I have wanted to run away from home...

I have wanted to run away from home...  since in some ill-fated English class we had to read: “From the Mixed up files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler”

I want to leave home and get to know who I am, solve a puzzle that bothers me so much…

Am I magical or not?

I spend a lot of my free time planning my escape. Thinking about how I am going to survive, how I’m going to pay for my adventure, what I should take and other stuff. Sometimes I choose Alnitak to go with me; she has always been in my head when I think in brother-sister adventure.

I plan on getting a compass and a tunic besides other stuff. I dream of taking my Book of shadows and go windows shopping for all this stuff as I try and make up my mind as of where I am going.

(5 days late)

Digital Suicide

Por qué suicidiodigital
(Por: Pamies)

Porque todos nosotros somos suicidas en potencia
Porque la vida nos pone al borde del abismo
y es necesario tener valor para lanzarse
como un auténtico suicida
Porque el dolor existe
y hay que tener la osadía
de soltar el lastre
Porque no es fácil encontrar
la palabra exacta
que nos libere de nuestro yo moribundo
Porque es posible cambiar de piel
Porque queremos expresarnos
como la primera vez y estamos
capacitados para ello
Porque no dudamos ante la posibilidad
de pegarnos un tajo y empezar de nuevo

 http://www.suicidiodigital.com

Getting him to willingly kiss my shoes

Sorry, I have not written in so long, but I just could not find the time or the desire to do so, I had so  much to write about and now I only want to say that lately I've been getting my way with a lot of things, wedgies, melvins, ripping his shirt, get him almost naked and even getting him to willingly kiss my shoes. There is always this fear; scaring the hell out of me... it’s no laughing matter.

(25 days late)

Nocturne

Nocturne III by Silva (translated by Luis Zalamea) 

It was evening,
a night filled with perfumes, whispers, and the music of bird’ wings;
A night
when fantastic glowworms flickered in the nuptial, humid shadows,
at my side, ever so slowly, close to me, listless and silent
as if prey to premonition of the most stinging pain
that inflamed the deep secret of your fibers,
over the path filled with flowers that stretched across the plain,
you were walking;
and the full moon
in the sky, so infinite, so unfathomable, spread its light.
And your shadow,
lean and languid,
and my shadow,
by the moon’s rays silhouetted
on the path’s sorrowful gravel,
were united
and were one,
but one long and lonely shadow,
but one long and lonely shadow,
but one long and lonely shadow…
Tonight,
desolate; my soul
by your death so bitterly pained and anguished,
torn from you by time, distance and the grave
upon that infinite blackness
where our voice cannot be heard,
lone and mute,
on the path I kept on walking…
And dogs braying at the moon came to my ears,
at the pale face of the moon,
and the croaking of the frogs.
I felt cold; the same chill that in your chamber
numbed your precious cheeks, hands and brow
amidst the snow-white linens
of the funereal shroud.
It was frost out of the tomb, it was the ice of the dead,
and the chilliness  of the void…
And my shadow,
sketched out by the paleness of the moon,
walked alone
walked alone,
walked alone upon the prairie;
and your shadow, lean and graceful,
pure and languid,
as in that warm spring evening long ago,
as in that night filled with perfumes, whispers and the music of bird’ wings,
approached me and walked with mine,
approached me and walked with mine,
approached me and walked  mine… Oh embraced shadows!
Oh the shadows of the bodies mingling with the shadows of the souls!
Oh shadows that search each other in tear-filled and somber nights!

On the morning of 24 May 1896, a housemaid found Asunción Silva dead in his bed with a gun near his body; he had shot himself in the heart the night before. 

I think my whole life has been one long suicide note….

Haven’t all my actions, all my thoughts, all my beliefs been a testament to how I need to say good bye to this lie… 

I think I must start by the beginning… the first time I thought of suicide, I was nine years old… I hurt a girl in school… I held her arms so tightly… my fingernails sinking into her skin… I grasped with all my strength, I just wouldn’t let go… I think half a minute passed, it certainly felt like longer, I held her in pain, and she started to cry… I think somehow I enjoyed it… Finally I let go, and I ran to the boys’ room…

There, I saw the sink… and thought I could fill it up and drown myself… if I died, I would be the victim…

But I wasn’t brave enough… I was afraid if I survived what would my mother think about my wet clothes… so I got into a toilet cubicle… and locked myself in it… 

I eventually left, but I think my soul forever stayed there….

Finally I’ve done it.  It took me a bit more than a decade, but I did it, I killed myself… 

Now I stand here with undone homework, and exams coming up… and I’m writing what are going to be my last words… 

First.

 I’m not supposed to be here… I wasn’t supposed to go over 16… like my mom, I was sure I was supposed to die at a certain age…  I was going to die at 16… that or find out I was a witch…

Since then I’ve been planning this… I researched my best, learned all I could learn… portrayed dramatically all the signs on a suicidal teen… I became depressed, my notes went down, my sleeping times changed, and for goodness sake I was sleeping about 12 hours someday… I became addicted to my pc… I started slicing my wrists….

Nothing happened, not death, not help… anything…

Finally nothingness has taken over me… I can’t bear nothingness anymore…  I tried… the first time I was actually going to kill myself with I knife while in my bed… my mom in the next room, I made a list of things I had to do before I died…

1. Play Pokémon green in English… and find mew… I never found this rom.

2. Read the entire Harry potter saga

3. write my book” well… that didn’t turn out…  between making a career I hate and resting form my pathetic life, I never got to write an organized text… so I leave to this world more than a 1000 pages of nonsense… scraps, scenes, notes and plain junk of a story that  no one will ever hear complete… 

Second

I’m sorry… I’m sorry for all the pain I caused with all my actions including this final one… I’ve apologized in my mind so much; I can’t justify it any more… 

I’m just sorry I entered so many peoples life, I didn’t mean to… I never asked too… I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough, or brave enough, or smart enough… I’m sorry I didn’t ask for help, I’m sorry… I never finished what I set up to do... im sorry I was born in this miserable country… im sorry I never loved nor let anyone love me… im sorry I never kissed a girl in the mouth… im sorry I never got a best friend to hug… im sorry I wasted my time watching tv… im sorry I spend so much money on comics… 

I’m sorry. I told so many lies… I’m sorry I never answered those phone calls… I’m sorry; I cried all the time I was in England… I’m sorry I was fetishist and a pervert… I’m sorry I wasn’t blonde and perfect…  I’m sorry I was obsessed with beauty… I’m sorry I never loved myself…. I’m sorry; I never loved anyone else… I’m sorry I didn’t finish my book, I’m sorry didn’t draw all the things I wanted to draw… I’m sorry I never got caught in the rain, I’m sorry I never enjoyed a day in the beach… I’m sorry I never knew snow, I’m sorry; I never knew a broken bone… I’m sorry knowing all I’m sorry of I still took the easiest way

I’m terribly sorry; I never had a life outside my pc… I’m sorry I wasn’t a good brother, friend, student, classmate or son… I’m sorry I wasn’t born rich…. I’m sorry I had no born talent for anything… I’m sorry I feel sorry for things I shouldn’t feel sorry… and finally I’m sorry, I never got to actually say how sorry I was…

And third…

I commit suicide because I no longer fear death... In fact it’s been a long time since I did… 

I remember being in my bed afraid of going asleep because me might stop breathing in my dreams and I wouldn’t notice… Somehow that fear changed, and became a wish… and I no longer remember how many nights I wished I would stop breathing in my dreams…

I give up… on me, I give on my strength and will… I give up, no one is to blame for my death (except for all, the awful, mediocre shitty teachers I had my whole life… so many, P.E. teachers, pc teachers, and specially philosophy teachers)

I kill myself; because I am already dead… my spirit is dead… I just don’t dream anymore… I just don’t care anymore… I just don’t hope anymore.

To my mom: … you are the best mom ever!!! This is in no way your fault… and you have to take care of my sisters… specially Mintaka… I love you mom, you were the closest person to me in my entire life… you just shouldn’t have had so many kids…

Sisters: I love you with all my heart. You rejected me first, and throughout my life the most. Not always intentionally I suppose. 

Mintaka: my baby sis… you… I love you in a way, that is beyond my understanding, I know you are going to be so great… have fun, be happy, don’t let anyone tell you who you are or who to be… stay free… and do all the things you want  as long as they don’t hurt anyone… remember, magic does exist…

Dad…you bought a car… and you daughters didn’t have a bed to sleep… I don’t hate you… I pity you… I envy you…. and admire you… you just shouldn’t have had so many kids…

Finally and as a formality be nice and cremate my body… if I end up in a coma, kill me… and try to get this letter published somewhere ok?

Heating socks

It’s nine in the evening listening to Britney and heating my socks on the lamp (It’s so cold!!!). This is not turning out right, Every day I think about it that it fascinates me to see boys with their young bodies all bruised, pants off, crying in the backyard with their underwear up to their shoulders. Like if there wasn't anything else to me...  I read  about breaking the routine and I am craving.

(22 days late)

From what I've seen I would like him (my bully) to value me a little. where he forces me to do his homework and throws dirt at me through my window and makes me do things that I don’ t want to do, things i am too scared to do.

He pushes me all the time but, he cares for me as his special irreplaceable subject to abuse. I want it to be hardcore... real punches, excessive public humiliation, wedgies, swirlies, pantsings, public stripping, kegging, spitting, stuffing things inside my underwear, i day dream he drags me around the school, plays games with me, like I'm a ragdoll or puppy... plus all the shit  Obsidiana gets at school.

(5 days late)

Today, I came to terms with something

Today, I came to terms with something, there's no doubt that I am some kind of masochist. 

And you'd probably think I mean, something deep and emotional, related somehow to my tortured psyche, but no, the simple truth is that I love the idea of boys being humiliated, maybe suffering. I have never organized this thoughts but they have always been there, even in my desmænok, I see myself physically suffering and being humiliated, it's sort of an addiction... I think. 

Today I was watching a Hollywood action flick, Ransom, if I recall correctly, and they had this kid being kidnapped, he was beautiful, and they were mean to him, but I enjoyed seeing him  pushed and dragged, and specially loved when he peed himself. 

These sound like the words of a psychopath, devoid of emotion, compassion... I can only say its the opposite, there are a lot of emotions here, just lack of talent to express them.

I feel about this so much, that's how I see myself in my desmænok.... In fact i have it all planned out; first being kidnapped and ending up in a guerrilla concentration camp, then, being victim of some bully and being completely trashed in school, later in this kind of fight club, where they got me into a cage with another kids and finally I end up (I don't know if dead) in a kidnapping like the one in this movie. 

I know it isn't the right thing, I can't take it off my mind; I love to see how they bully Obsidiana at school and how I humiliate him pouring water down his underwear. 

(3 days late)

Today I had an extended family reunion...

Today I had an extended family reunion... I hated it so much. It is not that I hate my family, it's just that they don't make me feel good about myself; it’s been like that for a long time.
My school life is dull, but today I reached Obsidiana and asked him to take me some photos with wet clothes, I just have to find one day where I'm home alone and plan each one of the 24 pictures I got to take.

How could it?

As far as I know my life is not very different from anyone else’s and to be honest a bit on the boring side in comparison. No girlfriend or boyfriend or anything of the sort, not a great deal of friends or a hobby or innate talent. No way with words or images. However, we can start by saying that my life could have been interesting and that it could have been much… more.
How could it?
Maybe it could if I had stopped telling lies, I had been able to reach a stable relationship with another human being, if I had quit being self-conscious and unable to fit anywhere. It’s funny I don’t blame lack of money, or my parents… I know all this ‘ifs’ were up to me, and me alone.
Not long ago I found out that what I do best is daydream, but these daydreams are not shared with anyone. I can’t even bring myself to make them stories to share here. So I plan to leave a record of my life as I keep daydreaming. What I write here, is going to be as honest I can make it be, no camouflages or lies… Because with all these dreams have led to lies, and subsequently led to not having anything real.  I can’t keep lying… hopefully people affected by these turn of events forgive me.

(81 days late)

Would you?

Could anyone love me?

Would you love me?

Would you befriend a suicidal individual?

Would you respect a fetishist?

Would you stand by a neurotic person?

Would you save a lost soul?

Would you embrace a loner?

Would you talk to an antisocial person?

Would you bear my depression?

Would you kiss a monster?

Would you understand the freak?

Would you trust a liar?

Would you comfort the scared?

Would you share with the selfish?

Would you whisper to the emptiness in me?

Would you die for me?

Would you kill for me?

Would you love me?

Top ten of my favourite anime boys

 Top ten of my favourite anime boys

10. Seiya

Our first contender is Seiya. Seiya is a Japanese orphan who is trained in Greece to be a Knight of the Zodiac in order to protect Athena at all costs. Though Seiya might look older, he is really only 13 and has received more bashing punches and injuries than any other boy in the countdown. Even when it is impossible for any ordinary human being to survive the battles he enfrents, Seiya will always walk again, manage to get off the floor, and do what’s necessary to protect Athena.

9. Zero

Young Zero Enna. Most people think he is exactly what his name says, a complete zero. He is not even that smart or charming. Much in the tradition of silly boys are the heroes. Zero makes it because of those big blue eyes and wearing really short shorts ^^ Zero has that unstoppable quality of going against everything to accomplish his dream, pilot Ingrid, Humanity’s last hope to survive.

8. Ken

Ken, the Digimon Emperor from Digimon 2, is a remarkable boy because you even love him when he is all rotten inside. Not only is he the new Digitrainera Nightmare, but he also is one of the most intelligent boys on the planet [Not everyone can hack the Digiworld!]. Bonus points for looking good in his evil outfit as well as he looks in his good boy clothes.

7 Shinji

Shinji from Evangelion is the boy with dreamy melancholic eyes that walks us through maturity in the postapocalyptic world of Evangelion. He gets points for standing all the things he has to endure, being in the military, bullies, an unloving father, the mistreatment of his Eva partners, even that super tight Eva suit… and if that’s not enough, he also goes to school!!

6 Guriclef

Guriclef comes in number six because he is the example of what every boy dreams (or at least I do). He is over 745 years old and he still looks 14!!! Not only is he a powerful wizard in the fantastic world of Magic Knight Rayearth, he is also very wise and has purple hair!!! His clothes are great! and is the one responsible for cute Mikoma ^^

5 Ash

More in personality than in looks, Ashketchum stole my heart since the Pokémon fever started. This naive, silly boy is probably the worst Pokémon trainer ever, but his sweet personality and inevitable urge to be the hero make him number five in my list.

4 Chris

Aww, though maybe too young, Chris from Sonic X just breathes cuteness in every way you see him. He is sweet and he gets extra points for actually being able to love a blue mutant hedgehog. He is a bit of an aloner, and

3 Shugo

Shugo, not to be confused with PS2 character Kite, is one hell of a cute boy. Not very smart and sloppy, he gets points for not giving up on his twin sister, which he loves… maybe much more than we all love our sisters.

2 Matt

Matt, finally an anime boy with personality, Matt is the tough guy in Digimon one. He takes care of his younger bro, and even kicks Tai when he deserves it. This conflictive character is also a softy… and gets major points for growing up to be a super hot rock star!!!

1. Syaoran

If there is a boy more perfect than Syaoran Li, I don’t want to know. This cutie is part of of utopic tv series Sakura Card Captor. Here in the world where there is no evil, Syaoran stands out being, not only Sakura’s pain in the ass and future real love, but also for being in love with other boys ^^ Syaoran with his dark attitude and repressed feelings makes himself more desirable than any other anime boy ever!!

Other Nominees that didn’t make it into my list included: Kotaro from Pita Ten, Eriol from Sakura Card Captors, Tai from Digimon 1, TK from Digimon 2, Alphonse Elric from Fullmetal Alchemist, and Ritchie from Pokémon, among many others ^^

“Let’s pretend, that I moved on… then I’ll tell myself that life goes on”

“Let’s pretend, that I moved on… then I’ll tell myself that life goes on”

Now that I am about to do something actually exiting, I immediately shut down. I fill myself with illusions, hope and daydreams, but end up not doing anything.
I realize that something is missing…
Every night when I get to my room I try to forget about the outside world, everything seems to be calm, and I forget, and disappear. But tonight I decided to not close my eyes and see myself; and after taking that close look the only thing I found was a disastrous mess.
Today is December the 11th of the year 2007 and I realize that my life is messed up enough to make an attempt to change it.
I know I just have like a year and a half of life left and since the first of January I’ll start keeping a diary; for now that seems like the best I can do.