You are Cruel…

“You are Cruel… you and your black watery eyes… yet a hidden smile behind… You know you enjoy seeing me suffering for you… You know you receive delight in me stretching my hand into the abyss to hold you up… pleasure in my anguish, my pain.”

Life is cruel….

I don’t know how else to say it, so I’ll just say it… my sis told me she is going to kill herself… that’s right, she told me, she came to me while I was on the pc and told me… half hour later we were all watching TV re-runs…

I was… a jerk at first… then; I came to my sense… and became someone who I am really not sure it was me… I gave the lecture… yes that lecture everyone has been giving me since my last post. I was convincing her not to do it… I let her down completely; I was big bro to the rescue… “We love you” “there are dreams” “you can’t do this to us”

Then… I recommended a book… a book that really has helped me, but I won’t say which because its corny and I don’t want to feel that way… and finally, I just asked not to do it at home… because it would be too much of a trauma… god… I’m handling all wrong.

Worst she asked me not to tell anyone… and I’ve kept my word.

I feel, like, she has just changed the all my conceptions on who I am and what am I supposed to do… I haven’t done anything yet! I’m so weak… I can’t, I just can’t figure out

(19 days late)

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Hardlife

 "LIFE

The only thing more inevitable than death is life, says a popular saying; nothing is more inevitable than life; it is impossible not to live; It is the only thing that exists. It is so impossible to stop living, that it overwhelms, there is no respite or pause. Life continually tells you; I am everything there is, everything that exists, there is nothing outside of me, everything exists for me, if I don't exist nothing exists. "

Don Duravida 

God I must be boring…

God I must be boring…

My mom, has been on the phone for hours yapping about this kid… teen, the poor guy is studying overseas… what trauma… and his mom has apparently messed him up by telling him how he can’t be depressed… and he is indirectly screaming for help… apparently he was a jock at school… but now he is well… just a Latino… man the world sucks…

I mean Common!!! I’m your son here! and I’m not mentally healthy either… god… 

I have been nauseous all day… I saw The Lord of the Flies… I thought… boys + shirtless + beach… But it so wasn’t like that… mankind, human beings in general are disgusting beings. Boys are something that just shouldn’t be… Piggy…. I felt so bad for him… and Simon… if I had to choose to be one of them I would take him; I would like to be him…

I feel like crying so badly tonight… I have to read this book.

I must accept I’m not perfect…. I never will be….

I must accept I’m alone… I will forever be…

I must accept… That this life is just not worth it…

I need to think this carefully again… find some poison, and do it… why poison? Because’ I’m a coward… yes… and start writing that note… I think what been keeping me from doing it for almost 10 years is that… I never had a note… I had the knife, the poison, the timing... but not the note…

“I'm a writer. If I was going to kill myself, I would've written one hell of a suicide note.”

Chloe Sullivan

(15 days late)

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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. 

Much like in school…

Much like in school… On my free time in collage I wonder down the hallways… I’m telling you this is sad… and it’s not getting better… I think everyone by my age has friend… I’m still a virgin… not only sexually, but emotionally, and even socially… I haven’t lived at all… I’m a virgin in life… and that it’s just a waste...…

I’m not drowning anymore… I think I hit bottom long time ago… and I’m just a dead corpse floating… waiting, till someone decides to sink it…

Yes, I’m not a savior, I’m a victim, and I need to be saved… it’s my life… yes... I’m a fucking needed person… and I can’t help myself, I’m impaired… not physically but in will… I just don’t have any will left… to do anything… I’m just stranded…. Left behind…

Thinking about it

Thinking about it, I am poor… 

Because I need so many things;

I need to pretend I’m going to fall in love and kiss someone. I need to imagine a pretend I’m going to write this novel; I need to imagine I’m going to be rich and successful.

I need to act as if I’m cute, no matter how much Photoshop I have to use to achieve it. I need to keep on drawing and creating as if I believed I’m talented at it. 

I need to stop complaining. I need to clean up. I need to do all the things I have yet to do. I need to do Stuff; I need to feel stuff… I need to believe I’m cool, even though I’m not. ‘ I need to ignore my countries social situation and feel safe in the street, I need to download cool music, even if it’s illegal, I need to watch more movies even if I feel I’m going to puke when doing it, I need to read more books. I need to change my view towards my career not as a burden but as a little annoying thing I just happen to have to do… like taking out the trash.

I know I’m getting dumber as I grow older… I guess it is true adults are just plain stupider.

I know I’m too old to keep up a journal like this, I’m not a teen anymore and all this personal issues should have been resolved by now, I should be working now and debating politics or something.

I need to be cool grown up; I was never a cool kid, nor a cool adolescent, so I owe it to myself to be a cool adult at least.

I guess all I’ve been saying here is… maybe this diary needs to disappear for now. Maybe it’s time to end it, maybe it’s time to let it go… maybe I need to stop doing things 15 year olds do…

Maybe I should stop wearing t shirts and jeans… cut my hair short, stop wasting my money in comics and action figures, and also stop wasting my time on superheroes cartoons. I should stop buying CDs, and lusting of teen Emo bands.

… I remember this day in school, where our Spanish teacher (who really hated me btw) asked us to imagine ourselves in the year 2000. I was so sure I was not going to be around when that happened. 

I can’t honestly see myself next year…

I need to change… I just don’t know how… is giving up on everything the only way? Can’t I be a superheroes geek and not be incredibly pathetic. Can I be lonely person and not be pathetic… can I be broke and not be pathetic…

Honestly all I need is money… people with money can be whatever they want, but I don’t have money, I’m poor bastard… yes lets finally accept it I’m poor compared to how rich I need to be to be myself. 

The fact I think this way proves how poor I am.

It’s all a problem of money? Yes

It’s all a problem of what can we afford and what we can’t… I can’t afford pretending I’m a teen, because if I’m not loaded it feels incredibly shameful and humiliating. I can’t afford being a superheroes geek and live in a rat hole, because it sounds completely absurd. I can’t afford being ameinian because I need a lot of money to look remotely decent.

So yes the thing is I can’t afford being who I want to be. I can’t afford being who I am right now...

Wow, I read this and I can’t believe this is what I’m saying… 

Worst of all this... Is that I could solve most of these problems by killing myself, but I haven’t done it and probably never will…

I’m weak, yes that’s my main flaw, I’m incredibly weak… not only physically, but emotionally and in my personality in general… I’m weak, terribly weak.

I should have thought about it before being born in misery

April 3^rd, 2006

(3 days late)

…What to do?

…What to do?

Big question for me now, what to do?

I read this poem, awesome, I should read more poetry, or write more poetry… I should actually just read more. I haven’t touched page of a book in months. I just feel like I hate to read…

Is this part of my frustration?

Yes I’m frustrated… and according to my psychology teacher, there is rarely going back for a frustrated person. A real frustration kills dreams, hopes, and the will to pursue ‘them if there’s any left.

For 5 year now I promised I would take some pictures of myself completely soaked... I haven’t done that. My EMO soaked vid really turns people on, and I’m so proud of it; to know you can turn people on is really something special... I know I wouldn’t turn myself on, I’m not that cute for my taste, but it’s really flattering some people do. There have been lots of alleged fans popping around; the first person was a girl at the wedgie board. Then some people at the TH board, now just people stumbling into my pictures her and on deviant art; not to mention of course YouTube

(2 days late)

Who am I?

Who am I? 

I’m certainly not a productive student... my grades can be a prove of that

Today passed to quick... I didn’t do anything... anything at all...

And all I think is those scenes from Syriana... the ones that showed poor people... have you noticed them? What where this people doing?

Watch them and think about it. In any movie… what are poor people doing....

 Nothing... poor people do nothing...

Poor people do nothing...

Poor people do nothing...

I’m broke right now, but I’m not poor...

Being broke is a temporary condition, being poor is a state of being.

I’m skipping classes a lot to watch the JLU

(2 days late)

Words Are Just Words

When I write sometimes I like to think I am playing a piano, that my fingers are producing art.... I want to close my eyes and let me go... just let me go...

I wish writing was like playing a piano, harmonic....but it’s not, it’s a process that is completely inharmonic and inorganic, your hands don’t move graciously, the sound of the keys is like little hammers that blend in with the noise all around you... no one feel the need to shut up when you are writing... it’s not an art worth to see performed. .

There was this brief part of my existence where I did things that seemed being what I needed... but now it’s all gone back into being silly, unnecessary and sad... 

I have abandoned the book. 

I wish my tongue was sexier...

I wish my tongue was sexier...

I can’t seem to be able to eat today... I skipped collage and didn’t tell my mom... it just seemed foolish to show up not having the homework to turn in... It was just to define words, only to copy from a dictionary a few definitions, but I couldn’t do it... 

Where is my notebook?! Where the hell is it? It’s the second time I’ve lost it... all my class notes, random thoughts and some cool side margin drawings...

I don’t remember what happened to it. 

I’ve had two weird dreams.... 

Ryan Seacrest was hosting American idol in my kitchen... he is preparing some eggs... and hosting the show, it’s a mess... eventually I pitch in to help him... so he asks some girl who I don’t know who is... and asks her who is leaving the show... there are two contestants both blond, one beautiful, the other one not so much.

She picks the ugly one... and when Ryan asks why, she says: he looks like a looser...

In the other dream... there was stuff happening before... can’t remember what, but suddenly I’m in a very expensive clothing store and I go to the underwear section, and I ask someone there to help me find really oversized boxers...

Then something happens I get into a fight with someone...

In the end, this girl who apparently I was with, very beautiful, well, she’s mad because I fought and she comes to me... and says...

You are subordinate... a lackey, a loser...

And I’m so ashamed... I start agreeing... I say, I’m an employee, mediocre, wannabe...

I can’t seem to be able to eat... I feel nauseous around food though I’m hungry...

(3 days late)

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We are born crying, we live complaining, and we die disappointed.

We are born crying, we live complaining, and we die disappointed.

I had to stand 6 hours of torture yesterday during my sis birthday family reunion... I hate seeing my family... it’s a great family...but I feel so gritty, so gross around them... I feel judged, pitied... life if I had disappointed everyone. They hate me... I hate them...

(6 days late)

I’ve always been a picky eater…

I’ve always been a picky eater…

Just thought that needed to be said.

Is it me or am I getting stupider –does this word really exist? - Everyday.

I should have studied Graphic design; maybe I would be great at that instead of being mediocre at this. I should have made true friends in school, I have taken more pictures, and I should have not listened to my parents… Common I was in four different schools, how come I never met anyone? How come I am alone?

Now I miss Aiacos so much… but I haven’t talked to him in over a year. How do I tell him he is still the best friend I got? I’m the worst msn user, as any of me contacts I have the most short trivial conversations.

I have to be better, I have to call Tatiana, and I miss her so much. I’m a bitter person…

Just thought that needed to be said.

(3 days late)

Now I See What I Am... A Thief, a Whore and a Liar

Now I See What I Am... A Thief, a Whore and a Liar

Its only matter of thinking about my past to make me want to jump off my window… it’s so… disappointing, I don’t have a past, I made sure I never one. I have nothing that attaches me to the things I’ve lived; to the people I’ve met, to the places I’ve been…

And when there are any memories they are just so horrible to look at. I can’t look at old photographs of myself, I can’t watch myself on video, I can’t even read my own journal entries.

I’m ephemeral… I was here to pass… to be forgotten, I like to forget thing, I like to not think of things to come…

There is a thought that’s been hunting me for a while…

“I am ready to course 4rth grade” yes the truth is that I am ready for that, I f I could be the child I dream of being, the person I dream of being, I am mentally and emotionally ready to course the fourth grade.

My webcam is dead… yeah totally dead…

I don’t want to be saved now, I don’t want to be rescued, and I don’t need life to be breathed into me…

I don’t want love, I don’t want hate… I just stopped wanting…

I’m a thief, a thief of time that I waste every day, of opportunities I don’t cherish, of a life that has gone down the drain.

I’m a where, I sick, and very sick person that sells himself to the highest bidder for momentary pleasure... I’m lazy, mediocre and cheap...

I’m a liar... a sad liar, one pretending to be someone who is not, someone who is not honest to his true self, or to his beliefs.

(2 days late)