Showing posts with label guyliner. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guyliner. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Yunalesca - A public love letter

Sometimes, I have this feeling... you all know how hard is for me to know exactly what I'm feeling. I get this feeling for someone, that I can’t precisely put a name on it. It’s a sense... of vastness... the same sense of vastness that is produced by suddenly lying down on the floor and looking up to the immense celestial vault. It’s all so big; it’s all so magnificent... so out of grasp.

A careful study of scientist through history will result in many of them, if not all of them, reaching to out god when they found themselves at the very edge of their knowledge... they all at some point called upon god, because their understanding of the world was limited... there must be some divine, greater than life, force behind it.
Now, of course it’s easy, if not common, to get this feeling when looking at the stars, the movement of the planets, the tide and waves of the ocean. All of these things... of course produce this overwhelming, tear filling emotion.
However, I dare now say I have found it somewhere else.... and odd place.
Sometime around winter 2007 I went online to a certain forum and search for Yunalesca there. 88 messages he had posted since 2003, a fact that I had quickly forgotten. Almost a year later, I had fallen in love with this very Yunalesca. I fell, in love with the sweet prince. And in certain occasions I had felt this vertiginous feeling I'm talking about inside me when thinking too much about him, or talking to him... yet I think I never dared faced my fear and looked straight at it. I had always took a deep breath and recoiled.
But something happened a week ago. An emotion this big, so vast had been approaching for almost a week.
I know... this sound insane, but I swear I have been having the feeling I'm going to feel something... But that's how it was... I knew it was coming,
When my heart broke oh so very easily with silence... I wondered if I had gone insane. Then, when later something like picking up the phone felt like being spit on the face... I knew it was probably the very end of emotions that was coming near.
Then after almost 12 hours together and not talking and hating and fighting, a single hug erased it all and fixed it all... then when he jumped excited after seeing the batman toys on burger king and when he joined me to buy superwoman... and listened carefully for a story that did not make much sense. Then... I knew it was something spectacular.
I should have seen it coming... when while I was going for a coke while he waited for the sandwich it seemed like an awful distance to be apart from. Should’ve seen it coming, when he and I agreed we wanted the same thing on the food court XD or when we were looking for an exotic dish... and it turned out to be a panzerotti... (I think I cannot think about that situation and smile with all my heart.)
I probably should have known I was going to miss him 24/7 without rest or sleep... when I saw him getting drenched in the park, or how he laughed at me falling down in the fountain (I really did fall down unintentionally) and how incredibly hot he looked switching pants on the Emo store.
I was sure I was going to explode emotionally soon when I was looking straight into his eyes at night, like I did on the ride back home and when you chuckled every time I lost my wallet. And with the surprised eyes you stared at me because I was oh so drunk... and how comfortable his lap was while he played videogames.
And when you looked down to the floor when I saw you wearing you Ben10 boxers in the shower.
Today I went back to this forum... and looked at the 88 messages he had written there. And it hit me.
He. Exists.
He was there before me.
He is there without me...
He is unreachable.
All this messages written long before he came into my life... they are his. Yet I don't know the person who wrote them. I can’t turn back time and meet him... I can’t figure out what was on his head... did he suffer? Was he joyful? Was he happy? Even oddly enough... why do I feel love and care for the words of this being that I did not know back then and do not know right now as he is now only the one I do know.
I once said... it takes a lifetime. To know someone. But it’s not true... it takes more. Not even in all my lifetime will I ever get to know that Yunalesca that wrote and spoke so few before me. It comforts me that I believe in more than one lifetime to know that there will be another one where I can know him completely.
This is probably the weirdest love letter I've ever written. And I say love letter, because of all feelings only love could measure up and proclaim this one I own.
And this is probably a very long dull love letter for everyone indeed, but us. But I don't think I could bear speak to him right now... I don’t think I could lose the knot in my throat, or get a hold of my tears...
On his presence, all so big... so sacred, so divine
What kind of love letter would this be if I didn't say what all love letters attempt to convey?
I love you. 

(10 days late)

Saturday, December 3, 2011

I'm angry right nowa lot has happened, but the reason I'm angry is because today happened something I knew it was going to happen someday. I crashed. I crashed because the lack of money.Today, they called from college saying that I couldn't get the scholarship I always get for working there, because they wouldn't give any scholarship to any 1st to 10th semester student. Shit! I asked like a thousand times! "Is there any problem with that?", "-no", they said. They even gave me the discount "ticket”, but they had to void it so it cause any problems...fuck!That means that everything I did during this semester was worth nothing. N*O*T*H*I*N*G. I stayed, even when I didn't have to stay, just because I was committed to my work. I got sick by delivering magazines at 8PM, I stayed up until night with the design guys to have the magazine look pretty, and I did what I had to do, do what I wasn't supposed to do. GOD! I'm even editing articles for a damn magazine that's to come in December. That’s SO not...It was worth shit.The worst case scenario would be that they couldn't count that work as an internship...they have AT LEAST to do that...I don't even know what makes me angrier, the fact that I worked my ass off for nothing or the fact that the lack of that scholarship would possibly mean that I won't be able to study next year. I mean, that's my parent's business, they told me not to worry about it but, c'mon! How are you supposed to pay for that??!! I hate being poor...why did my dad had to go bankrupt? why aren't we moved on since then?, why don't my parents ask their families for help. I know people with lots of uncles, cousins and aunts, and it all kind of works, they help each other...But no, we have to be the rebels, we don't need uncles and stuff...well, look mom, that's where your rebellion took you. You keep telling your son you can help him fulfill his dreams when you know you can't by yourself. Damn! I can´t blame you, I love you...but, Shit! It sucks...Is everything falling apart? Yes...it is...will I be in pain for this? Of course, but....I don’t know...something will happen I guess, I’ll figure it out...there's loans and stuff...what a shitty crisis! GOD...For moments I thought. "damn, now I won't be able to study, I'm condemned", " I should join Xag on his suicide"...I feel like I want to die right now...I want to cry...I'm not used to feeling this bad...I wish I don't have to worry about this. Well, actually I don't...I won’t'. I mean, I haven't even told my mom...something will happen...what is it that makes me SO angry? I mean, no. I'll study, there's no way I can't...we'll work something out...I know I'll be studying...Then, is this frustration. Yeah, I'm angry because I worked for nothing!!!...There was such a relieve in my mom's face when I told her I could get the scholarship for the next career...that's what hurts me..."mom, they voided the scholarship"...damn! It’s not fair. I heard her making bills and arrangements...this totally blows everything up. That's what hurts me, because I know she's going to be worried sick when I tell her...It's not me...I'll be fine, I can even get a job if something goes wrong, or ask Rosario (my crazy boss) for help, its others (my mom) that worries me.I'll be fine...I know...this is nothing, I saw this coming, so...ahhh...no big deal...I won't make a movie out of it...I'll keep trying I guess...I'm not that angry anymore...Fuck those messy scholarship mechanisms, it's Rhina's fault...how didn't she verify?! What was she thinking?!!...She should have said: "look, you can't be a monitor this semester because, you won't be getting any scholarship"....Did I have to tell her that? It’s her fucking job!!!...I know what I'm going to do, I'm going to make a complaint...It's nobody’s fault...but it’s time to make a statement. I NEVER, EVER ask for recognition or brag of what I've done. But they're going to know...it's time for they to know that I didn't even have a workplace, that I had to come to my own PC, make my sister and mom wait for their turn because I had to correct articles; that I had to spend my free time delivering magazines and carrying heavy(HEAVY) boxes that I didn't have to carry!!; that I spent hours sitting next to 35 year olds who can't write, telling them how to write a fucking article!!!; that I've burnt my eyes trying the magazine to come up without any mistakes only to find that because she was hurried, my boss turned blind eye on several very bad written articles; that I show up even when I have nothing to do to see if they need any help; that every time I can I make entries for the Webpage even when I think that it shouldn't be my job, because there's 3 other people (monitors as well) that the only thing they do is post weekly entries in the student's blog...the ironic thing is that they're getting a scholarship for doing that and I'm not; they're going to know that I had to take a cab, pay it from my own money, to go to the printer's center to check if the magenta levels were right; that the other day I stayed until 10 p.m. with the designer trying to make him get the damn borders straight!!...GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!...This is not what a monitor should do!!! AT ALL....the other ones just stand in the computers room and say: "you can pass", others just attend calls....A monitor it's not supposed to do what I've done...and I knew it, but I did it because I knew there was a reward...now there's no reward and I feel like the most stupid person in the earth...Does it matter that I did all that? Is my boss coming to comfort me right known? Is that lazy ass Rhina coming out and stay with me as I did when she begged me for help to write her shitty article? NO!, they don’t' care, the don’t' give a damn about me...my time was shit for them...like nothing...Well now FUCK OFF!, you're not going to find another asshole that does what I've done, you used me motherfuckers!!! and everyone's going to know it....just waitSo not fair......I'm kind of cool right now...but god!....I'll take it easy, there's no way this is going to stay this way. I have everyone on my side...someone will fight for me, or I'll fight myself....I'm going to address a polite complaint. That'll make me happy...as for money, that's not my business; as for my mom, she'll figure something out; as for college, they will listen to me; as for me, I'm fine, a little teary eyed and frustrated but fine...I'll sleepI'll be just fine 




Sunday, December 12, 2010

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. 


Tuesday, July 13, 2010

May my death be fruitful. And force the meditation. So that those who can, learn the lesson.

From the suicide letter of Miguel Ángel Quevedo. Cuban Editor, Shot himself while living in exile  in Venezuela. 

We were all guilty. Everyone. By action or omission. Old and young. Rich and poor. Black and white. Honored and thieves. Virtuous and sinners. Of course, we still had to learn the incredible and bitter lesson: that the most "virtuous" and the most "honored" were the poor.

I die disgusted. Alone. Outlaw. Exiled. And betrayed and abandoned by friends to whom I generously gave my moral and financial support in very difficult days. [...] All dehumanized and cold abandoned me in "the fall".

May my death be fruitful. And force the meditation. So that those who can, learn the lesson. [...]And for the people to reconsider and repudiate those spokesmen of hatred, whose fruits we have seen could not be more bitter.

We were a people blinded by hate. And we were all victims of that blindness. Our sins weighed more than our virtues. We forgot Nuñez de Arce when he said:

"When people forget their virtues, it's a tyrant in its own vices."



Thursday, April 15, 2010

Grated Carrot

 Grated Carrot

The first suicide is unique.
They always ask you if it was an accident
or a sincere proposition of death.
They shove a tube up your nose,
hard,
it hurts,
and you learn to not disturb the neighbors.
When you begin to explain that
death-actually-seemed-like-the-only-way-out
or that you did it
to-fuck-up-your-husband-and-your-family
they have all turned their backs
and are watching the transparent tube,
retrieving the parade of your last supper.
Betting on whether its noodles or fried rice.
The doctor on duty coldly tells them:
it’s grated carrot.
“Disgusting,“ says the nurse with big lips.
They disposed of me furiously
because no one won the bet.
The saline dispersed quickly
and ten minutes later,
I was back at my house.
No space to mourn
nor time to feel cold and tremble.
People are unconcerned with death that comes from loving too much.
Child’s play
they say
as if children killed themselves every day.
I looked in Hammett for this exact page:
never tell a word about your life
in any book,
if you can help it.


Miyo Vestrini, died by suicide on November 29, 1991, at 53. Cut her veins. 

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

I’m sorry

I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, really I just didn’t know.... please forgive all the horrible things I made u feel, please forgive all the awful words I used but most of all please forgive all the things I never did....
I’m no writer, who I am kidding? It’s been 2 weeks with nothing to do but write and I haven’t written a word. I’m no artist, I have been dead inside longer than I can remember...
I feel lonely, and frustrated and hopeless... I feel miserable. And I know misery we spend quite a long time writing an essay about it with my sisters. I’m sorry my sisters, I’ve let you down in so many ways, the same to my father and not to mention my mother’s.... boy I screwed up big time.... I’m so sorry, I couldn’t keep my grades up, and I’m sorry I wasn't able to be the person you needed me to be.
I’m sorry I failed my teachers, I’m sorry I disappointed all my... acquaintances....
I’m sorry god, yes you my dear god, whom I haven’t spoken to since those long rides in my school bus, I’m sorry I never truly learned all u told me... I’m sorry my guardian angel, I worn out your energies to help me.
most of all, I’m sorry my friends, you know who you are even if u don’t who I am, I failed in this life, I just couldn’t make it... I love u with all my soul, with all my being, I hope u find a way forgive me... and I know well meet again in the end and beginning of all times... I may just be a little late.
Finally I feel sorry for myself, yes I’m sorry I couldn’t be the person I dreamt up to be. I’m sorry I let opportunities pass, I’m sorry I let valuable people go, I’m sorry I can’t travel in time and change the past, I’m sorry, o so sorry.... I’m sorry, my dear book, Nikolas, Joan, Eli and Alnitak...I’m sorry I may never finish your story... I’m sorry you’re doomed in oblivion because of my lack of talent, imagination and will...
Please dear reader I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I made you read this, I’m sorry I profaned language in devious and empty words, the only consolation I can give you is... yes teenagers tend to be very dramatic.

(8 days late)

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Slipping through Time

Slipping through Time
by Marina Tsvetaeva

Perhaps the finest victory
over time and gravity
is to pass without leaving a trace,
casting not even a shadow on the wall.
Perhaps it's best to renounce it all,
erase your image from the mirror
and steal by like Lermontov in the Caucasus
without upsetting the stones.
Maybe it would be more entertaining
had Bach's finger never prodded the organ's echo
Maybe if you simply dissolved
and left no ashes for the urn.
If you lied your way out
and were expunged from the latitudes
slipping through time like an ocean
whose waters were never disturbed.

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Loneliness


I was 16 months in my first school, 72 months in my second school, another 10 months in my third school and another 60 in my last school... plus the 4 months I’ve been in collage
All these are a bunch of 162 months or about 4860 days of sharing with people about 8 hours a day, every week day for more than 10 years. Want to know how many friends I’ve made?


None.




(38 days late)

Monday, August 11, 2008

I cant believe im writing a journal again.

I cant believe im writing a journal again. Its been so long, and pretty much nothing has changed except I now know what i want to do with my luife, i want to be a writer. Stupid huh?... well, i may not ever get published, but i want to write a story, a good one.

I'm  going through a crucial moment, Im finishing highschool and im screwing everything up. I realized im completely alone in the world and that theres absolutely no one for me.

 well, THATS a good 1st entry... theres nothing better to attracty an udience than to show them the tortutred thats writing. Now everyone will like to know abt me.
-yeah right-

I know im feeling what everyone feels at this stage of their lifes but if thats true then the entire world sucks and im not just being a nadaist without reason, there is a whole philosophy as a backgroud.

But its just to painful to write it down.


(83days late)

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

I have failed today..

I have failed today...I’ve failed, maybe it was too soon, maybe is just because it isn’t real. I tried to be someone I’m not, I tried to be another way, I tried to be just the person I want to be, and it didn’t work.  

Monday, December 31, 2007

He is my demon master

He is my demon master, he is that little person that wakes up all the nasty things I have inside me. I just can’t stand to hate and want someone that much at the same time.
I met him during my first days at the new school, a skinny little guy, with a Ralph Macchio syndrome going on. He has tanned skin, black eyes and black hair. He has a cute body, but a horrible voice. Anyway he is the most bullied person in the whole school, he is pretty annoying, and very submissive someone you just want to humiliate to his bones. I was pretty shocked he was from my class but didn’t really care; he was kind to me at first he must have really thought we were going to end up being friends.
That was until I heard a lot of humiliating stories about him, how they broke all his stuff, played soccer with his schoolbag, throw him to puddles etc. so once I was drinking some juice in the bus and he asked me some, I dint thought it much but I just poured some of it over him. He asked why, but I just said that I liked to be soaked with juice, and that if he wanted some of mine he would have to let me pour things over him. So he accepted, I started with juice and water, every chance I got I just soaked him up. He seemed to enjoy it and so did I. I remember clearly poring juice over his head and shirt in the bus; I also remember throwing juice over him from the second floor at school. 
Then I came up with this rule “I’ll never give you anything unless you are humiliated" he accepted and that was pretty humiliating for starters. People in the bus started to notice the water pouring, so we made up we were in water fight. So I had to get water once in a while, we even took turns to pour water on each other. People really enjoyed seeing Obsidian get humiliated I poured water down his chest, back, head and shoes. Once he even got balloons to school to make water fight. For some reason I still don’t understand I felt sick and couldn’t play. I remember he got all the balloons and poured the water over him really slowly.
One time the entire bus was watching us pouring water on each other. And I made him sit, and made him bend over, so I could see his back, but I got the water bottle and poured the water inside the back of his pants, people loved it and shouted Obsidian lot of things, Obsidian wasn’t willing to receive all the insults so he did to me the same. I really enjoyed the little stream of water going from my lower back down and feel my underwear get slowly wet, the people shouting, the humiliation, it was great. After that I made him sit up straight, I got the front part of his pants waistband and poured cold water inside. People yelled a lot more, the I got mi hands over his belt and took it off, then got my hands over the fly and unzipped it I opened his pants as much as I could, I got a pretty great shot to a really cute and really tight pair of ridiculous mickey mouse briefs, the were white with mickey mouse faces all over them. I got the water poured almost all of what was left of the water over them. Obsidian kind of jumped a little bit I immediately held his pants opened and saw his briefs get soaked completely. After that I arrived home I and let him completely soaked in the bus.
That wasn’t the last time he got his underwear soaked that way, we had kind of a ritual now, I kept bringing water and he just got his belt off and opened his pants for me to pour it over his briefs. he rarely wanted to do it over my boxers something I regret, he said that with boxers on wasn’t fun, so I bought a pair of briefs like his and I got him to do it once or twice not very good. I wanted to be humiliated as I have humiliated him. But he just wouldn’t. Then it got a little bit heavier. He had a really old school uniform, and his gym shirt was all ripped over the shoulders. Once while pouring water over his chest I got my hands over his shoulders and ripped his gym shirt, it was really great seeing his chest that way. He sews it for the next morning and I had to beg him like for a month to let me rip his shirt completely. 
One day he brought another shirt to school and told him that I could destroy that one, I said that the fun was in hem having it on. On the bus I made him take his gym shirt off, and put the one he brought, on. I got really excited and ripped that shirt too fast so I really couldn’t enjoy it as much as I would have liked, anyway I made him stay with the ripped shirt all the way, and minutes before I arrived home made him swap shirts again... that cute chest,  a boy's one. I got to rip his shirt again... and made him beg like a dog… then I made him close his eyes, I licked his face and chest. In the end of the year he gave me his gym shirt as a present. I still have it in case he is willing to get humiliated like that again. Then we were at his house… we played bomber man on the dream cast. His sister played... she treated him pretty badly.
Than it was, what Obsidian called the lowest point; once we were arguing in the bus he started acting stupidly (as always) and bends over like he had done on the water incident. I told him that if he didn’t sit up right I will give him a wedgie, he didn’t know what that was, and so I just got my hands on his aquamarine tiny briefs and pulled them over as hard as I could. After that it was wedgie time every time, I really enjoyed it sometimes I just grab his undies and kept them pulled up during the whole time in the bus. Then I got to give him a really vicious wedgie and ripped his tiny gray briefs off. After that he said he had gone to low, it was a really hard wedgie and Begged to me to stop. He said he had toughed the bottom, but I kept humiliating him for a while more. Than he started acting like a dog, and obeyed all my commands he even gave himself wedgies and melvins, I love seeing giving himself some melvins he has great abs and the most cute briefs collection ever… once I got him to pee himself after gym class. Then he was my personal doll, he would stay still and I could do with him whatever I wanted, I gave him wedgies Melvins shirt locked him. I wanted to Keg him but he never let me.
He also asked me for help in an English text, I told him to humiliate himself; he kneeled down and kissed my feet, ha has also eaten garbage for food and told me humiliating stories about him. 
Now we hate each other with all our hearts, we have fought so many times, for some reason I have told him all my fetishes and that I’m bisexual. Now he thinks he has the power and doesn’t let to be humiliated that easy. He is still humiliated by everyone at school. Although he now has a bully "friend “that uses him to get access to his PS2. I wish I could make him my humiliation slave or make him my master. He is really annoying and brings out of me the worst things. When he is around I just lose my mind, and become the most despicable person ever. 
Pretty much of what I know about myself is kind of root in my philosophical, ideas, my religious ides, my love ideas, even my aesthetic ideas... and everything I find great..... But I’m freaked about my sexual ideas, I’ve been tortured my whole life with em, it’s beyond sad, it’s pathetic.

(16 days late)

Tuesday, April 3, 2007

School-days, I believe, are the unhappiest in the whole span of human existence.

School-days, I believe, are the unhappiest in the whole span of human existence. They are full of dull, unintelligible tasks, new and unpleasant ordinances, brutal violations of common sense and common decency. It doesn't take a reasonably bright boy long to discover that most of what is rammed into him is nonsense, and that no one really cares very much whether he learns it or not.
H. L. Mencken

Why do I study?  Why am I studying? Why am I wasting my time this way? It’s no secret I don’t enjoy school, in any way, I hate it in every way... I hate my closed-minded friends, gym class, the self-proclaimed know-it all teachers, the useless subjects (including the ones I chose), that without counting; waking up at 5:30 every day, the soft-core bullies, the choking, the lame humiliation, people in my bus, overpriced things at the copy shop, long lines at the cafeteria, kneeling down every time to open my locker, feeling so stupid... etc.
But now I think of something that does really bothers me of being in school, I simply CANT be ME; That is, the person that writes this, it’s another person than the one that goes to school or lives at home. I don’t know if I’m making sense, it’s like if when I sit and write over here, another person takes over... Never the less the person that writes here is the person I’m more comfortable with being. I like being the person that writes. Unfortunately it doesn’t exist anywhere else. The moment I speak to someone else, he disappears and runs to put all kinds of masks to show the person, everyone think they know. And there comes times where masks are so many and so heavy that I suffocate and I can’t breathe and is like if suddenly I had stopped controlling it, like if I had lend my body to someone. And now it seems everyone is living and I'm just watching and I could just break down and no one would notice or know why it is.
That’s why I can’t take it anymore, what recently happened at my diary was the top, having to close it down just because someone at school had found it… the fact of having to shut up because of my school, has been one of the most humiliating things in my life. I got totally silenced by the world that surrounded me, because of a stupid guy with a promise to make my life a living hell... 
Sometimes... (Like all the time) I’d like to leave school. just stop feeling a moron and numb, stop hiding who I am, start doing something I really enjoy, cut all those fake friends and stupid jokes; no more sadistic comments, immature sayings, gum in my hair, laughs at my back and other nasty things I don’t want to remember. Maybe if I leave school leave school, I could keep on studying at home, at my own rhythm... no pressures, no more tests or homework; it will all depend on me.
Self-sufficiency, it would be the first mayor thing done by myself.
I just don’t know how to sit down again one hour in front of an exam without a clue of what I have to do, and watch how the time goes on, with my paper clear and my head in blank, waiting for someone who will miraculously see you in all your despair and help you. Or maybe just stop studying at all... I could live up by my talents or something... of course despite the fact I have none.
In school everything is just so unfair, tons and tons of homework. They say that that kind of work is to raise our academic levels and have better grades than the ones last year, but how can you raise our academic levels by pushing us to hard in one year without previous preparation, twice as work the ones had last year, less recuperation opportunities and an increased demand for quality in our homework (?). Besides there’s a lot of time for small petty humiliations, all you get there are insults and stupid questions, besides comments and orders from the hideous teachers.
Maybe I’m just not feeling right, maybe because after gym class "is" impossible to feel right. First you are all sweaty and dirty; from the entire pushups you miserably try to do on the ground because of being the last to get to the teacher, after running 3 times around the football field. But generally there is the subconscious bonus of seeing other cute and hot guys in the same state. Now that is a great thing for specially two cuties in my class. One is a tall blond guy, with a really great body, dirty blond hair, charismatic personality and what really makes it unique is that is very, very, very smart.
I remember that during my first year in that school I had a dream about him; we were in a peer together and I can’t remember why he jumped in the water fully clothed... and then I guess he took of his clothes off in the water leaving his boxers, and gave them to me, then I would throw them far away and he would swim to get it and put it on again... it was really hot and fun... 
He, like most guys who have a great body at school, has an unconsciously method of showing it, so we, all the fat wimps feel more as losers than the rest most of time, the amazing ability of making the uniform look good on them, in a kind of sporty way, besides keeping always the shirt up in the most creative ways, so we all can see his fabulous abs, besides having the pants kind of pulled down so the underwear is always visible.
To say there are no hotties in my school would be a major lie, there are many, especially in 7th, 8th and 9th grade. Some with beautiful eyes, a cute face, or a great body... most of them I keep on watching all the time and I have to keep reminding myself not to stare much.
School is just a place to be unhappy, stupid laws, and absolute monarchy by teacher’s directives or soft-core bullies. It’s a place where people live with fear and confusion, mindless acts and memorizing useless and absurd stuff instead of learning. 
I just don’t know what’s going on ... I had a problem with my head group teacher, (which happens to be my head teacher too :$ ) we started arguing about something really stupid until she came with the most stupid argument I’ve ever heard:
- You do it when I say it, it’s not your choice - she said already freaked out - why? - I asked reasonably - just because- she replied even more stupidly - and if you don’t like it you can leave! - - well thanks...- I said, and left the class room.
It all happened so fast I couldn’t swallow it... what?!? It’s not my choice?!? “Just because?!?” what kind of argument is that? What kind of answer is that for an almost 50 year’s old shrunken woman? I mean she obviously studied math because has terrible problems with self-esteem… I would I looked like her. Maybe she needs to follow orders and formulas so she doesn’t have to think about anything… and avoid the fact of her own existence. Why do I always think of what to say when is too late?
but after all I had a chance to say part of what I said, when she handed me the detention card where I am supposed to give my opinion on what I think, and I’m sure I told Delilah something she didn’t like, that’s why she went down to the principal and took me out of chemistry class to chat or I better say criticize and fend for herself.
What I wrote was something like this:
“Who are you to decide what is ok or not? Beside I think the teacher should learn to give a more strong argument than 'just because’, answers should be according to the age… and oh, by the way... it is always my choice."
But just as I came in the comments on school moral started, mental disorder or nonsense rebellion started, all kinds of judgments against me were heard in the place, but specially bothered me the one that said that I wasn’t reasonable with my words and thoughts. I tried to say what I thought and argument my position but words failed me I suppose... And I started to be at their side. I hate that so much! Beside it was two against one and that is cowardly. The principal treated me as a mental idiot that could not understand where I was standing on.
First they said I had insulted Delilah’s moral authority... is there any moral authority? Actually I don’t think there is, but if there should be one, that, it should be mine, the one I choose, not one someone has imposed upon me. Laws should not be imposed they should be proposed and accepted by consent. For me, my answer to Delilah’s comments might have not been what she wanted or expected, but surely was what I need it. If I had stayed quiet and obeyed would have meant to give up my rights and thoughts, to kneel down and just repent, was giving up any value to what I think or what I am.
My dilemma: "why study?" there could be an award such as "knowledge" (yeah right) or a diploma to work or get to collage. But there could be a menace too, like the fear to be a looser (my case) or to be afraid of rejection by the family or friends.
Why it is the guys at my school are so into soft-core bullying stupidly, yeah not into hard bullying just common nonsense bullying. Why are guys so stupid, it’s like having people emotionally and spiritually retarded, maybe I’m generalizing and I know it’s not fair? This reminds me of something a girl said "men have a huge space in the brain, between thinking and feeling, that’s why they can feel and think but not at the same time". It just sometimes seems men are not thinking anything at all... but.... that’s impossible.
I mean chase a ball for two hours... complain about it and plan strategies to do it better the next time. Just like hazing. In my school, it may be funny the first time, and maybe the second, but when you keep on doing it the same way and expecting a different reaction is just maniac. I wish they would just stop it or do it really hard, for a change.
Why it is that abandoning school is seen as such a bad thing or ridiculous. My head group once said something I considered very offensive. "You only exist to study". She obviously has no idea of what is going on my mind, and how much I need to believe that is not true. But anyway, don’t teachers get that they have no rights if we don’t have them, I mean we are the ones paying a miserable salary so they just speak their shit, and hold up their tongue when it comes to their thoughts or comments.
I am just so tired of feeling so stupid, I can’t defend an argument and it always seems I’m making the worst ridiculous thing, and no one understands me or gets me and I feel so dumb... maybe I’m just retarded, I don’t get things the way most people do, and that makes me stupid. Even the closest person to me in school keeps criticizing everything I do and say all the time, everyone thinks I am the most immature being ever, the dumb one with no logic or reason. A good-for-nothing, idiot boy, with absolutely no talent for anything. I’m so tired of people thinking I am stupid, I can see it in their faces and little dissimulated glances at me.
Sometimes I just hallucinate with someone who will come out from nowhere and make my life something new and special.
Maybe I should be a dumb slave of the system study a boring career, go to church and throw everything I believe to hell because anyway I’d be unhappy.
“Always expect the worse and you won’t be disappointed”

I don’t want to belong to that school anymore. It is funny how the emigrant effect caused by violence can be seen on my class room.
It only takes two idiots (like in real life) to stand on each side of the classroom and start kicking a ball really hard to each other, without caring (or on purpose) hitting anyone who is between them. People afraid of getting hit, start to silently move to one of the sides to be save or if you are stupid enough even take part on the game
“Stupidity does not know any limits” - - - /o/ - - - “there’s no worst thing than stupidity in action”
I heard a guy talking in school with his friend about this same problem; he didn’t want to continue with this, he was tired of school as I am. After saying that, one of his friends answered this: “I know how you feel my friend, believe me, everyone at school goes through that… and that same feeling is going to last for about two months and then there’ll be nothing else but resignation”.

(1 day late)

Saturday, January 6, 2007

I just want to feel safe in my own skin

I just want to feel safe in my own skin; I just want to be happy again.
 I just want to feel deep in my own world.
But I'm so lonely I don't even want to be with myself anymore On a different day, if I was safe in my own skin, then I wouldn't feel lost and so frightened But this is today and I'm lost in my own skin And I'm so lonely I don't even want to be with myself anymore I just want to feel safe in my own skin, I just want to be happy again

20 days late)

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

During our school's cultural week, we had tons and tons of free time. Sounds like a lot of fun, but it really was disappointing. Just having that kind of time without having to work or study, really opened my eyes. It was so boring!!! I guess I just realized how stupid and empty they are. They just stressed me, their stupid routines, their cake face, their lack of maturity.
I realized that life is more than school and stupid jokes. Now I see, they have absolutely no compassion or interest for anything else. They are sadist; they love blood and see other people injured. And if that’s not enough then they'll make it more bloody and cruel up to a maximum point. To hear them talk like that gave me nausea. Then the same comments come again, and again, and again, and again.
How can people forget about pain? About feelings? Is just not right. Today we were on recess and I was reading when they kicked me in the eye with a ball. It really hurt, but no one noticed what had happened, so I don’t know why I needed to get attention or somebody to get worried, so I covered my eye like if blood had come out and ran. When I got to the bathroom I saw myself in the mirror, there I was, and a looser that no one cared about. I even got some red paint form my locker and tried to make like if blood had really come out. Then I realized how pathetic it was and washed it off. I came two of them asked how I was and what had happened. They didn’t laugh, but they didn’t cared either. Just like "if he dies, Ok, if he doesn’t, its Ok I guess”.
But the truth is I can't stand people who laughs about an afghan woman who gets killed on a football stadium like my "friends" do. Sorry. 

1 day late