Devoided

Devoided of any inspiration or creativity, I'm still trying to find some kind of stability that will take me to new waves and forms of compatibility with the world. Needless to say... no new deviation.

... I feel deep hatred towards those who I once loved.

Is it Christmas approaching that makes the sublime smell of deep dark Tartarus so irresistible?

me, the winter lover, lives now in contradiction; for as my most natural and defining event of the year nears closer (the winter solstice) I find more and more hatred towards me and those around me.

My nature contradicts the artificial environment I've been placed. Either that or I am really helium's strayed disciple...

Has the sun and summer really been my home all along?

Can’t help but admit that I have always wondered about the light in long blonde hair and the look and taste of wet bare skin.

If summer is my real nature, I can’t help but say that my true nature in fact makes out of me feel most alien within my surroundings; for I have not felt more inadequate than under the light and heat of our systems central star.

For now I can only say that as days grow shorter, my despise of those around gets bigger... and I yearn for loneliness, snow, and northern lights almost unbearable.

I hope hell is cold, for is where I most desire to go... since in the warmth of heaven I would just feel like a smashed cockroach on the wall... disgusting, out of place, hated... and still moving my little antennas, keeping the attention of those who have murdered me, all in awe and puzzled with the mystery of how was it that without any part or limb working, I managed to keep on holding to my fragile sense... smell..

I smell the sublime dead heavy fog from Tartarus calling on to me... yet I see no entrance, or way to say good bye to those once loved and are now hated...

I repeat myself. 

(40 days late)

Where I grew up

I grew up in a home where for some reason I was embarrassed to do anything. Everything I did, everything I said, everything I thought was a secret. It still is.

I was incredibly embarrassed of keeping this diary. I had to wait till it has late at night, to sneak around and write without anyone noticing. I was embarrassed to paint, so I had to do it at school. I was embarrassed to watch TV so I never used the TV remote... I always wanted to walk around in my underwear at home; I've always felt embarrassed...

I don't come from a home where I am free to be myself. Judged, questioned... made uncomfortable. Everything is I was embarrassed to ask for the clothes I like. I still am. I was embarrassed to get the haircut I liked. I was embarrassed to bring my friends home or speak about home... or even have my parents come to school for grades.

I think from there came much of my urge to lie as a kid. I didn't like where I came from.

I know now, my mom was severely depressed most of the time... and contemplated suicide a lot. I know she didn't’ got married out of love. My dad is never around in any of my childhood memories... except to watch if I brushed my teeth... which was a traumatic experience.

my parents lacked taste.... they were always behind in any sense of fashion... you ask around my childhood could have very well taken place in the 80's ... plus they never cared much about how the place looked, or how we dressed... most of my clothes where inherited by my older cousins anyway, so they were always old fashioned... we didn't have cable, so we watched a lot of local TV, Peruvian channels mostly...the TV I watched was never in sync with the TV people I met. Watched.

I remember I played some games with my sisters, we had an Intellivision that never worked, and board games got so boring after a while, so we used our toys and made up storyline that were actually part of the TV roast of our own imaginary TV channel: happy channel, and each game we played was an episode of a show we had there. It was all pretty cool actually.

But most of the time my sisters hated me. They said I was little fag every time they could and were so embarrassed I was their brother. They however have each other for better or for worse. So I was forever excluded from, games, conversations, TV shows, friends, visits... They were pretty much geniuses on their own right, I was always left as the dumb old brother. The queer.

I can’t honestly remember my mom or my dad caring for us at all... like, being concerned about a school, or our happiness, or our wellbeing. I only remembered one time my parents were called by a teacher at school or something... and they asked me about it. And I told them that this girl on the bus was calling me names and bullying me.

I was the ugliest kid in school, I remember the girls saying I had like this huge head... which I found so painful (because it was true) I think I became oversensitive to criticism... and kind of forgot to talk to people.

Hence... I looked even more as a moron. I remember once, we went to the Francesa with the school... and most of my friends found it came and went on be themselves, leaving me alone. And there that there was this sign on top of a comic shelve.

"Pay for one... takes two"

And I didn't quite understand it.

"I pay for one... and I get two more? That two awesome to be true!!! I got to ask!"

I know.... I was kind of hardheaded. So I asked this lady about it. And she said something like ¿are you a moron or what?

I told her some lie about being in the hospital... but since then, I never ever asked for help in store... or to the police or anything. The sense of utter stupidity was just too much.

I remember being so lonely and stupid that time... and I kind of punished myself for years for it. I was a moron. An idiot who couldn't read a sign.

I lived with this moron complex, for years and years... I remember it wasn't till second semester in collage. A girl in my photography class asked, actually asked me if I had some mental disability... that I realized how amazingly stupid I appear to people.

School sucked for me... there were some few scarce memories that I cherish... but they are so few and feeble.

Tilatá was a nightmare... I remember never being able to make a stupid friend there. Like... never. I think there were few recesses I spent with people... and it was rare...

I remember I was psychology most of the time in my first school... then..., well they stopped caring. I never spoke much in my therapy sessions either... it must have been frustrating to everyone. I was just sad. By the end of my time there... I was such an outcast... I felt so stupid... I was glad...

then my second school... was, well at least different... co I kind of made friends with the most un cool people... which lasted about a year... and then it was again loneliness... being mediocre in all my classes. I don't think I excelled at anything... besides design and arts which weren't even considered in my school...

God I hate my school. I find it... unbearably boring...

When I think about it, I just have this urge of screaming... like just really screaming so loud I cry. I just never screamed... there were so many things I kept to myself, so many things unsaid, so many things undone, so many wrongs ignored... I was the kind of kid that would take a shotgun to school and kill people. I fantasized with it, on endless times. There is just such a sense of frustration about everything. About not being recognized there as... something special.

I just wanted to say deeply... "You are wrong, you are so wrong... and I am right."

Nausea... from what that school meant... nausea ...with some really bright colors that showed occasionally in the gray mist...

Now I'm home again. Term is over. And I'm alone... feeling stupid. 

(12 days late)

It’s in the rain

Today I have just been smiling for no reason.

Bubble gum, chocolate and strawberry ice cream on my banana split: P he thought it was sweet... I thought we were bordering a diabetic coma. His brownie was yummy... and besides that mocha. I guess that added to one the best nights in my life. No kidding. They say eating chocolate releases serotonin, it’s in a way like having sex... add chocolate to actual sex; it’s bound to be orgasmic.

I've been doing... pretty much nothing all day... procrastinating... I hate homework....mainly reviving what happened Friday.... six months since I met the Prince Rabbit. It’s odd, how we celebrate the day we met and not the day I actually asked him to be my boyfriend. I guess I asked too late... I was already way to in love with him... you see, I loved him before I met him. Meeting him is what's important...

Right now, I'm so scared; feel like just cuddling inside my bed, and sleep. Because I don't know if I can feel this happy without getting seriously hurt. I'm doing well in school, I have Len, cool people I talk to, hot Emo boys adding me on MySpace, a decent visit ration YouTube, the batman movie is coming, and I lost weight... I can lose more... I need to exercise.

I'm just so really tired... and I've been trying to write this entry for three days... I wanted to convey how magical it was, how erotic, how amazing... how perfect... Maybe it because I'm tired, that feel like not seeing the prince again... what's left besides that? 

You see... there a big part of love that seems to consist of pushing, giving little nudges and dragging along... just kind of forcing someone into doing crazy, but memorable things... that you know, they will treasure after... then again... 

So we went on to buy boxers as a celebration... we bought the cutest pink and purple ones XD ((pix will be coming soon))

We walked for a good while talking, by the time it was already dark, there was this tiny little fountain besides... we got soaked! It was so much fun! The chilling water... the shiny jeans, sparkling. It was in a way the best way to say good bye to my wet love. Nothing can top that. It’s just a shame there wasn't camera we could use... because god, it was amazing.

It hurts that my suicide thoughts are not gone after all of what's happened... they might never really disappear until I am finally done with it. That's my cross to bear. I am better than suicide... or so I try to be.

(29 days late)

A night in the other realm

A night in the other realm. We didn't sleep.

I guess I was just too scared someone would walk in...I don't think I had ever been so attend to the sound of someone climbing the stairs... to the shadows that might be creeping on the hall...

I saw part of him I loved... he was in charge, he took the initiative, he was amazing... and talked and he shared... and he was so close...

And he gave me the key.

The key.

He couldn't have argued rationally... it was impossible....so he gave me instead of a rational argument... an emotional one.

And what can I say...

He won.

For the record. I am truly happy right now. 

(7 days late)

And I almost ran out of faith...

And I almost ran out of faith... and I almost ran out of love.

The year I took a bus, the year I had sex, the year I fell in love, The year of Len, of josh... and the Prince, the year harry potter ended, the year of the golden compass, the year of my suicide...

I was going to join him and his guys as they have a drink at the Francesa... and it turned out that I not being with them was a relief...

I was going to wait for the prince to teach me about Paul Klee, Andy Warhol, and Marcel Duchamp... I don’t think he really wants me to know... maybe he just think I’m too dumb to understand...

I was going to Play Final Fantasy VII, Zelda... I apparently I’m also to dumb undisciplined for this...

I was going to get him, gunged and slimed....

I was going to go out with him... Daniel and Aiacos, watch them fight... I ruined this... by being myself... he will never let me see them again... god... I was surrounded by people like them my entire school... and never enjoyed it... I wanted to... I just never knew how... I wanted him to teach me how.... I so wanted to have friends... and not feel old... I want to be reckless and immature... tell them about my wedgies, my fetishes... tell them about our sex... I want to fight you in the mud my prince... or at least watch them... but no.... it’s too late and I wrecked it... now they think only awful things about me...

I was going to wait and see if we draw together... he was going to teach me... and I feel I can’t draw anymore...

He was going to explain me about the Surrealist Revolution...

He was going to teach me French, Japanese and Hebrew from him... I don’t even know how was this ever going to happen...

He was going to introduce me to Natalia as she introduced him her new girlfriend... but I somehow convinced him I just don’t know how to have fun... and maybe I don’t...

He was going to teach me about indie rock... He doesn’t share his music... my fault... for handing back a headphone.

We were going to watch shotacon together... and I turned out to be a fucking asexual... uncomfortable to be around with....

We were going to go out and get wet in the rain: he doesn’t enjoy it... he just feels ugly and uncomfortable... I felt old...

We were going to have proper sex... and I apparently have the sexual age of an 8 year old... I don’t watch porn...

We were going to see the golden compass... he hated going to the movies with me...

We were going to play board games with my sisters... he hates playing games...

We were going to take glamour pictures of us... I’m an awful photographer... I disappointed him so badly last time...

We were going to go and see Adolf... I will feel ugly while doing so...

So what exactly the New Year holds for me?

Getting kidnapped to Sweden

Getting a double grad program in Spain

Getting a summer job in the us

This is one of the miracles of love: It gives a power of seeing through its own enchantments and yet not being disenchanted

New plans to make and disappoint him... new ways of do self-sabotage... All this is product of me missing him... I miss him to much... it’s starting to hurt me... maybe he just doesn’t love me enough to send me a text message on the cellphone... maybe he doesn’t love me enough to let me be with him on his birthday... maybe he doesn’t love me enough to comment on MySpace... maybe he doesn’t love me enough to want me to join him to wherever he goes... maybe he just doesn’t love me enough to answer my emails (its only polite)... maybe he doesn’t love me enough to push me... and teach me how to enjoy the things he enjoys...

What I really want with this entry is to make all of the said above to happen... not plant it and force it to happen... but just tell the universe... I want this to happen!!! I need this... because I don’t feel like killing myself anymore... I feel like wanting to live... just a little bit...

In wonderland

It’s not a whim...

It not... I'm not... little boy that whines, because life sucks, because no one understands him...

I am losing my mind...

I don't think it’s my secret desire to be special... to feel special , it’s not I'm pretending to be something I'm not.... I'm truly losing my mid... It just stops making sense sometimes, like, if my train of thoughts started going in circles...

it been going on for some times... its stare with me wondering around the house, just walking... people in school used to mention I spoke to myself, this was never intentional, I am never aware of this... but I do. My little sister notices sometimes... she finds it funny...

Lately, it’s been getting worse.

I'm dropping things all over the place... I was the neatest guy ever, it was psychotic... my room now... is a disaster... peopled asks me for things, I hand them something else... I can’t seem to keep a pen with me over a week... I forget to do homework's... I literally forgot the face of my teacher...

I never remember to put the milk back in the fridge... everyone snaps at me.

I find myself asking myself... what I was thinking. What am I doing? What am I saying?

Today the creepiest thing happened... I called the prince on the phone... I just forgot, what I was going to tell him... it took me a while before I started making any sense... he noticed...

Not having the cell phone at hand... also relieves me from the remorse of not calling anyone to say good bye...

I failed again... I know...

but I'm not planning months ahead, it’s just a week... soon it will be days... the I will be planning for tomorrow... and then... then I will make it...

I can kill myself, I can do it....

I can, I can... I can...

See... I'm spinning again? Maybe this is why I can‘t writes a lineal story any more... my book... I can’t seem to focus and tell the story form beginning to end... neither on video... things is becoming increasingly abstract...

I was a very reserved person... now I'm telling the entire class that I'm suicidal, now, I'm showing my half naked boyfriend to the world... I say the most inappropriate things in the library....

I'm so... anguished... so....

I've been writing this entry for a week...

(59 days late)

I'm in love

I'm in love I don't know how it happened, but today I knew it more than ever....I felt it more than ever...I've never EVER cried like that...for love...I just keep revisiting my romantic life trying to remember a moment that resembles the profound and powerful feeling I felt today when Xag broke up with me.I cried when Maria Camilla said I was ugly and I dressed bad on 4th grade (I was 9)I cried when, very dramatically, Chajín revealed that I was "gay" and that I liked Nicolas (Nicolas was there, I was 12) I cried of regret when I realized I hurt a naive 11/12 year old making him believe a hot older girl was in love with him(14)I cried when I realized I was old and ugly enough to make the prettiest boy in school, declare his love for me(16)Today I cried for love...because I'm truly in love with Xag. There wasn't a random tear like the other times...I felt something inside, something that made me...feel...I'm still crying and it hurts...but GOD, I'm crying for love...(cheesiest thing I've ever said) but what the HELL its true!, I'm in love bitches! And it feels amazing...Today, Xag made the noblest thing someone could ever do. It's so amazing I can't even believe it...Let's suppose that I'm as good as he says I am....He was willing to give up the "most precious thing in the whole wide world" just because he didn't feel he deserved it...how come? he thought that he would make me suffer, that I'll be better off with him...now tell me what person in the world is willing to sacrifice the most precious thing in the world just because the sake of it?...I have no words...Hun, I feel humble in front of you, and I feel I'm the happiest person on earth because I found you.god...crying makes you feel tired and sleepy...my face is all sticky and I have Goosebumps...every time I try to show Xag something about me, there's problems....either because he can't believe it and becomes overwhelmed or because he discovers that I want something else...What do I have to show him to believe me...I'm not making a charity job...I don't feel sorry about him...I LOVE HIM DAMN IT....as I've never loved someone before...I have flaws...my mistake maybe was not showing myself to him when I was most hurt on Monday...It was for my sanity...for my mental health...I´ll try to use this blog to expose my traumas...I think I've said them all but I'll try and dig deep into them, and show Xag that they don't hurt anymorethere's so many things I'd like to say right now....but I just can't I'm so tired....I still have to cry a little more...I miss him so much right nowI'll complete this entry later, don't take it’s finished..

Chaos at the end of the sidewalk

Yesterday... I experienced a lot... I learned a lot... I felt a lot... I liked it a lot. Suddenly I realize that there really is a whole other person in my life. A person so deep in thought, emotions and history... everything in ONE big mess... its chaotic... it’s like... All there... there are no ages, no changes no organization of any kind... it’s overwhelming...

The prince’s lair... he lives at the end of the sidewalk... when he starts I’m finished... he is just kid in Bogotá, that lives yes... of all the places in Bogotá... I would have never thought of finding love there... at the end of the sidewalk... in an ugly place (like he said)... industrial zone... exactly the kind of place I just wouldn’t like to live. Too much chaos, too many elements that would make you feel: hey... I want more... he of course doesn’t feel like that because he is nice and pure...

I’m starting to believe his ability to wish is tempered by his lies, the ones he tells and believes... how awfully tedious his existence must be at times... but then again... does he even notice? Do you save someone when they are happy the way they are? Do you save someone from being happy?

I’m starting to feel what is like to be him... that close are we starting to get... I’m starting to hate his eternal cough... I’m starting to hate his: it’s just sex attitude...

I haven’t been able to sleep tonight not more than two hours straight... I dream about him... it making me sick...I had a fever... my shirt was all sweaty and soaked... I’m losing my mind yes. I no longer doubt that. I’m just going to be one of those people that belong in a mental institute and no one notices... I sort of wish they did... I need help... imposed help, I need drugs, and I need so many kinds of drugs... I guess I just want my sanity... I want to make my emotions stop being toxic to me...

I left his realm kind of wishing he had not touched me so deep... I hadn’t been so wowed and terrorized... wishing I have not cared that much... wishing I did not love him that much... but I do... 

Princes don't need Princes

Princes don't need Princes God, now I hate writing...I never said Xag was one of those "stray souls"...I was just trying to analyze what Natalia said to me in the light of my relationship with Xag. I was just wondering if Xag could become one of those "cases"...I was just trying to say that I always end up being the "sane" person...that's all.Yesterday, everything changed.Yes, I wanted to be his savior. I loved the idea of come flying and rescue him from his misery, I loved the idea that with the power of a hug I would heal his wounds, that a kiss would erase his pain, that my breath in his ear would make him love to be alive; I wanted to teach him how beautiful the sun is, the clouds shining in the daylight, the moon watching us from the distance; how wonderful, comforting and trusting are the city lights; I wanted to teach him how beautiful is air, the mountains; the amazing gentleness of the wind; the beautiful music that noise makes...I wanted to teach him how wonderful he is, how gorgeous he looks when he opens the door of his house and he lets a sweet, almost soundless "hola" escape from a colossal smile; teach him how comforting is his presence when the elevator door opens and his body watches me with relief, despite that I'm 2 hours late; teach him how much I wanted to kiss him in our first date in that cold bench when his broken eyes looked at the floor during an awkward silence; tell him how I blush in the bus when I remember our shower; I wanted to make him realize how wonderful his existence is; how much the world needs him, how much I love to watch him move, not move, talk about comics, how much I love his silences, his whiny, girly voice; how much I love his drawings, his writing, GOD!, his body, always eager for a hug, I love his room, I love his eyes, I love his neck, I love his arms, I love his clothes, his family, I love his home, his cat; I love how he walks, how he cries, I love his blog, I love how he thinks, I love what he thinks, his nails, his smelly socks...GOD, I love the most beautiful boy ever!But apparently, as always, I'm too late, too late to be a savior.Yesterday, I understood what means to be a suicidal. Suddenly, it all made sense. I couldn't tell him anything, I couldn't refuse him, I understood why he doesn't want to be in this world, I understood his frustration...and I couldn't help but to tell him that he is right. That he won that war, way, way, way before that war existed...I told my boyfriend that he should commit suicide...Now I'm thinking I'm going to regret all my life for having said that, but now I love him SO much that if he thinks that dying is the only way he'll be free from his pain, I have to say that I support him.The problem is that I love him...and I don't want him to leave...My plan is getting used to the idea that he's going to leave someday...(I'm a girl now!, I'm crying) but God!...please...let's wait...Don't break up with me...I don't need a Prince...I don't want a damn Prince...I want you damn it! YOU!I wish he wouldn't make a movie out of everything, that he believed the lies of the world, that he tried to be a little more like a zombie...I can't believe I surrendered...so quickly...I can't be his savior...he's already broken. 

He tasted like humans do...

He tasted like humans do...

Like love, like experience, like truth, like mind, body and spirit. He tasted like, the sweet warmth of home, like the heat of adventure. He tasted like reality. I had dreamt and fantasized so much about a kiss, I had imagined a flavor... a weak fantasy lie flavor. But it was sublime, raw... a taste so marvelous, so grounding, you feel you have touched the essence of life.

I read true kisses were dreamlike states, where the soul melts and consciousness disappears... they let out half of it. Kisses are conscious half of the time. The states shift so fast, so marvelous, so quickly... the body barely has time to catch up; the words barely have time to come out.

I was so aware of us, his taste his smell, the trees... me, a sloppy kisser I am sure, immature, waiting to be directed. I smiled. I always thought I would cry after a kiss... but I didn’t, I smiled.

I was so ridiculously happy... it was so ridiculously wonderful. I had my fist kiss... and it was... worth the wait...

We kissed in a park bench... by the moonlight, besides a calm river. An old couple saw... us... ... we inspired them... they kissed later!!! We moved to the wall, where we stood up for almost an hour... I spoke... my heart my mind... I held him so tight... so close... I was so relieved, comforted, pleased, excited, and happy, saved, loved, read, listened, tasted, and smelled.

We were against the wall... on the city; there was graffiti besides us... it read: KISS. The band of course. 

Everything was so me my phone rang, the lord of the rings ringtone, my Spiderman boxers, my superman hoodie, my cuts in my arms, my heat, my nails... and him... he was so.. Him. He smiled with me. He was turned on; he was listening to me... who wouldn’t stop blabbing... I spoke about superman... who is him when he wakes up? He said... Xag, I’m not your savior... then I realize I didn’t want him to be... I just wanted him.

“Death is at most… a change”-Siddhartha 

If I was to change tomorrow… would anyone miss who I am today? … The person, the ugly un-kissable person I was… the person I’ve been all my life… doesn’t not exist anymore. He died my prince… you killed him. And I’m in some way deeply thankful for that… thanks to you I’m not the ugly duckling anymore. 

I’ve been cutting since school…

Aw fuck… well… I’ve been cutting since school… only 3 people have noticed that I knew of. Aiacos, my English teacher… and today, my mom. Of all people… she was the only one that couldn’t ever know… 

“Did you subconsciously let your guard down to ask for help from the one person that will not give up on you?” 

I can’t relate to the beautiful… “An old ugly virgin”… there… that’s what should lie in my grave… it would sum up my existence… won’t it? Won’t it?

 NOW you don’t answer!!!… You…. you double faced bastard… you said we were all the same!!!… All created at your own perfect image… all to be loved equally… All but the freaks… All… but ME…

(1 day late)

You would think

You would think that I would write pages and pages about my date with the prince... I could, there’s so much to say, so many stupid details that acquire such a big importance, so many amazing realities that I swear make my heart jump.... so many little truths and so many big ideas.... however I just want to tell all of this to him and just to him. I just can’t get over the fact that he is... real.

(1 day late)

Sail Away

I had written this title for an entry long ago... and never knew what I would write in it... I had daydreamed it would be the entry where I announced triumphantly that I will be finally is going out of the country...

But no...The prince is the one that sails away in his happy boat... while I left to drown... we won’t talk again... ever... I know that... I feel it... it wouldn’t be so painful otherwise.

I ruined of course another chance for companionship, for friendship... maybe even love... and god he was so near... he is actually the brother of a girl I have class with!!! I could have actually bumped into him any day on my way to class...

there was a clause to our goodbye.... that after all of these cosmic coincidences... another one showed up... we would talk again... now the chances of another cosmic coincidence showing up, are one in a trillion...

Jump, Up and Away

The dream started with me being superman (I know how it sounds... but I don’t expect you to understand)...and I saved the day, I flew, kicked some ass and used heat vision to go through glass doors (I know... lame... but I love using heat vision in my dreams)

Then, of course the damsel in distress... gave me a post it so we would meet at night for a date... if you have ever read superman, then you knows he wouldn’t have accepted; he belongs to Lois. However, on the moment the date I came I was no longer superman, I was... well me... with superpowers but me... I did go to the date... I met with the girl, and I got her to fly...

I have dreamt about flying before, it’s always amazing, incredibly realistic, the feeling, the wind, the sightings... everything... it doesn’t happen often, but it does happen... there’s a vertigo that is so fulfilling. You jump.... but you don’t fall... you just fly...

As I flew with her, she asked me how far up I could go... I went up and up with her on my arms... and the vertigo increased and increased... I was very high (I had never flew that high)...till she told me to stop. Then I asked... do you want to fall?

I never knew her answer I woke up…

 

(1 day late)

Why do we fall?

Why do we fall?   I think we fell together... in the woods, at night, completely lost and bare feet... we were walking and we stumbled into each other, tired from walking, from pain... and we fell.... we fell down. And I think we didn’t let each other get up and move on... we just sat there in the muddy road and stared at each other, examined each other... we saw likenesses and differences. 

Sometimes we saw something we liked, sometimes we didn’t...   I just think we were just so excited to have found someone as lost in the woods as we were, we couldn’t help but to talk... hope.... however it became clear, what I suspected from the beginning... after all we are going different ways... you are going forward, I’m going backwards... you are so hopeful about yourself... you have to stand up... and carry on... I would have loved to give you hand and help you get up... but I can’t... I just can’t... can you blame me for trying to urge you to move on without me when I know you’ll find the way?  

I for myself will probably stay sitting on the floor a little longer, I don’t really feel like standing up at all, and wave you good bye as you disappear inside in the fog and the trees...   Finally... relax, take good breath and sleep...

(2 day late)

All it takes is one bad date...

All it takes is one bad date... 

Unless you are me, then you need two.

Tonight I’m going to cry, not just yet, because I’m filled with anger first. And not the type of anger that makes you wants to yell and course everyone you know. I’m filled with type of anger that requires to be denounced, that feels me with energy to write this words. Today I saw the things I hate most about myself and about others. Insecurity, lack of character, lies, disrespect, lack of communication, ugliness, both physically and personality wise... I saw everything that wrong with me and my world.

I don’t want to see you again, ever, you hurt me, and you will die alone, I got myself vulnerable to you, and you, and you made me feel, embarrassed about who I was, about what I believe... and what’s worse, I let you do it to me twice.

You are faggot, and mean this in the very and most insulting way, and for that I hate you, because you made me feel bad about being who I am, you represent everything that wrong in the ameinian community... you are, a cliché! The worst kind, you make me kitsch, void, useless... I’m an idiot, and you proved me right. 

You shouted to a 10 year old girl! What kind of person does that? You had me 15 minutes dragging after you in search of cab... I hate myself, for being with you, I hate myself for even doubting if it was my fault you are so week... I’m angry, so angry, so disappointed, so filled with contempt... I hate you, not more than I hate myself...but I do... I’m so filled with... hate... I couldn’t help but laugh all the time at our situation, and I know it bothered you I didn’t say what I was laughing about... I was laughing about us, our pathetic situation, you not knowing the jerk you are, and me putting up with it, when I know I deserve better even if I die a virgin... which I am still... and I’m so proud about it, because losing it to you would have been too degrading, I would have had to killed you and shoot myself then.

(17 days late)

I’m scared

I’m scared, I’m scared of what I’m feeling, for some reason, I started to care for someone else, absurd I know… and then I thought someone wanted to love me when all he wanted was sex, and that’s why I’m heartbroken. 

Do I believe in sex between friends? Yeah. 

Do I believe in marriage? No.

Do I believe in boy/girlfriends? yeah

So of course I’m scared and dumb when it comes to relationships… I’ve never had one. I feel vulnerable because people tend to leave marks on me… a burn, a scar, something that will never go away… god I still remember people from when I was 10 y/o…. I’m insane, that’s it, and I’m totally and completely insane. 

How is it different a fling from a relationship… a fling is a kid of a relationship… yeah it’s constant, but without the compromise, or the exclusiveness, or the labels and responsibilities. There is something going on inside that I’m having trouble identifying… 

Do I want unconditional love? Yes… 

Do I want a lifelong partner? Yeah! 

Do I believe in sex with no compromises? No 

Oh my god… I don’t believe in sex without compromises.

Is that wrong? 

But I have put myself out there not expecting any compromises; I can have sex just to have sex. Not feeling hurt. It’s all very weird, it’s all very weird… 

David, David, what’s your problem… I’m bothered by your use bisexuality as a shield, like if it was less bad or something… Does it bother me because I use it as a shield? I don’t know… I don’t think I do, or I don’t want to, I believe I can love a man or a woman the same way romantically… actually if I’m not deceiving myself, I can have sex with both… right now I feel like I can be more open about what I like with a guy, but I’m sure a girl would understand… a girl like Elektra, I liked her… I really liked her. 

I need to… publish this… yeah… I need to, my diary it’s not over, I need it to continue or things will bottle up inside and become really confusing. And I don’t want to be confused.

(1 day late)

Why can’t I stop writing this stupid blog!?

Why can’t I stop writing this stupid blog!?

I need to stop attracting this confused 15y/o they are so lame.... I hate them and you know why? Because they are me!!! 

I hate I’m not fucking ameinian, I’m desperate to be a fucking cock sucker... and yet that specific act repulses me!

I like boxers... on girls and guys, that’s a truth.

I like girls kissing girls, maybe as much a boys kissing boys.

(4 days late)

I hate myself...

I hate myself...-. I hate that the only way I can utterly express my sadness is through this diary which was supposed to have ended.

I hate that I have no one to share my thoughts and wishes, I’m tired of being alone... so alone...

I know I need my own apartment, I know I do, I know I need to get a job, I know I do, I know I have to stop sheltering in my room from the world

(62 days late)

Christmas is a stupid holiday

Christmas is a stupid holiday, not as stupid as New Year’s but stupid enough.

First we must admit it’s all about the money and the presents, like one broke girl said.

“The holidays are totally about money! It’s about spending money to buy things to stuff into the giant black sucking hole in the center of each of us that reminds us life is hard and then we die.” 

It’s not about love, joy to the world, or the celebration of the birth of Christ... It’s a huge commercial complot to exploit us and taker our money.

But who am I kidding… this is not why I hate Christmas...

I hate Christmas, because it’s supposed to be perfect and never is. This time of year comes, and it’s in our subconscious that this should be a time for happiness and sharing with our families. But it’s never like that…

I personally don’t love my extended family, with whom I have been forced to share this dreadful holiday. Why you wonder? It’s a nice family… a good looking, a wealthy family, a kind family… I don’t fit. I just don’t. 

The people closer to me is the people I’m more distant emotionally, no one in my family knows me, and the only person I depended in making Christmas better is across the ocean having the time of her life. 

As I sat alone in the middle of the crowd drinking Colombiana I realized how alone and pathetic I was:

First the only person I was expecting to hear a merry Christmas from was a 60 year old in England.

Second, that the only person I could ask in a date was not very good looking 15 year old ameinian boy I met online… and knowing that if I ever meet him, he’ll be so disappointed; I’m much uglier than what you see on webcam.

Everyone else is gone… just gone… And to think this promised to be such a great Christmas season. 

(29 days late)

Smoke Cathedral

The tragedy is not that life has no meaning but that there is no meaning that is worth a life. 

-  La catedral de humo.