in the practice, I just feel ashamed...yeah, ashamed. The worst part is that, if I'm ashamed of what I do, it implies that I'm also ashamed of what I am. I'm ashamed of what I feel, ashamed of having a permanent fear to lose what and who I love. Ashamed of being the cause for the grief of those who care for me...

I'm ashamed and tired of my envy, my jealousy, my stupidity, my sadness, my neverending grief, my selfishness, the lack of love to myself. In just a few words: I'm tired of myself...Now, I think that is pretty much obvious why I am alone and misunderstood.

Through the aging, the fearing, the strife...

And just like that song, I became sensitive to faith. Because faith in me is not like a cornerstone, or a strong foundation. I use it and consider it like that, but it is variable, like the tides, like the winds. Also, sometimes I would like to look the other way. To lead my sight to better things, not an uncertain and dark future, or an everlasting and determining past. And a brief present. Somethings are almost over, and haven't even started. Some other things don't seem to start.

Good Night