Lock up

I feel, this pressure on the chest, like, of such fear that he is not around... and that I actually don’t know where he is... I don’t think function properly with the prince... his confidence; his detachment... maybe true love is like that. Not this constant yearning, heart wrecking, constant feeling...

I am not that much of an Emo... I do not cry in public... I cry a lot, but I do not cry in public... my prince... you are the only who has seen my cry. Of all my traumas... if you look closely... I cry alone...

I need to feel less... how do I feel less? I was watching this documentary on emotions... people who act on their emotions are even more addicted to the... People, who express their rage openly, are more addicted to it...

I do not express my rage... I bottle it up inside, till I want to die... and then... I cut myself...

I don’t know how to scream... or yell... I have never yelled at anyone...

On this blog... I used to talk about sex... which was virtually inexistent... but... if this is my diary... why am I not writing? About it.

This Journal... must and will have to remain, password protected. So you will have to get to guess the password, from the hint. Or just leave it.

I talked to Emma today... well we just said hi... and he reminded me of something... a year ago... I did not masturbate...

Cumming with only wedgies and water is really hard... like really hard in some cases it can take... hours... I have accomplished it... like... a few pair of times... I doubt there are more than a five (OMG)... It was so rare and so unique I didn’t count them as masturbation till very recently... when I met Daniel... maybe later...

(I need to speak about Daniel. He has acquired such dimensions... I think it was a lie... he has grown into this figure in my life... he doesn’t deserve it)

Then... I met Emma, and I don’t know... why he made masturbation with your hands look so fucking hot... the way he wrote in his journal about it... and once I tried it... and it was awesome... because I could cum... So easily... and now I masturbate till me cum much more easily... and much more quickly... and much more often...

And... Now sex... has come... too late... because I haven’t cummed during sex... I need to cum in front of the prince... I need to make him cum so much. I need him to have an orgasm... I think... that... would be the end of my virginity... getting someone to an orgasm... I need to fucking, fuck him...

I keep thinking, maybe I just need to get drunk off my ass to do it... but god... I have such an alcohol aversion... it’s such a turnoff... its cheating... lying... and I don’t want that... or maybe I do? Maybe only I could get drunk... but he would have to stay sober... one of us has to remember...

Gosh... and when he talks about sex he is so vague... I wish he would just use words to describe me why is it so hot...but I understand... finding words it’s so hard to talk about sex... he keeps promising shoat, but this is the day.. He hasn’t sent me anything... I had this story to share back... it’s like the only story of his type I’ve read... though to be honest I did skip some of the just plain sex parts.. 

He is so selfish... I asked him as politely as I could what happened if he got the chance to travel again for sex... and I so desperately wanted him to tell me, "I’d make you come with me... because I’m sure you have fun"... but no... I don’t think if I’ve told him enough how much I envy his sex, how much I’d like to experience an orgy... even though yeah... its cares me like hell. He just refuses to share... how much I would love to be in his art lessons... but he hasn’t invited me... how much I’d like to be like him... and be better for him... but he just doesn’t invite me to... he has never sent a song... or shared a picture... or like done anything I haven’t asked before... I know that he gives when he is asked. He just doesn’t offer... he just doesn’t push... I shouldn’t have been the one to ask him out on the first date... maybe then I would be sure he wants me around...

I could think one of these things... either he is in love with someone as broken as I am and just doesn’t want me to evolve and come back to life... or... he just doesn’t love me enough... or maybe he just is that selfish everything needs to be asked... though when he does give... he gives generously... I fucking ripped his boxer’s god!!!!

Am I asexual?!!! asexual people do not hit on Emo boys on MySpace.... do not ask girls on msn to have virtual sex... do not bang 17 year olds in collage facilities... maybe I’m not asexual at al... Just some closeted homosexual... who just doesn’t dream of fucking boys... I’m so screwed... I right now, just want to fuck him.  the prince... just let him do whatever he wants to do... he want me to fuck him... fuck him real hard... he wants me to cum inside him... god... he wants that... someone actually wants that from me... I want to do it... but I don’t want to cheat at it... I want it to be ME fucking, I want him to just arghh... ask me this... this way... plead to me for it.... maybe while he is wearing a collar... maybe after I have just ripped his boxers off... then I fuck him, and fuck him really hard... cum with him...

Right now, I’m turned on... by this words...of having him deliciously naked, over me, his skin, against my skin, his cock against my cock. His smell... he has this smell... I haven’t managed to describe it... it has a sweetness... a raw sweetness... nah that’s not the word... it just smells, like I have been touched by a prince... by love... that there’s someone that cares about me.... he smells like I’m not alone anymore... like there’s someone I can put my arms around to... how can something smell like that? But it does... it does to me... it smells like: God I want this!!!

As corny as it sounds... I don’t want to always have sex, or do my things with the prince...

I’m starting to think that I do not love the prince like he loves me. I think he loves me more... and here comes the dilemma... should I tell him... god... prince... I don’t love you the way you love me...

I haven’t told him, how really fucking scared I am to tell my mom about him... and that I do think, that my relationship can be... scarred... that I wish I could hug him in public oh so often I didn’t feel the need bringing him home... that I feel... that I just don’t belong with him ever... if we are alone, it’s the window... or the time, my family will come back...

Love is about honesty... and here I’m honest with him.... either that or an act of self-sabotage... I’m going to lock up this journal... from now till forever… 

(4 days late)

I’m destroying myself for him.

Right now I feel I’m destroying myself for him... I’m writing love letters to him... and as they go on and on...  I am more and more convinced that I don’t love him or that he doesn’t love me... I’m falling out of love... and I will go back to being doomed...

I should be telling him how much I love him, how much I want him, how much I wish he will be happy. How much I don’t want to hurt him, how much I wish I was his confident, how much I wish I did not make a video of everything we discuss.

He needs someone that would make him smile, not exasperate him, he needs someone who he can make love to every so often... someone that can invite him over his apartment all the time. Who can drive him to school.... ok maybe he doesn’t need to... maybe he just deserves to. Someone who can spoil him. If I was him... that’s what I would aim for, he deserves it... and he can get it...

I’m doing it his way, I’m going to have random sex today, for the very first time in my life, I just called someone for sex... someone I don’t really have feelings for. Just someone for sex... get it over with. Just not be passionate, not be in love... don’t make a video out of it. Why do I wish the prince the will call me and say... no Xag, don’t do it... or better yet... here: take this advice...?

Let me fall

I asked the prince... who were you before me?

He didn’t remember...

I for one, I feel I am still my past, my present and my future, I feel like that same 5 year old I that broke his best friends little pony...that little 6 year old that shit his pants in 1st grade... like the suicidal 10 year old that sunk his nails on an obnoxious blonde girl... the 12 year old that couldn’t bear to take his shirt off in the swimming pool... the 14 year old that was systematically rejected in school and discussed openly in class... the 16 year old that sat fat and ugly in front of the most hideous sea... I’m still the irresponsible 18 year old that was too weak to know what he really wanted out of life and chose the wrong major... 

You my prince... you are kid at being conscious... I remember... I am still all of who I ever been... all my ups and downs, all my glory and all my despair, I am all... you said you started to rebuild yourself. I’ve been rebuilding myself since forever; always constantly... no matter how I rebuild the outcome is this. Utter ugliness... I am still that same kid that puked every morning in the bus to school; I am still the teenager whose friends were the eternal losers... I am still the one who has to take out the only girl left at the table... I am still so embarrassed by my very existence I have to ask for forgiveness every time I see the only person that seems to care for the dirt bag I am...

you... you... you are still... conscious about society... your place in it... you homophobia... this is too ameinian... this too straight... and it inhibits your actions... see you are still living separate lives at home and at school, and with your friends... all separate worlds and realities... you don’t even act the same with the other people you have been intimate with... you are still getting drunk and getting laid... I’m feel I’m so over that... I’m so over from hiding from my family... I’m so over speaking to people differently because of social rules... from seeking physical love... I guess... I just... gave up on myself... it’s been too long,... too much... it’s just,... not going to go anywhere... maybe not even with my prince... you are to late... you are a cosmic coincidence that just arrived too late...

Ok... I’m crying now... why do I feel the need of just state the fact I’m crying now? I don’t believe my words are strong enough

I keep... screaming at you...

I keep... screaming to you... the universe... through comics; through stories, through the things you loved... everything.

Love is... Lois and Clark... Barbie and ken... They go through all kinds of incarnations, events, situations... just see each other, to meet each other, over and over and over again... because they love it so much.

Don’t expect the truth Xag.... don’t expect it to be revealed to you... you expect happiness... you expect nothingness... you expect, absolute and the divine... don’t expect. 

Choose... if you want those things you will have them, you can create them, you can choose them.

Don’t be stupid... don’t be an idiot! I know you like to hear the prince talk, let him teach you, but doesn’t pretend you don’t know… when you do. 

Sounds tough to hear it... but I speak so much to you... it hurts me you don’t listen. Yes gods can be hurt.

Ask the marquise de Sade girl out. Tell the prince first. He is amazing... you’ve seen him; you are getting to know him. 

Listen to Len. You’ve seen his wisdom too... his experience... yes its weird how many people choose to feel like you do... and yes you have chosen to do so.

You are free... you chose everything, everything in this moment, everything you have made, you have chosen.

Apologize.

Don’t let the world frighten you... you are beyond it. That’s what brings suffering to those you admire; they are frightened about the world. Don’t fear it, embrace it... I say this, because I know this is what you want. I know you think about suicide, I know you think about pain... but you are so desperately in search of life.

Publish that damn suicide letter… you are never going to use it.

Be smart... be conscious.... listen to people. Trust your instincts... don’t wait for someone to kiss you... Kiss someone.

Keep sharing yourself... you are in the right way, follow your own advise.... speak words that are true... think them carefully... do not fear silence.

Don’t expect immediate changes. Don’t expect your life to change after this, read it... re-read it.... re read your life... read this stupid diary! Read your book!

want to be suicidal... then be it... but be the kind of suicidal you wish to be... a happy one... want to cut yourself and be an addict... but then be the kind of addict you want to be... a sane one. Be who you want to be... doing expect to become, just be!

How do you do this?

By making choices, by doing the homework when you are supposed to be doing, it, by listening to other people. By asking them questions... people miss so much of each other by not asking simple questions... like... do you believe in god? Or... what do you feel when you taste candy?

Don’t be afraid to be intense, be cautious on when are you not being who you are.

Just read this words, because they are wise, you are wise, don’t analyze of they are true or not, if they are mine or not... just think about them, just read them again...print them out.

Xag. You are close to me. Xag, you are beautiful... I know you think its freaking lie, but I wouldn’t be saying it if you really didn’t to hear it. And it seems you need to hear it from me, because you won’t hear it from anyone else. You are beautiful and you do deserve someone you think is beautiful. Now Stop procrastinating and choose what you have to do.

(1 day late)

Yesterday, I was going to definitely end things with Joshua, he knew it and then out of nowhere… I just told him I loved him. I’m insane, completely acting at random, not being coherent with my mind… perhaps that’s love, and not being coherent… so I just said it... I don’t think I had ever said this to a guy… anyway, after I said it… I was still going to get done with him... I said good bye… and I was going to block him… and I just started at his nickname on msn… my mouse over it… it must have been like 15 minutes… and I couldn’t make up my mind.. And then he talked to me… and he KNEW… he knew I was going to delete him… I don’t know if I’m that obvious or he just reads me to well… but he knew… and then I couldn’t block him at all.

 The refusal to accept love, the refusal to respond to it, that precisely is the meaning of Hell. Hell is not a place where God puts us; it’s a place where we put ourselves. The doors of Hell, insofar as they have locks, have locks on the inside. - Kallistos 

(4 days late)

The last few entries… are the worst side of me…

The last few entries… are the worst side of me… I hate me… I want to sit still forever and ever, and ever… I don’t want to write ever again… I don’t want to speak ever again… I don’t want to get dressed, or straighten my hair… or sit on a chair… why are chairs so uncomfortable? Why it is while I write all this things… everything in stupid journal… the world keeps revolving around me… I’m waiting for it, to stop and change… that why I did everything… I just genuinely thought, that if I wrote my life would change… it won’t… its stupid, like expecting ritual chants to cure diseases... or car horns to make traffic lights change faster… My pathetic excuse for existence it’s coming to an end… at least to you… I’m not genuinely mad… I’m just tired… just too tired to carry on… not tired like I’m tired eventually… I’m just giving up… for real… tonight, I’m going to give up, on myself. I know this is probably not in the secret, but it’s all I can do… I come from a family of quitters… from a country of losers, from an education of conformists… I’m going to do all I can really do… quit… take the notebook I use for my book out of my notebook and leave it home. Pack up my justice league toys… give away my comics to recycle… and stop using English… stop fighting to get fit in the system, stop trying get good grades with no effort… I will stop hurting people, which I try so hard to do, to get recognized by them… I will stop smiling… I will stop reading… needless to say… I will stop this, drawing, and or doing vids … all together … I don’t want to yell ever again… I don’t even want to ever listen to music ever again… I just quit… I quit, not defeated, just too tired, to sad, to dead inside to carry on… let’s just see… if this is something I will succeed at…

I keep searching

My emotional support system has resided in sporadic kind words from strangers who assure me I do have something. Only the people whom I’ve called "friends" (more out of desperation than from real sense of friendship) have told me I’m really not going to make it, and if I do, it will take me years and years.

I know have no serious expectations from publishing anything in the next 5 to 10 years. Actually the thought that I will die without ever seeing my work "out" is even more persistent. I’m haunted by this thought that my work will be meaningless while I live. Even when I think of the moment I finish my book... I think, I must die after or otherwise it will all be just pointless.

I guess, what I’m really hoping is for someone to tell me, that I’m terribly wrong, that I made mistake, a terrible mistake... that writing was not my thing, but to do something else, something I’m truly great at and I just haven’t realized!

I’m back waiting for a savior… 

(31 days late)

There are some perks to living in a warzone...

There are some perks to living in a warzone... first you develop the ability of sleeping through almost anything; Gunshots and minor explosions for example. You get to see the dark side of life since forever, you learn to live in a truly rotten society (you guys think your health care is broken? here is basically inexistent!). You learn the rules to live in no man’s land, to not expect anything from your government and that the answer to most (if not all) problems is definitely money.

You learn to look beyond the general moral rules of good and evil. The values system is different, it does not hurt at all that fellow citizens dies in a massacre, it doesn’t hurt that children are starving, that your maid, the woman who babysit you your whole life, prepared your meals, and washed your underwear kidnapped children of others people for ransom in her spare time.

You learn that one block away there is a center for prostitution and drugs (not to consume... but to export of course). You learn that politics are corrupt to the bone, and that the downside of that matter is not to be in it... 

You also learn to objectively look at a situation no matter the amount of casualties. You look beyond the massacre to see whose fault is it really is, not only here but anywhere else, being Iraq or Vietnam, it does not matter the time or space.

But most importantly you find that problems cannot be solved, at least not without extreme radical change (and that unfortunately means taking the rough decisions)... so where does this leaves this image that Colombian is passion? That Colombia is a better land for tomorrow... where does this leave all our goodness and expectations...

Well today the country was indeed paralyzed for an hour, where everybody just halted to show the terrorist that we had enough. Now, I'm very critical of my country's situation, but I must admit I had not experienced this ever, and god knows there have been marches, manifestations and all sorts of crap during my lifetime. Yet, today was something Huge. Why I say that? Because I was involved me... it reached me, I live on a part of the city that is pretty much excluded from what happens and it even got here... it was something... an hour where you wear a white shirt and say: "yes we can still dream of something better"

I take a step back ... I stagger.

 2:45 AM

There is no pain at this moment

only the tormented silence of this vast space,

of this misunderstood loneliness.

There will be no more sunrises in our lives ...

Just like the chimeras that we desire,

and like the afflictions we hate

were born from what's dead of our souls.

Dead are our hearts,

incinerated by the flames they once loved!

The earth will kiss our bodies

welcoming our last breaths ...

Only in this moment that we hold on

can we recognize our past.

A feeling floats in the morning haze ...

For an instant its shape is recognizable ...

And between the coldness of our bodies without passion,

fades and dies.

For the agony of not being animals

our hand can take the initiative

and trace a strip of suns

where fear is greater than our hopelessness.

A gag on the soul

a knot in the throat and ...

Only the clouds that contemplate us

can know the dark of our history.

The breeze carries our laments

more in the depths of our emptiness

something urges us not to give up yet.

Today the black storm clouds

will not be a promise of life,

and lost childhoods will not be restored.

On the precipice of our abandonment

nor the thick forest of yesteryear

nor the cold current of the years

may prevent our last blind step ...

Our body shudders against something infinite,

something that does not listen to explanations.

I can see the waves hitting the rocks!

I take a step back ... I stagger.

The pounding of the waves is so vigorous ...

A strange calm invades me ...

Where fear and anguish abounded

now the white foam highlights everything;

where hatred and insecurity lived,

now the breeze softens everything ...

Only the rays of the Sun, which give us life

can know the beauty of our death.

For Miguel Ángel Villegas,

with love, from his father.

God?

 Yeah?

 I have problem

No! Really?! 

No need to be sarcastic.

... The girl I like talks to you…

 But I think you tell her something different than you tell me so... l, are you lying?

 Of course not.

Lying would imply saying something that is not true, and everything is true.

 She thinks I am a sinner 

You are sinner

You told her you spoke to god.

She asked me what you answered me back when I spoke to you... I lied 

What did you say? 

I said you always replied the same thing: yes.

 Well, you certainly omitted my neat sense of humor and sarcasm. 

I know... I don’t know why id did it.

 You don’t believe it’s me anymore

I do.... I do believe this is you

 Then why didn’t you tell her. 

I don’t know... 

I guess I was afraid I would come out as a raving lunatic, I told her... I was god. 

Which is true? 

Yeah, for you and me who understand it? 

But for her... must have sounded insane... 

Can you talk to her? 

I will 

Thanks she is bit stubborn

 I know

\(4 days late)

Finally I got someone to help me out with a vid…

Finally I got someone to help me out with a vid… in the rain! Got thoroughly soaked. It was silly and fun, I really enjoyed it.

(7 days late)

The authentic details of the extraordinary suicide of Miss Moyes

The authentic details of the extraordinary suicide of Miss Moyes

The Times, for example, fully described the gory details of the appearance of the body but used Latinate terms like "cranium" and "integument" to sound clinical rather than sensational:

Upon examination of the body, it was found that the spine was fractured as also the back of the cranium, but the features are in no way disfigured, save by the appearance of coagulated blood forced from the nostrils, eyes, and mouth by the sudden concussion; the left arm is severed just above the elbow, and is only retained in its place by the integuments and the sleeve of the dress. (LT, 12 Sep. 1839, p. 435, col. 4)

The Observer, though an upper-middle to upper-class paper, offered its Sunday readers something far more dramatic than such dissecting-room language: [39/40]

Her left arm, near the shoulder, came in contact with the bar, and was so violently severed that the part cut off flew over the iron railings several yards into the square. After striking the bar, the body fell an a tub containing a lilac plant, which it broke in pieces, as well as several flower pots, placed on the right side of the door. Not a sign of life, except some contortions of the muscles of the legs and arms, was discernible on the body when it was picked up. (Observer, 15 Sep. 1839, p.1 col. 6)

http://www.victorianweb.org/books/suicide/03.html

Interior

Interior                      

It sheds a shy solemnity,
This lamp in our poor room.
O grey and gold amenity,--
Silence and gentle gloom!
Wide from the world, a stolen hour
We claim, and none may know
How love blooms like a tardy flower
Here in the day's after-glow.
And even should the world break in
With jealous threat and guile,
The world, at last, must bow and win
Our pity and a smile.

1926

The legend tells that:

At noon on April 26, 1932 Hart Crane yelled, "Goodbye everyone," and jumped off the deck of the S. S. Orizaba to voluntarily submit to death in some undetermined point off the Florida coast.

In this way he put the end to the most heartbreaking of his texts his own life.

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.

"Don't tell my mother, she has a heart condition."

"Don't tell my mother, she has a heart condition."
- note from suicidal #500 that jumped off the Golden Gate

Sincerely: Not fit.

"'Survival of the fittest.'

 Goodbye.

Sincerely: Not fit."

- Anonymous Suicide Note.

Its me again... its weird

Well... Life Goes on

I needed to mourn and I'm happy to do it now

I needed to mourn and I'm happy to do it now. I just feel I could do so much if I had him next to me, my best friend. I feel it could all be so easy and so simple, I could improve many things. I need you...

I’ve been talking to Xag, why the hell? I keep treating him... me… as another person, people say you should always be your best friend, but I think I'm separating the Xag side of me to become my best friend ... I want to be him, but he knows too much ... I asked him to cry with me, crying for being alone with not best friend, but he only responded with phrases like "you know you'll have it.”.

Why is he separating from me? He must have a weakness ... I see his eyes are watery, he hurts for me, cries for me....

Ok this is crazy talk... I see a person sit there and mourn and I desperately want to be him. I just want that. I hate my life ... I’d better go to sleep…

(4 days late)

But I'm not broken, in my dream I win

In here I'm nothing, a Cosmic Castaway

But I'm not broken, in my dream I win

And I take over, coz I'm no loser

And I'm in and you're not, bad dreams don't stop

But I'm all screwed up, a Cosmic Castaway,

And I want but have not

Bad dreams, lust thoughts

In here with no pain, you hurt me again

And I want but have none

I should beat the alien

But here I'm no one, a Cosmic Castaway

I miss my friends, if they ever were, while I walk in the street or the mall whenever I see a couple or group of friends having fun... I hurt so badly.  I think  that was my last chance to get friends, it was so stupid I began my friendship with them with a lie, I think maybe Minos, Rhadamanthys and I could have been the best of friends and maybe they were the only ones with whom I could have been capable of friendship... 

Rhadamanthys I do not see often, he has not talked to me in more than a year, Minos, has kept talking to me, but I dislike him, as much as I can dislike someone. Sometimes I think it would be interesting to change schools to get out of this mess that has been my life, I accept that this school has given me so much... beauty and ugliness, and I appreciate it, but it is not possible to fix things there.

I am really scared. Some days ago how super confident I was that I was prepared to flee home to live some kind of adventure. But I couldn’t, it disappoints me, I disappoint myself again and again... I keep taking things from myself. Like if I somehow was cursed to make myself feel bad...

What is frustrating and pathetic is me dreaming to escape and do something exciting, to find something new to discover, some sort of mystery and save the world.

If anything I am victim of my own boredom, I yearn so much to do something exciting with my life, but when I look at it... I only find disappointment.

I hate part of who I am, but I am not sure which part I hate. 

That I tell lies? My disgusting physical body? My twisted mind?

Put it simply something is missing, not sure what but it’s a catalyst, a motivator.

There is nothing now that moves me to be better or to endure the life I got. I feel so many things right now, none of them good... so I’ll continue to ramble and get thoughts out of me head as they pop in...

I seem to be unable to get rid of Xag... rounding my head, he/I even visited me last night ... I was one of those trances between being asleep and awake, and suddenly appeared a perfect scene, everything was completely white and there was nothing else, I'm on the side of the room and he/I was standing just in front of me wearing only a single pair white shorts that went down to his knees, He/I told me so many things all so encouraging and all so good to hear, so perfect ... Xag ...

- "There is nothing to change! - I said - "you already are me, just let me out" -

Unfortunately I/he omitted the details as to how, but if I do I said that means to leave this life. All this must sound crazy, and part of me hopes it is. It’s always easier to commit suicide if you are insane right?

Xag is now my only inspiration, I keep thinking on being him, to experience this wonderful world that awaits me. I keep thinking about my life and how would be like as Xag and everything, including plot details connecting history milestones, moments and characters so that it all make sense.

My best friend was there too, just being perfect, but also somewhat out of place, but there nevertheless, he told me at some point (it was a quite lengthy conversation) we were going to find each other for sure, but if it was in this life or the other, it depended on many things.

What I want most in the world is a best friend, someone to accept me as I am, and someone I understand that shares my taste in things... (I think this has already been written before)

I only remember him standing by my bed and holding my hand before I finally fell asleep. It was really beautiful. True, it was a rare night the sheets became a mess and the bedpost broke as by some freak force of nature. My mom claims I woke up in the middle of the night, sleepwalking and told her I had found the key to DC comics. I have no memories of this, but she swears that I did. 

Speaking of which, a lot of things happened at New Horizons (sounds like mental health institute or rehab center) and some have been rather disturbing, the one freaking me out most is that there is a  boy around 11 years old taking the same classes as me and knows so much more than me! It makes me feel really bad ... then I had to have a little talk with the idiot who runs the center, he talked to me about taking some lame macromedia courses and take the test so I can build a CIW track, and although for some reason that sounds smarter than in the way he actually said it, the truth is that studying anything to do with computers seems like a slow path towards suicide, I am more of a philosopher, a humanitarian and an artist, not an engineer, much less a merchant, I see web design from an artistic viewpoint, I see it as a means of expression rather than as means of making money. 

I do not want to commit to something so serious, the guy is asking for loyalty and wants to send me to the States... it bothers me that this man boasts and claims he is very picky about the people around him, and how he just lets smart people at his side, and the truth I'm not sure to be an intelligent person at all if it means being around him. Also, what if I decide to be a lawyer or be in creative advertising? Or maybe an actor (todays horoscope claims that job will suit me like a glove)? Maybe a singer or an artist, or a dreamer (now that should be a career) 

My mom keeps saying I'm very antisocial, not telling me... just saying it out loud, to the walls... like stating a known fact, as if it was raining and trying to make out of it a topic of conversation. Maybe it is true, but what I can't get out of my head is what she said about me not being able of loving anyone or not accepting I could be loved by someone. Of course I'm afraid that's true, I know I do not have a very high self-esteem, but I'm sure I can love... not just love, but love in a way never seen before. Xag love. I love Xag; I know that... but am not Xag? So why the lack of self-esteem?

(5 days late)