Wednesday, May 31, 2006

Who is that other part of my soul and where is it? Where to find it? Every time I see my "friends" I see them more and more different to me.  I know they are supposed to be different from me, It doesn’t make sense to have someone just like me as a best friend...  if it did then it would suffice to be alone. I know he or she must be different… but I crave for someone to agree with me on things that I find essential… I yearnfor someone sincere, friendly, somewhat forward with things, someone to push me to do things and someone I can push to do others, we must share pleasures, be a bit crazy, support me and not criticize me, both defend me and need my help ... it’s more difficult for me to see the difference between friendship and love than it is for other. Is it perhaps the same thing except it includes is a sick dependence on closer physical contact? I could never expect anyone to touch me. I’m too ugly for that.
I thought your best friend has always been there for you... But it’s been lifetime for me and mine does not show up. People I meet do not understand friendships as I do. They simply end up hating me, ignoring me or disappearing...
I know I am the problem. I am certainly mad, a person who is supposedly in search of better things, but that at any hardship finds refuge in an invented world, where everything is perfect, and you can forget about everything else. How much I’d like for that world to be real, and how much more I would like to forget it so I could concentrate in this life and make it better.
But I can’t it’s so nice to be there, my desmænok, my personal paradise for when I die. This idea gave birth to Xag. The person I am and the person I am not at the same time. An ideal me, as I want to be and what I am right now. Living the life I wish to live most, one full of adventures and friends. In the desmaenok, He has three very special friends, whom I now call Joshua , his best friend, Nikolas (his girlfriend) and another one. One I have not yet imagined
There, as cliched and childish as it sounds the world is where all things I've dreamed of are true. I'm a witch, a famous artist and performer, a fugitive from justice, an adventurer, a boy of 10 one day, 14 the day after and 12 the next, beautiful.
Why Xag? Who is Xag?
When I think about my happiness, my joy, my true sorrows, my ideals, my fantasies, my ultimate self, my power, my weakness, my love, my fears, my evolution… Xag is 'it'. Xag is who I really am, Xag I who I want to achieve. Xag is my reality, my past and my goal. Xag is my true name. Xag is the word that calls upon my true self. People use nicknames to protect their identities, they wish to be someone they are not… and that’s sad, but credible. Xag It’s a nickname for all to see that shows who I really am but nobody knows. Only people that know me call me Xag. Only people that have seen more that the awkward little fag that barely speaks and sits alone to read and write… know of Xag.
Xag is happy as he is sad. He is in balance; he is as satisfied as eager to learn, an adventurer and a great host. He smiles only when he feels like smiling, he cries only when he feels like crying. He is transparent, honest… a liar only when it benefits others. He is in love with life, with death, nothing is strange to him, and everything is jfun. He is so unlike me really, Xag is willing to make the ultimate sacrifice, stop being himself for others… give up his will for others to find who they really are, Xag is willing to make mistakes to show others who they really are. That’s why Xag… that’s why I, keep posting my most intimate thoughts and secrets online. I’m trying to give... When you call up on my name, my true name, you are calling this creature I so desperately want to be, I so insanely think I am, that so painfully I’ve been. Yes… I made a character out of myself. I had never put into words quiet like that… I made a movie out of my life an existence… but that’s not how the world I live on works… I know that. It hurts. God it hurts, in every level. Physically… it hurts, aesthetically, ethically, morally, scientifically, socially, humanly, spiritually, magically… its hurts in every way. I open my eyes and see, hear and feel that all my words, actions and emotions… just don’t fit, in this place, in this world… I was just never meant for this world…
Perhaps I have created him/me to get rid of all those things that mortify me, He does everything that I can't do, I can't run away from home… it would be very complicated...
I’ll never finish my course of witchcraft, I cannot reveal myself to anyone, and I can't rebel myself against anything…

(2 days late)

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