Hace tanto tiempo.

So it is. A long time ago since the last time that I wrote something here. A lot of changes and feelings as usual. Huge changes I guess, but I think I tend to overreact about them. Sometimes I feel that I am doing wrong, but at this point, I don't know what would I do, instead of what I am doing now. I cannot go back. And I am afraid to go forward. Jajajaja pretty hilarious isn't it. So, basically, I'm kind of trapped. Because I don't want to go back to a reality in which I will just grow old and wish for something better. But I am not sure of what I am doing now. But at least, I've managed to do it for about a week. Is this the right way? I don't know for sure. Well, now I know that I do not know anything for sure. I'm just here, riskin' just like it is supposed to be, even when I think that I am too old for that, that I should stop playing around and get a life. But, hey, this is my life. I don't want to live it in function of what other people says that is good or right. I don't want to be a stereotype, or live my life because somebody told me "hey, you should to that because it is what you're supposed to do". Just because. But it's difficult. Difficult in my mind, and in my heart. But I think that I am risking for the right causes. Even if I fail, it wouldn't matter, I failed a lot in the past, but at least I am trying to live what I want to live, and to believe in me, although sometimes I don't feel that way. 

Well, guess that's all right now. But I am still here , in this glorious and schizophrenic blog jajajaja. 

Los árboles...antes de la Edad del Sol y la Luna.

...Entonces Yavanna se incorporó y se irguió sobre Ezellohar, el montículo verde, pero estaba desnudo ahora, y negro; y puso las manos sobre los árboles, pero estos estaban muertos y oscuros, y cada rama que tocaba se quebraba y caía marchita a sus pies. Entoces muchas voces se alzaron en lamentaciones; y les parecio a los que se apesadumbraban que habían bebido hasta las heces la copa de dolor que Melkor habia escanciado para ellos. Pero no era así.

Yavanna habló ante los Valar diciendo: - La luz de los Árboles se ha ido, y ahora solo vive en los Silmarils de Fëanor. ¡Previsor ha sido! Aún para los más poderosos bajo la égida de Iluvatar hay una obra que solo pueden llevar a cabo una única vez. Di ser a la Luz de los Árboles, y en los confines de Eä nunca más podre hacerlo. Sin embargo, si yo dispusiese de un poco de esa luz, podría devolver la vida a los Árboles antes de que las raíces se corrompieran; y entonces nuestras heridas tendrían remedio, y la malicia de Melkor quedaría confundida...

El Silmarillion.

Este pasaje ha venido mucho a mi cabeza. Solo una vez. Una vez fue la creación, según la tradición. Una vez. Una vez las grandes maravillas. Pero solo hoy, que releí el pasaje, repare en la última parte. Un poco de esa luz. ¿Será que existe tal luz, o es solo una ilusión extraña?

Mighty forces.

Mighty forces struggle inside me. And many forces flow outside. But at the end, everything seems to be related. This year, somehow, I managed to quiet all the noise and listen to my inner voice, and also, to the voice of God, who is always speaking, even when we doesn't pay attention. Even when I don't always believe, or when I think that everything is like a conspiracy from the universe against me. But right now, I will use my favorite phrase: "I don't know". But suddenly, a burst of things came out. Better said, a burst of feelings. In one hand I feel deep fear and uncertainty, nostalgia, sorrow. Then I feel rage, too much rage and anger, wrath. Then I feel anxious. Then, I feel good, I feel and spread love, joy, hapiness. So strange. So many changes, a new life, and I am afraid. But ready.

Yes, even the last post.

Even the last post is true I guess. Even for me, for everyone, as I have been left behind many times for many people, family and friends included, and it goes on. And that's how I am losing faith in people and this world, that is only a bunch of crap. Or as just as  manic. Was fine this afternoon. I'm like shit now. Was fine last week, I was like shit on friday. But how? How does this thing work. I don't really know. Even the new horizons in my life seem meaningless when I feel this way. When the only thing that I wish is death. When I start to hurting myself again. Swallowing my screams and my tears and trying to yell Why? With no answer. And it comes all over me. Envy, sadness, anger. I know that I shouldn't feel this way. But I feel this way. And it is horrible. And I know that everyone is tired of me. I am no good enough. I am bad. I am wrong. And I just want my liefe to come to an end. To stop worrying my mother, my sister, my friends if I keep any. To stop bothering that person that I offered my love, my affection, my loyalty. All for going to waste. But that's how life is, I've just learned. And it doesn't worth it. It doesn't worth all my tears, all the suffering. Even my friends leave me behind. As i said, if i have friends. But I don't blame them. They have they lives. I don't blame them if they don't want me around, if they used to hang out with me in weekends... If I am boring and depressing. It doesn't surprise me that I am alone. Everyone has their one lifes. It's not my fault that my life is a crap. Or it is? It's because I am a bad person? It's because I'm too stupid? It's because I am selfish and mean? Really I am??

Why I am not death now?

Why?

I deserve it

I want it......

$@%che gente

Si, $@%che gente +#&era todos valen *&%ga. TODOS

Cementerio de blogs perdidos.

Así es, esta noche rindo tributo a los caídos. Aunque igual, en este caso solo es necesaria la voluntad para la resurrección de los mismos.

La Madriguera del Cine.

La Madriguera del Perezoso.

Geek Crew.

Pregúntolo.

Hidalgo del Parral

Lo interesante del asunto es que en al menos 4 de estos blogs esta la mano de PerseoX, al cual pueden visitar actualmente en su guarida.

Unrequited.

The word of the week. The word of the last days. Things have been pretty well until today. Well, maybe I just need to get use to this constant ups and downs. Though, I don't think that is normal. But suddenly I am realizing that there is no such thing as "normal". Maybe just "common" or "usual", "popular". Or maybe it is just that something is happening to me, maybe I am like Budha when he started to look at the things that were lying outside the walls of his father's palace. Of course that I am far away of a thing such illumination, but sometimes I feel that way. Like that Keane song "Is it any wonder", one of the verses says: " I always thought that I knew, I'd always have the right to, be living in the kingdom of the good and true".

But to the topic. Unrequited. I came to this word looking at Wikipedia. I didn't know the meaning. Then I started to search and realized in the words that I read, that the meaning was in me, because I was sort of living one of the common uses of that word. Unrequited love. I don't know why do I call this feeling love. Maybe because it is overwhelming. It has been that way this last four months. But my words have been here since then. At least some of them. But, as usual, I found some interesting phrases that say pretty much how I felt:

"Unrequited love feels like death. In fact, there are times when death would seem preferable to the unrelenting pain and frustration".

"I don't think there is any other pain quite like that of unrequited love, especially when rejection is involved, although that might even be preferable to being strung along with hopes and dashed with punishing regularity"

" How can a person deal with unrequited love? Being in love with someone who doesn't love them back, or even care to know how much you love them? As we don't fall in love by choice, is there any way to overcome this curse?"

"Unrequited love is like cancer. It eats your insides up and makes you feel depressed, lost and suicidal. You experience feelings of loneliness, sadness, hopelessness, anger and pain every night and day. You just loose interest in life." 

Or just as Wikipedia says:

"Unrequited love is a love that is not reciprocated, even though reciprocation is usually deeply desired. The beloved may not even be aware of this person's deep feelings for them. This can lead to feelings such as depression, low self-steem, anxiety, and rapid mood swings between depression and euphoria.  In extreme cases, it might even lead to suicide. 

And so on. From love to hate. From infatuation to despise. 

Now, the question. How the fuck do I get over it. I really want to. I want to see that person and do not feel. Feel nothing. But instead of that... I feel deep hate. Mixed anger and hate. Justified hate and deceive. For the lies, the hipocrisy, the treason to the friendship. Unjustified. Because of the feelings that are not reciprocate. 

I want to get rid of these. Because I don't want to hate you. I don't want to wish you the worse things. I don't want you to wish you a horrible life, full of sickness, disease, treason and a painfull and slow death.

That's not me. 

Incoherence...

Uncertainty and other stuff. Things that are broken and cannot be mend. Loneliness that prevails. Fear that goes on and on. Envy, hate, anger. Things that run through my mind tonight. Night of boring and loneliness... I should really go to sleep...

Rain falls

Inside....Because outside there is no thing such rain. After a couple of days of not so badness, it comes a sudden mix of feelings of anger, sadness, envy and uncertainty. I don't want the future, nor the past...I WANT THE PRESENT, THIS PRESENT....and I feel so angry for that that I am going to stop writing this right fuckin' now

This could be...

Oh simple thing...where have you gone...I'm getting old and I need something to rely on...

This could be the end of everything.....

At the edge...

Of this time, why I hate weekend?

It makes me more anxious

more sad

more lonely

more rejected

more lost

more gloomy

whatsoever

I've got to work tomorrow....

¿Por qué será que no me extraña?

El Noveno nivel del infierno, según Dante. El más terrible, en presencia del mismisimo demonio. 

Nivel 9 - Cocytus.

Este es el más profundo nivel del infierno, donde reside Satan, el ángel caído. Sus alas aletean eternamente, produciendo fríos vientos que congelan el grueso hielo que se encuentra en Cocytus. Los tres rostros de Satan, negro, amarillo y rojo, pueden ser vistos con una espuma sanguinolenta escurriendo de sus bocas, y con sus ojos, por siempre llorando, mientras mastican a los tres traidores, Judas, Brutus y Casssius. Es este el lugar más alejado de toda luz y calor. Los pecadores son aquí congelados profundamente en el hielo, cara hacia afuera, ojos y boca cerrados por el frio. Los traidores contra Dios, país, familia, amigos y benefactores lamentan sus pecados en este frio pozo de desesperación.

Conozco a alguién que acabará ahi... se lo merece realmente

Another crappy weekend

So it is. I haven't uploaded a series of photographs that, by suggestion of someone, are going to be called "Road through madness". I haven't uploaded them because I cannot find the fuckin' cable of the camera, and I lend my card reader. So, my pictures are isolated in the camera right now. But I don't even know for sure if those pictures are there. Or even If I want to look at them and remember those days that haven't ended yet, for I can see, I still feel odd about it. I want to be over Tokyo. 

Cause there's no memories over Tokyo...

And there's no hurting over Tokyo...

And so goes on the song (Over Tokyo, Collective Soul). So that's it. A bit of loneliness and songs for the loneliness. Or what did I expected? I don't know. People always says that expectations are no good. That you shouldn't have expectations about anything. But I don't know anyone who doesn't have them. So that's it, it's all crap. And that expectations are going to screw me up  (even more if it is possible). 

Last days I was thinking that I was starting to doing fine, that my senses were coming again to me and that I was starting to function, function. Suddenly, it is not true. 

But here I am (like somebody else use to say) with envy and anger growing,  a pain in the neck (literally) and wanting to shout and punch everything. 

So, after all these non-sense writing I understand why everybody hates me and rejects me.  Or at least I think. I must be far away.

Testing Horroroscope...

Saturday, November 10th, 2007.

Aries: 

You have been left behind 5 times in the same day, thing that confirms how pathetic you  are. That and your really bad luck in finding twice a fuckin'  stinky person on the same day are the result on a conjunction of Jupiter and Mars, or maybe, you're just miserable. Maybe that's why you are lonely writing this crap on a saturday night. Maybe nobody likes you at all, I wouldn't either 'cause you're always whining for the same crap. 

Strange week.

In which strange things happened. But the most important thing. M4st3r-X- is perfectly fine. I thank God (yes, the God who I unleash my anger sometimes seems to be doing good things actually) for that.

But what else happened? Well, I had the flu. It was very unpleasant, actually. And also, I was isolated from almost everyone I care of. Isolation...ostracism? Well, certainly not ostracism, tough it was a "voluntary" act. I put between inverted commas voluntary because although I was conscious of what I was doing, I couldn't stop it. Some inner force or inner voice (no I'm not hallucinating) was making me doing so. Why do I say it was not voluntary? Because I don't want to be alone. Is one of the things that I suffer the most. That cause me the greatest emotional pains and lead me to a kind of dispair, of not knowing what to do or how to fix it.

But I was doing exactly the opposite. Paradoxic.

Isolation. One of the things that I am trying to avoid. The things that I am trying to escape of. And the things that I do. But why? Why is not possible to relieve or let out this feelings of me.? Or, If it is possible, why I am not able to make it?. Why I struggle every day with an anger and a rage that comes and goes and every day is getting stronger. With a sadness that doesn't want to leave out. With an envy and a hate that drains my energy. With an eternal "Why" on my lips and on my mind.

In what I have become?...
I haven't laughed in days. I barely smile. This cannot be good (doh!) But I just don't know how to fix it... and it's just like my friend Phoenicoperus said: "Es fácil hablar de la carga, cuando tu no la estas cargando" or "It's easy to talk about the load, when you are not carrying it" I just don't want to lose the hope that I keep. The hope that I would be able to make through this situations and stop causing so much stress, worries and annoyance to the people that I love, to the point of abandon.

Anyway...is getting late.
I want this posts to become so less frequent....

Considerando el estado fisico y mental...

Debería haber pensado más publicar este video...sin embargo, esta música, estas letras....

I'm so alone...and I feel just like somebody else....

Well this place is old
It feels just like a beat up truck
I turn the engine, but the engine doesn't turn
Well it smells of cheap wine & cigarettes
This place is always such a mess
Sometimes I think I'd like to watch it burn
I'm so alone, and I feel just like somebody else
Man, I ain't changed, but I know I ain't the same
But somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
I think her death it must be killin' me

Anxiety

(...)"Según el psicólogo cognitivo Ricardo Ros, la ansiedad está directamente relacionada con el miedo al futuro y está basada en pensamientos relacionados con frases que empiezan con "¿y si...?" ("¿y si me mareo?", "¿y si tengo alguna enfermedad?", "¿y si pierdo el control?", etc) Para este psicólogo, el tratamiento de la ansiedad se tiene que basar en una recodificación de este tipo de pensamientos que permita a la persona vivir en el presente. La persona que tiene ansiedad, dice, siente el futuro como si fuera real, cuando la realidad es que en el presente, que es lo único que existe, no hay ningún motivo para que se genere ansiedad. Cuando la persona vuelve a recuperar su contacto con el presente, la ansiedad desaparece."(...)

(...) Sin embargo, en las sociedades avanzadas modernas, esta característica innata del hombre se ha desarrollado de forma patológica conformando, en algunos casos, cuadros sintomáticos que constituyen los Trastornos de Ansiedad, que tienen consecuencias negativas y muy desagradables para las personas que los padecen. Entre los Trastornos de Ansiedad se encuentran las fobias, el trastorno obsesivo-compulsivo, el trastorno de pánico, la agorafobia, el trastorno por estrés post-traumático, el trastorno de ansiedad generalizada, etc.(...)

Wikipedia en Español. Artículo: Ansiedad

Sigue Marx

y si nuestras condiciones de vida nos permiten elegir cualquier profesión que queramos, podemos adoptar aquélla que nos asegure el mayor bien, un bien basado en ideas de cuya verdad estemos por completo convencidos, que nos ofrezca el abanico más amplio desde el que trabajar para la humanidad, y que nos permita acercarnos verdaderamente al propósito general para el que toda profesión no es más que un medio –la perfección.

Bien es aquello que más eleva a un hombre, aquello que imprime la más alta nobleza a sus acciones y a sus empresas, aquello que lo hace invulnerable, admirado por la multitud y elevado por encima de ella.
Pero el bien sólo puede garantizarlo una profesión en la cual no seamos herramientas serviles, una profesión en la que actuemos independientemente dentro de nuestra esfera. Sólo puede garantizarlo una profesión que no exija actos reprensibles, incluso aunque sean reprensibles sólo en apariencia, una profesión que los mejores puedan ejercer con noble orgullo. Una profesión que garantice esto en su más alto nivel no siempre es la más elevada, pero sí es siempre preferible.

Pero igual que una profesión que no nos garantiza el bien nos degrada, una profesión basada en ideas que más tarde reconocemos como falsas nos hará sucumbir bajo su carga.Y en ese caso no nos queda otro recurso que el auto-desprecio, ¡y qué desesperada salvación la del autoengaño!

Aquellas profesiones no implicadas de lleno en la vida, sino relacionadas con ideas abstractas, son las más peligrosas para los jóvenes cuyos principios y convicciones no son aún firmes, fuertes e indestructibles.

Al mismo tiempo, esas profesiones pueden parecer las más exaltadas si sus raíces se hunden profundamente en nuestros corazones y si somos capaces de sacrificar nuestras vidas y empresas por las ideas que prevalecen en ellas.

Pueden proporcionar la felicidad al hombre que tenga vocación para ellas, pero también pueden destruir a quien las adopta apresuradamente, sin reflexionar, cediendo al impulso del momento.

Marx...

(...) si hemos elegido una profesión para la que no tenemos talento jamas podremos ejercela bien, y pronot nos daremos cuenta con vergüenza de nuestra incapacidad y nos diremos que somos unos inútiles, que somos incapaces de satisfacer nuestra vocación. Entonces, la consecuencia más natural es el autodesprecio, ¿y qué sentimiento es más doloros y más difícil de compensar a pesar de todo lo que el mundo exterior pueda ofrecernos? El autodesprecio es como una serpiente que mordisquea nuestro pecho, absorbiéndonos la sangre del corazón y mezclándola con el veneno de la misantropía y la desesperación. (...)