Thank You, Truth Seeker (late entry)

I happened to arrive to Querétaro just yesterday night. Traveling on the road was obviously boring but thankfully it did not become stressing whatsoever. I feared a kind of angst or anxiety crisis, and it didn’t happen either, thank God. Having to deal with the situation of spending hours within the same cubicle with my mother and her friend turned out to be annoying at times, but I “survived” listening to music, thinking, reading a little from a couple of mags every now and then, staring at those spectacular views when they happened to appear and so on.
I remember I continuously thought it would be a beautiful experience to have driven along those roads by myself on my (imaginary, for now) BMW 328i. ---I just noticed a better version called the 355i. The one I mentioned before is apparently called the F30 too, something like that. Yeah, a 355i would be better.--- You know, feeling the handling with my hypothetically-awesome driving skills, listening to my music without having to worry about anyone else (volume, type, etc.), relaxed in the air conditioning, contemplating the landscapes whenever I got the chance, feeling free and independent! I missed the opportunity of getting my driver’s permission back on Mérida, therefore there was no driving experience for me with my mother’s Jeep.
The first hotel we slept in was disappointing, thinking about the interlude of hotels we pay for every chance we get, and because of my mother’s tastes and possibilities without my father. It was mediocre for me. It’s not something to remember about, but the second one. It was called “Castelo”, placed in Boca del Río, Veracruz.
I don’t really know why, but the city had this strange, dreamish feeling for me. I remember noticing a building that looked like the White House but with a golden angel statue on top of the dome, and it seemed beautiful. The skies were gray. There were details in the environment that made the whole place look as if it was a mental creation, as in not a common place. I remember spotting some persons being pulled by parachutes to surf, and I imagined for a moment how it would be like to fly through the buildings with one, without harms or danger. Along the road I encountered possible messages, too. I love receiving messages, but the uncertainty of it being, maybe, just a mind product is something worth fighting. There was this point where my mother had to drive on roads of mountains, with plenty of curves and a fog that blinded what was after 10 meters or so. It seemed as if we were traveling through some environmental glitch, as if the world didn’t load enough.
Now, getting back to the second hotel topic: There was some kind of fancy event so almost everyone was wearing that kind of garments. I felt out of place, I feel like that almost wherever I go on the world outside. I told my mother to at least visit the hotel to know how much it cost, and how it looked like inside. It was a good idea to stay there, regardless of the places I could have visited if I wasn’t feeling like that. When I arrived at the room ---I wish I had a personal one--- Paty turned on the TV to the Telehit channel, and I felt welcomed with some cool musical videos. I automatically regretted that we didn’t stay at the highest floor. Room 303.
At night I attempted to go outside and walk around to see if I found an good place to write, like a café. I arrived at this place where tea beverages were served, and the decoration… something astonishing, it was a graffiti mural made by someone called “Seiker Etena” or something. Pretty cool art, I wish I had a camera handy at that moment; well, it happened to be one of those moments when memories are the only witness of what happens to oneself, as if it was something that shouldn’t have happened to you. I’m negative. I need to change my ways before I grow up completely, or else I’ll live miserably. Anyways, I visited for some seconds a sushi place called “DOMU”. With my mediocre clothing and my lazy appearance, a tall man opened the door for me (he felt like he fucking owned the place). When remembering I see myself stupid. I asked if they had WiFi, but first, when they closed doors. He sent me with the receptionist I had in front of my nose in such a cold, yet mannered way. If they actually cared for any client this would not have happened, but I had to wait until that high-class slutty woman finished talking whatever she decided to, with the receptionist. I asked again if they had WiFi. Oh, did I mention both of them made me question twice, as if the surprise of my query was that much of a shock. She told me they did, and that they closed somewhere after midnight depending on the clientele. I ended up feeling small and valueless, of course, because I’m not a rich businessman or some sort. All of this happened after I realized I didn’t bring my wallet and the camera.
Now I’ve arrived at this seemingly underdeveloped city (everything seems distant, one needs to travel a lot by car, lots of highway) I don’t know what to expect of my life’s outcome. I’ve been deceived or disappointed enough times to stop trusting the faith I put on destiny, only God has the power to change my life and many times I think he doesn’t care about what I desire and long for, what I dream of. I know that can’t be true, theoretically. My mother and I have had to stay at my uncle’s house, it’s big. The ambient has been cold, and the weather is, too, around here. They gave me a room for myself, which is nice, although it seems to have been planned for the housekeeper. I feel like Harry in his little place under the stairs, and with his apathetic family. My mother has been acting pretty cheerful with this new life episode, and the fact I differ so much in attitude with her makes me look bad. Being yourself is hard, and more when you don’t like the person you were fabricated into. Getting along with Benjamín, my cousin here, is practically impossible after what happened in Facebook about his boyfriend and his girl cousin, both asshole and bitch respectively to me, and I have my own valid reasons to think about them in such a way. “Ben” forgets our bloodly bond and prefers to believe in their biased stories about me. Then there’s Berenice, my other cousin (female). She is very pretty, but that characteristic may blind you from her insides. I asked her to take me to a nearly-known Starbucks. She and her boyfriend dared to ask me why, annoying. Fernando laughed at the dent my uncle did on the back the Jeep, really? Or was it my oversensitive mind? I think the first days around here will keep me feeling so awkward, out-of-place, pathetic. I don’t want it to be like the times of my first days in Yucatán, but the situation is similar with the fact of starting over again with the friends, school, establishing situation and such. I feel really startled at what my life turned out to be right now.
I have this great feeling of becoming independent, free, of taking the wheel in my life and go where I desire to go and become what I yearn to become. That means something like separating from the people in my family I recognize as inconsequential and those who stop me from becoming my Higher Self, those who don’t help, those who don’t care. Leaving my mother should be really hard, and as much as I happen to dislike her, she always will keep a special place in my heart.
Not enough time to write and check what I just created, despite my need to make really good works. Next time will do.

"Usted tiene que haber sido resuelto."

Pienso que para hablar con la lengua que anhelo, simplemente debo dejar que mi corazón le dicte a mi mente el respectivo discurso. No puedo evitar ser yo, de hecho, debo de ser mi propio personaje porque es el único que sé actuar bien en esta gran obra de teatro sin sentido llamada “Vida”, en español… Mientras estoy sentado en la silla que corresponde a la mesa deste café tan proclamado por mí, hago un posiblemente vano intento por describir ciertos temas desde mi propio punto de vista, con lo que mis ojos ven, con lo que mi corazón siente, con lo que mi mente percibe y lo que mi alma añora en este mundo que cree estar lo suficiente maduro como para dejar de guiarse por Las Estrellas que, para unos, son un montón de pensamientos infantiles y retrógradas salidos de un cerebro inferior al suyo, en cuanto a calidad. Perteneciente a una persona digna de ser despreciada por sus acciones que, por medio de falacias y de otras herramientas astutas distintas, son relacionadas a las de sus antepasados, esa culpa que permanece. Llega Alguien a decirme que éste no es más mi hogar y, mi reloj corroborándome la información, me obligo a salir al ecosistema del asfalto bajo ese cautivante astro de la Noche (¡es algo que no une!). Estoy solo, y la soledad parece ser una respuesta a mi primer cumpleaños y mi suspiro final. Es ese regalo del tipo al que estoy encargado (y con el cual fallo de Compañero), el que me brinda diariamente y puede ser que sin darse cuenta.
---Días después me dispongo a desarrollar el propósito deste escrito. ---
Ella… Cada día pienso en ti. Cada día me pregunto por qué no tengo la oportunidad de deleitarme en tu compañía, en tu cariño, tu afecto, tu Amor. No te conozco, ni tú me conoces, pero dentro de mí hay una especie de nostalgia que, tengo entendido, me da el derecho de extrañarte. ¿No te ha pasado por la cabeza a ti también si nos conocíamos desde antes de estar conscientes del reencuentro? Sería algo mágico y reafirmante para quienes somos en verdad, o al menos los que imaginamos ser entre suspiros que se condensan. ¿Tienes frío?, para mí sería un honor entregarte mi abrigo. ¿Te sientes incompleta, sola, o acaso no soportas la oscuridad en tu interior?, sería un placer memorable el que me permitas ser tu luz, tu Compañero. Puedes tener la seguridad y confianza en llamarme a las 3 antes del meridiano para contarme el sueño que tuviste, sea bueno, sea malo, y seré todo un audiófilo y al mismo tiempo el Dr. Weston si lo necesitas. Entiende que haría todo esto y más, porque el hecho de que hayas entrado en mi vida y yo a la tuya con esa magia épica característica, el que apenas comience a creerme ---y con trabajo--- lo que me está ocurriendo (había perdido las esperanzas de un mundo de ensueño) me deja en eterna deuda hacia ti, por ti. No necesito decirte que seas recíproca porque el que tuvo que serlo fui yo, no sé si estuve menos evolucionado pero eso ya es parte del pasado. Podría crear 7 poemas, cada uno distinto y en progresiva calidad, todos producidos con manos que padecieron calambres, y no me sentiría satisfecho como para describir tu belleza, la que despiertas en mí también, lo que percibo y sé que eres, esa luz que nadie ve o aprecia o busca o siquiera sabe que existe. Me entristece darme cuenta que palabras como estas ya han sido repetidas hasta el colmo a lo largo de la historia, pero intenta ver a través de ese velo y tal vez y logres discernir sentimientos escondidos dignos de un tesoro milenario. Quiero que sepas que eres un diamante muy raro porque no sólo logras causar una impresión casi traumáticamente buena a primera vista, sino que dentro de ti reina una Luz que caracteriza a Princesas  del Corazón, como tú. Vamos, ambos sabemos que este mundo no es para nosotros, ¡recuerda que nosotros somos mejor que todo esto que mis ojos ven con irritación! No, no eres como las demás, y por eso estoy muy orgulloso de ti. No me importa lo que me digan que debo buscar, o en lo que digan que debo creer, porque yo creo en ti y sé que merezco tan precioso regalo del Divino. Entre sueños pude sentir por vez primera el efecto de tu presencia, que es memorablemente bastante, es el rastro de lo Especial en ti. Te he descrito como puedo varias veces, siento que ya fue suficiente, he desmayado en ese aspecto, pero ver lo que falta por recorrer desde que tuve que sentarme a reposar hace demasiado tiempo me hace sentir digno de tu Llegada. Perdóname, pero ahorita no puedo describirte, no es apropiado, pero conservo a capa y espada tu definición en mi mente caótica, no es tan clara como quisiera.
No… no eres como las demás.

¿Sabes qué me pregunto mucho también? Dónde están ellos, mis amigos verdaderos. Me hacen mucha falta en tiempos así, en los que camino entre muchedumbre y tolero respirar en una sociedad enferma y empobrecida por un virus de la conciencia colectiva e influencias interesadas como la Media y los Políticos. Supongo que es el resultado del tiempo pretérito, pero he decidido que no fui hecho para este mundo, al menos así. Individuos como ustedes, tan especiales y chidos como resultan ser y lo son para mí, son meras alucinaciones para mi alrededor. Confío en que, cuando llegue el tiempo correcto, descubriré a alguien que sólo contemplado y que terminará por sorprenderme con su maravilla, y me recordará el importante valor perdido. ¿Y saben qué más? Esa realidad onírica a la que busco zambullirme es una de las pocas influencias que mantienen vivo a mi soñador interno, pero que al mismo tiempo me quita energías vitales, pero no importa, pero tal vez no sea eso. Es como si quisiera encontrar un portal o a La Llamada, algo así como el ropero hacia Narnia. Sería hora de probar quien suspiro ser y que aparenta ser un concepto alejado al que se refleja en el espejo. Ustedes ya me conocen, ya era así, pero no para mí, tengo entendido… es lo que el mundo me dijo. Tarde o temprano tienes que despertar.

WHERE IS HOME?

One more day of nothing happening.

Again, one of those nights of sleep deprivation, wether it's intentional or not. Went with my mother to Zavi Pizza and it was a pretty experience. Yesterday night was, supposedly, the night with the biggest moon. I love watching the Moon, it emerges in myself a good feeling of being special and, in words of Kairi, there are many worlds out there, but they all share the same sky. They should've stared and appreciated that same point in the sky as me. It should be something that unites us.
Anyways, somewhere in the night I decided to look for Nils Frahm's song "In The Sky And On The Ground", beautiful piano piece it is. Instead I ended up wathcing some interestingly strange videos about these background-ish noises people have been hearing around the world. I think I have heard something similar too at night, outside my house, but it wasn't anything trascendental. This video kind of summarizes it all up, what I watched on YouTube.
I felt sick inside again, yesterday. I could not walk well.

358/2 Days

The trailer to a videogame that truly left a mark in my heart and my mind. The story, along with Roxas, Xion and probably Axel, created and left in me many unique and special feelings and thoughts. It changed the course of my steps. It's the only game of the saga I've played so far, yet it became a special item in my way. A big thank you to Tetsuya Nomura and Yoko Shimomura for creating an epic work of digital art. Was it God who put the game in my way? Was it already written with purpose and all? Was the outcome reaction foreshadowed?
Xion: Inspirational image of my dream girl.
Roxas: A role model of a Hero, (the fact it’s not Sora kind of worries me)
Axel: Guardian-angel-ish kind of friend, seems like a counselor too.
I can only hope God treasures all those feelings and thougts the story showed in myself along the way. Those were the days I was starting to know and get used to the dark world of true depression. Nowadays anyone can say they're depressed, while listening to some SOAD and drinking out of a milk box all day long, and waking up the next day feeling OK and, after school, going with friends to the cinema and shit.
The only way I could recall what I felt about the game would be to replay it, which is something I have not given myself the opportunity of happening. I mean, come on now!, it's a used NDS and a used cartridge, of course it's impregnated with someone else's vibe, as everything used.

Dreamworld Imagine Fragment #1

She seems like one of those characters I'm trying to find in my reality, probably similar to Ella. Maybe I need to visit a new reality to find people like these. I'm focusing on the personal impression as a person she gives me here, not her actualy self. Pretty confusing, right? Or is it?

STARBUCKS (late entry)

While I encounter myself in between two girls on their own computers in Starbucks, I find a little moment in the day to actually feel creative, because I lack that feeling so much. What do I need to change my current life? That is one of the most intriguing questions I have to deal with these days. I wish these two, seemingly sweet girls, were there to relief the “kiss of death” every time it enters my mind. I’ve been thinking of taking the leap of faith but I’m too much of a coward to do so, nevertheless I’m really tired of this world. Before arriving to the coffee shop, while riding my rather old bike, a wild bus driver appeared, traveling to my direction. He must have been kind of stupid since he did not use directionals to warn me of his next turn. I thought he was going straight ahead and I was practically in the middle of that lonely road. He finally did his turn, along with a long and unfriendly stare at my eyes, as if he was telling me to fuck off. Really, what is wrong with these people? They aren’t really “trash” persons, but man, they sure behave crappily.

I don’t know what to expect of every new dawn, everything stays the same, and it’s so depressing. It really feels like I am alone, although with thoughts like “God exists, have patience and faithful, be strong, hold on”. It’s really confusing. My heart points at Him while my brain sees nothing, just a bunch of false promises and fallacies.
P.S: This day I had some sort of anxiety attack. Feels bad, man.

 

 Copyright @ Davide La Rocca for the picture.