domingo, 27 de octubre de 2013

Para mi Nelson

¿Por qué cuando te miro veo niños, veo dulzura y ternura?
¿Por qué veo flores, cielos, tierras y pueblos?
¿Por qué cuando te miro veo todo lo que me hizo feliz antes de ti?
Vuelven las mañanas felices que tuve antes de ti,
Vuelve la ternura que tuve antes de ti,
Vuelve toda la felicidad que sentí antes de ti,
El corazón sonríe y llora, te miro y no existe rechazo.

sábado, 26 de octubre de 2013

Lost guideline

Where is the line between what I want and what is fine?
How can I go beyond what makes someone happy and makes others die?
The flower of lotus grows from the mud
The flowers I give are covered in mud
The heart has its ways, but they all go astray
One must follow the lead of another way
The where is painfully searching for the how…

jueves, 17 de octubre de 2013

miércoles, 16 de octubre de 2013

Day 3 without Facebook. The people.

Well now I'd rather be on Facebook than write on this blog (this place is so deserted that I'm surprised it's not haunted by any ghosts), but I gotta keep with my decision. So here I am, crossing the limit of "I can't stay more than 3 days without..." 
I miss the people, most of all their photos. I wonder what they are doing or if some of my friends posted something. I have the feeling I'm missing on something, but then I realize it can't be much in just 3 days. Some of my friends are so far away that I'm not able to call them, or maybe I just haven't called them or emailed them in such a long time that it'd seem akward now. And even if I call or e-mail them, it's not the same like seeing them post some photos once in a while. If I think about it, I wish people would post photos more often. And commenting is fun. I miss the social aspect of Facebook. I'm a very shy person, but at the same time a people-person, I like people a lot. This makes me perfect for Facebook. And now I feel like a hermit :)) 
Is my addiction starting to show its presence?

martes, 15 de octubre de 2013

Day 2 without Facebook. I can feel a bit of a difference.

I have to admit that I'm starting to miss it. Sometimes during the day I think of posting things on Facebook and then I realize "Oh..." And when on the Internet I still have the instinct of opening Fb to check what's going on. Or I sometimes feel like playing games. But after that I realize how boring it all became. I'm like in a funny photo I saw on Fb (oh the irony) which said "I like this song a lot, I have to listen to it until I hate it", well when I like something I exaggerate until I hate it and I did the same thing with Fb. 
And now at the end of the day, I realize I'm doing so many other things than Facebook. 
It feels so good that I still don't feel the need to come back. And now I wonder...was I really addicted or did I only have the idea of being addicted? hmmm, we'll see in the next days, do not miss the next episodes of boring Facebook rehab accounts (I sometimes wanna rate my own post as boring)

lunes, 14 de octubre de 2013

Day 1 without Facebook. Nothing special

I've decided to take a break from Facebook, I was really addicted and even though it bored me to death I kept scrolling and clicking and sharing and wasting hours of my life and just couldn't stop myself.
So yesterday I deactivated my account. I decided to keep away a certain number of days and write daily about how it feels, even though nobody reads my blog :)). 
Well it feels great til now, I don't miss it so I wonder when I'm gonna start feeling I need it. Everything is just so normal that I have no idea why I'm writing about this, but well...:P


sábado, 12 de octubre de 2013

Anything. Random thoughts of a day

I don't like writing because it leaves me feeling trivial, I only feel some kind of satisfaction when I write "poetry-like" texts  and my thoughts are too short to be able to fill the virtual spaces of a blog, but I was tempted, so I'm gonna let myself slide in this new attraction and feed my internet addiction with a new experience...writing on a blog. I'm gonna start in English because my own language is too intimate and I'm too shy yet.

The good thing is I can write ANYTHING, and that feels good...the feeling of freedom is the greatest.

So I dedicate this blog to Anything, lovely word.

I consider myself and my thinking as half-ripe, so here are three half-ripe thoughts that had a walk through my mind today:

1. I feel that just as the history of humanity had different ages or eras, my own life is made up of different "epochs" with completely different states of mind and atmospheres. I can distinguish them very well looking back and I'm so amazed how different they are, it is as if I lived 10 different lives. My current "epoch" feels so strange, I wonder where it'll lead to. I think I've read this idea before, not sure, but today I really felt it. I wonder if everyone feels the same...do you?

2. It's strange how I can feel a fragile stream of joy in the midst of a disappointment, the kind of disappointment that crushes vanity or futile desire. It's the pain of being disappointed and at the same time a feeling of joy for being set free. Do you feel the same sometimes?
Here is what I wrote one day when I had a great dissappointment:

Battle
The battle was lost before it began,
The smell of defeat was really sweet,
The stab you gave me was a victory,
The pain that I felt was enlightening,
The blood that was shed fed the life within,
The kick in the ass was a fluttering wing,
I fall down, bite the ground and fly

3. Pandora's box. Should I open it this time again or not? That boredom and curiosity that won't let you stay still, that keeps saying "do it, just do something, do. do. do" but you know it will lead to some sort of mini-disaster. But still, you so want it, but shouldn't, but maybe...but that thought "Don't open the box again". I heard that life equals movement, but I also heard that truth can only be found in silence. Would you open the box or not?

Feel free to comment, I'm curious if my theory is right, that Anything a person feels or thinks, somebody else, in another space or time, felt, or thought exactly the same.