The truth and only the truth

The truth and only the truth. 

This was the reason I started this diary in the first place, I needed to tell the truth... why? Because I lie a lot. 

I think being a good liar is an essential quality of being a good actor; Enjoying your lies I fundamental for a good writer. 

I need to write, I haven’t written anything in months but the urge is getting bigger and bigger, and the story is now to big to keep it in my head. 

And I’m a lousy writer, just read my entries they lack style, coherence and mainly good grammar. 

I feel I’ve been giving up lately, giving up on so many things... specially my dreams. I stopped straightening and dying my hair, haven’t got dressed in days. I need to record this video and yet I seem to not find the appropriate time. Time... I need time, I keep convincing myself  to give up on these things because there is no time. No time to write, to read, to lie down, to draw... 

The truth is I don’t know if any of this is true. Or if my lies are taking a toll on me, and I’ve started fall for ‘me. Believing my own lies; If an actor gets so much in character he starts to actually believe he is his character... does that make him a terrific actor or the worse of all? 

Didn’t this happen to the guy that played Nosferatu in that old silent movie? (I’m too lazy to Google it now) or isn’t this the same that happened to Ed Wood, who blindly believed his work was truly amazing. 

Back to the pressing matter, I no longer know if this diary true, or if I’ve fallen into the delusion it is... I keep writing I’m sad, but am I? I keep trying to expand my writing beyond myself to prove I’m not an egocentric maniac... what do you think? 

Drunks have taken over the block, you can hear them arguing and laughing from all over here in the fifth floor. People are dying in floods all over the place, corruption invades everything in this country, and the truth is I am here at night, writing, expecting an epiphany from putting this words here... because I promised here I would tell the truth and only the truth.

(11 Days Late)

To a friend

To a friend

I will come one evening, rounding the bend that takes me;

I will come to find you alone with your old dream.

Dusk will drag its light clouds heavily

Passing by your lonely window

You will welcome me in your silent room and there will be

books all around, abandoned in deep silence.

We will sit next to each other. We will talk about the things that go away

of those who have died before we lose them,

from the bitterness of meaningless life, of boredom,

of not expecting anything to be done,

of disappearing ... And little by little in the dark stillness,

our words and our last thoughts will also be quenched.

But the night will come and stop at the window sill;

will mix breezes and aromas with starlight,

with the great call that Nature exhales,

and with your chest which silence will not protect.

April 30, 1930

Maria Polydouri, quit life with a lethal injection of morphine. 

I promised myself I wouldn't be … well… me…

I promised myself, I wouldn't be … well… me… That I'll stay alive till I passed the original Pokémon green for GB and capture Mew. I wouldn't commit suicide till Year seven of the harry potter seven arrived, I promised myself that I would get one cool haircut in my life, that I would not care about what people think or say. 

I'm going to try to keep my word on that last one. 

I got this on my mail today:

E-mail: holly_nin@yahoo.com   <Omar Eduardo Arango "Quiñones">

Comment:   Dear fag...oops I mean Xag:   First of all, allow me ask u something: have u no life, no friends (I mean normal friends) no nothing??...Oh wait a sec, I guess u do have something: NO SHAME WHATSOEVER for being who u are and doing the most pathetic work there has yet to be done. As a classmate on "taller de television" I've got to say I was kind of disturbed by your presence and your horrifying lack of fashion. And the hair, something to kill yourself for!!   One more thing before living this hideous site, PLEASE DON'T EVER POST VIDEOS WHERE U TELL THE WORLD YOU'RE STUDYING AT UNIVERSITY SERGIO ARBOLEDA, YOU ARE EMBARRASSING FOR US BIG TIME!!!   On behave of everybody who's NOT A FREAK LIKE U, thanks for the chance of posting this comment and please do try to not leave your house from time to time so people don't get traumatized by your looks.   Take good care of yourself.   

Sincerely   

Not a fan of your shity work AT ALL.

No more videos. 

(12 days late)

Just Shoot Me

Just Shoot Me

I live in country where pretty much a lot of people die every day in a violent conflict that has lasted for years... so why am I not one of those? 

Why hasn't just someone come along and just shoot me, and set me free form this existence. And it’s not that I'm in pain and I can’t take life anymore... I'm just so bored; bored out of my existence that getting shot seems like just something that could be.... well... just something...

I'm going through of one of those moment when I see myself objectively, and I'm nauseous... this guy described my videos as ...

An interesting way of transmitting sensations though simple things...

This is the sweetest way to put it...

(3 days late)

On my knees

On my knees, holding my head crying, crying because there is so much to cry for.

That’s what I should be doing, however I don't seem to be doing a lot of things I should these days. Not even crying. And god I need to cry.

I'm thinking what I should say in this entry that would be somehow more mature that what I've been writing since I was 15. But I'm clueless.

I've never doubted I am immature, I think my videos are a testimony of that... the first time I thought about writing my diary was back in Santa Marta, the most awful trip I've ever had... I haven't been near beach or a pool ever since. Then I truly thought it would be such relief, that in some way it would be a way out...years later I still do.

 I can’t stop writing this... I've tried, but I can’t stop, the damn journal keeps going on and on... and I keep filling it with the same feelings, trains of thought, etc...

I need a change... yes a change... one that goes beyond upgrading to vista or changing my sites look, or organizing my shelves.. I need a real change...

I need to stop pushing people away,

(Wow there are a lot of ellipsis in this journal)

(4 days late)

There is constant construction work going on. But nothing ever happens. It's leading nowhere.

I'm breeding like a pig
Skinning myself over and over again
I produce ceaselessly
Growing hair
Gaining weight
Sweating
Breathing in
And out
Pissing
Crapping
Jerking off sperm
My cells are dieing every second
And they keep reproducing themselves
I can hear them grow
There is constant construction work going on.
But nothing ever happens.
It's leading nowhere
Nowhere

by John Smith.  shot himself in the head with a shot gun on Jan.4th 2000. http://suez-cide.tripod.com/index.html

Ameinian

Ameinian

For a long time, I've always found some kind of linguistic injustice towards men, specially referring to homosexual men and women. 

You see, the word commonly used to denominate an homosexual woman is the word lesbian which I personally think it’s a beautiful word, it just sounds beautiful but also has this cool etymological background, the word comes for the inhabitants of the island of lesbos in Greece where the most famous homoerotic poetess lived thousands of years ago (now this sounds great for us occidentals... not sure how the people over at lesbos in Greece right now feel about it). Meanwhile men are stuck with the word Gay which, not only lacks the thousands of years in history, it is also used on girls.

The word lesbian is never used to refer to guy relationships is it? So I've been searching for a while looking for a word that would match the equivalent of "lesbian" unfortunately poets who wrote male to male relationships in ancient Greece are guys like Theognis and Anacreon who self-identify are pederasts... so taking their names would not really help the ameinian community, since pedophilia is even further away from being socially accepted.

However other more famous poet touched the subject, Homer in the Iliad mentions the myth of Ganymede (god I love that name) The young boy who was kidnapped by Zeus to make him his servant (because he was so darn beautiful) yet again... old Zeus and a young boy do give some remembrance of pederasty again. So I kept searching... along the way, I remembered narcissus that was in love with himself... now of course we couldn't call ameinian men narcissistic of course. Yet however reviewing the myth, there is this little known part.

Many were those who fell in love with the beautiful lad. Even when he was a baby his nurses swooned over him, and by his sixteenth year every man and woman in town pined for him. None of them however were good enough for him, he felt. One day his neighbor, Ameinias, could stand it no longer, and told Narcissus how much he longed for him, and asked him to be his lover. Narcissus said nothing, but merely sent a servant to deliver a dagger in response. Ameinias understood the meaning of the ' gift,' and with that dagger took his own life, calling down the wrath of the gods upon Narcissus, and cursing him to ever meet in love the same disdain that he had for others.

While most of the myth centers on the conflict of narcissus an echo, Ameinias seemed to have been somehow obscured. Ameinias' tragedy is... well... really ameinian... maybe even corny. BUT it really says much more than the word generic word: Gay... Ameinias could be the perfect word. Except for the similarity with the word Anemia which is a disease, however its use on people would not be Amienic but Ameinian - if there wasn't an already established structure for the English language that probably regulates this stuff -.

So yes... I spent my day today trying to make up a word. Imagine what I can do tomorrow…

(8 days late)

There is so much inside me bursting to get out

There is so much inside me bursting to get out. 

I've been not feeling well, I've been sick, I've been lying and lied to... don't know what to do, everything seems like this huge endless lie... but it isn't... or is it?... I've always considered myself a great liar... who in turn would make me also a great actor or, better yet, a great story teller.

Perhaps that’s why my life feels like a lie, I have this image of myself that is far from being any real sense... am I novelist' am I a writer?... it’s been months since I wrote anything for my novel.... there hasn't been a day I don't think about it, I think about it constantly, endlessly every detail, the whole plot, sometimes I think so much about it overwhelms me.

There is this contest... I could try to do something... however I know I won’t make it. I wake up with the thought that I have to straighten my hair if I want to feel good today... how empty is that? 

Then I spend the next 30 minutes looking at the guy in the mirror, who depending on the day, at random, is the most disgusting being on the planet or maybe not, so I stop, my hair half done, I look myself in the eyes and then I see it... the future, my future, I know how things will go, I know how everything will pan out, not in detail, but the overall plot.

I just keep thinking... Someone living my life should be happy…

(5 days late)

I feel like if someone had tripped me, and I tumbled over...

I feel like if someone had tripped me, and I tumbled over...

I just don’t know who?

Probably myself...

I don’t really know what to do next... I don’t even know what I am going to do the next hour... go to class or go home... I don’t know if I should remove illustrations, or videos... I hate them all so much... I don’t know if should publish my journal entries or not...

I don’t know, if I should keep on writing or give up already and try something else, I don’t know if should cut my hair or leave it as it is... I don’t know if I should keep on trying photography, or devote myself to manga.

I don’t know if should delete some of my contacts, I don’t know if I should date girls or boys... or stop dating at all... I don’t know if I should just lock myself at home alone... Should I get job, or try and make it on my own... should in stick to my dreams, or accept my life as it is and move ahead with it... I don’t know I f a should still believe in love... or in god... or in magic... or in anything at all

(29 days late)

The mystery of human existence

"For the mystery of human existence lies not in just staying alive, but in finding something to live for. Without a concrete idea of what he is living for, man would refuse to live, would rather exterminate himself than remain on earth, even though everywhere around him was bread."
--from "The Grand Inquisitor" in Fyodor Dostoyevsky's 

The Brothers Karamazov

(1879–1880)

I’m scared

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

Do I believe in sex between friends? Yeah. 

Do I believe in marriage? No.

Do I believe in boy/girlfriends? yeah

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

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

Do I want unconditional love? Yes… 

Do I want a lifelong partner? Yeah! 

Do I believe in sex with no compromises? No 

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

Is that wrong? 

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

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

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

(1 day late)

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

(4 days late)