For the Kicks

Well, today I'm going up a small moor with my sister. It's a light stroll and the view over the sea is awesome. But the real spirit of the walk is talking while we go up. Honestly, I can't believe how much a human being needs to interact with others, even if we don't give away all we are, and even if I don't feel I can actually show myself to another person, just talking, chatting, makes one feel like one exists. I'd dare to say that as much as we need it like we need water or air, we need to feel that we are here.

Friends

They're awesome. My buddy was here a while ago, so was my sister, and lately I've gotten very attached to her. Maturing, I guess. Well, we laugh like crazy, share, talk, my ex, his projects, her boyfriend, the morality of partying until one can't stand on their feet, etc.

And nothing has happened that made me realize something, this is not the product of any epiphany of sorts, I just love having friends. Hey, comment something, bet you have your share of fellas. Let's pretend we meet each other, talk me about you, I'm just the kind of person that likes to hear about others.

Hey

Read The Brothers Karamazov
NO, I MEAN, REALLY GET INTO THE DAMN BOOK
Cry manly tears
Seriously

Well isn't that one of those afternoons?

Well yes it is, not a good weather to go out and play so all the demons stay inside and one can write blog entries and such. But anyways.
I'll enjoy this afternoon. Even without a muse or a good feeling, like the feeling of your lover's body close to you (one i'll be missing for quite a while), i'll let go, hear some music, look at myself, perhaps drift a bit away, be self-destructive for a while, just for the fun.
Here's to you enjoy your afternoons and Sundays too, cheers!

On noise

What is it that, in such a unstoppable way, the man of our time chases? Why does he run? What is he after that he craves so much? What does he buy so much? Noise. The man needs it, he buys it and he manufactures it, because we're afraid of silence in an underlying way, but the hysteria that drives our lust for the noise we lack is unnerving, it's a mute unsteadiness, a chaotic wing flapping, frantic and nauseating, and completely voiceless under the ordinary tarnish of it all, null for being just a reflex of the masses (a quality of the sheep-like, this null.)

Will you stay in silence in your bedroom? Will you take off the headphones to listen around? Or take a walk just to hear your own thoughts? Will you eat in silence your dinner? And let the ghosts sit and talk to you?
Will you read something that forces you to stop to let it sink? And let them crumble all you thought was true?
No, perhaps you rather some noise.

Vanitas vanitatum omnia vanitas

Buenas lectores, esta es mi primera entrada, en el primer blog que he tenido, y la primera vez que hago de autor en internet.
También es un placer culposo sentir que las sencillas palabras de uno serán leídas, serán compartidas, y que se puede esperar una crítica, como si algo valieran. En todo caso, por encima de éste pracer un tanto infantil  y cándido con toda su vanidad, está el placer de saber que uno se comunica, que reverbera y que el mundo no solo no es silencioso, sino que tambien oye. Es el eterno placer del hombre que se confirma con la escritura, y por un segundo sueña con ser, también él, eterno.
En todo caso, escribo por el gusto de escribir, para hallar un lugar donde transcribir mis historias, y porque siento que la ilusión de que recorrerán ojos ajenos cada línea, me anima un poco, me incentiva, que la vanidad ligera que tengo se escapa de las cadenas donde la guardo día a día, y me tiene ella a mi. Pero que no me lleve.
Además, un par de historias que llevo escritas, y me han gustado un poco, disfrutenlas