Monthly Archives: December 2011

Mon Dec 26, 2011 1:23 pm

December 26th Unknown time
You can’t sleep. Your head works like a zapping Tv showing images of your past life and relationships all over again. The Tv overheats, you begin to sweat, it’s too hot, so you get out of bed.

You see an actual tv’s lights blinking out of your sister’s bedroom at this time of night so you go there to tell her, middle asleep, to turn it off. She doesn’t want to turn it off and her as always when I tell her to not do something, she answers “Look who’s talking, you always go to bed late so why can’t?” Checkmate.

The only option besides hitting her for her ad hominem is unplugging the Tv and leaving her room knowing that she will plug it again and turn the Tv on. I feel little. Not even my sister respects me. I can’t order her nothing. “Look who’s talking”. “Perla, turn your Tv off now”. “Why”. “Beacause I say it”. That would be the order of things.

I have no self respect. I’m worst than the last year. I’m on the bed again punching the pillows with a silenced anger. I scream silently. Sometimes I would like to have the “shit kicked out” of me. I’d like to go out to the street and lose a fight like on Fight Club.

I’m a “Damaged Good”, as I used to tell to this girl that I met on Transmilenio. Another year has arrived: 2012. Some insane people say it’s the “World end”, “The last new year”. I don’t fucking know what to do with my life. I cannot write a “step by step guide”. I’ve been postponing writing my “lifeplan” for years. Sometimes I feel that I go to the University just for the sake of doing something. My grades are mediocre, I’m a gray and invisible average character who may spend days without having any conversation with someone. Most of the time I feel tired. I’m no longer social. My future is a “maybe”, as I told to this great lawyer who said that I was going to be successful.

What am I doing with my life? My life is zapping in my mind, my life is skipping the time like on this Adam Sandler’s movie “Click”. I feel like a zombie. When I go out (not often), I’m usually half asleep, the colors aren’t that vivid. It’s unreal. I’m a zapping tv that needs a punch to have it’s signal fixed. [I was going to write “a spank”, but I think it would have left room for your perverted homo erotic misrepresentations].

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Sat Dec 24, 2011 2:44 pm

December 24th 2:44
Today, as in the last days (from 16th to 24th), we haven’t celebrated the “Novena”, a “preparation” to Christmas where families (and friends) get together sharing “Natilla” (a Colombian flan), “Buñuelos” (fried dough balls) and “Canelazo” (hot “agua de panela” with “aguardiente”). Even in the last year, while I was laying in bed depressed, my family celebrated it, but not this year.

We have gradually replaced the Novena with constant discussing about our separation and how that is tearing us apart as a family.

Not tonight. Fabian had just left. We played Xbox 360 for uncountable hours that will be added to the uncountable hours we had played before.

Tonight dad and I watched from 21 to 00 hours some documentaries in Discovery Civilization, brought to us by the new cable television that I don’t want to suck out my life. These documentaries where about the “Secret Tomb of Jesus” and “Who was Jesus?” Even when I haven’t made the “First Communion” in a catholic country as Colombia aka “El País del Sagrado Corazón”, I remembered the times when my dad used to read me books in bed, one of them was The Bible.

When reading, he usually says “It’s not for religion; it’s for power, for learning how to be a leader”. The Biblical fiction was more than fictional stories, was a blueprint for power. Now I understand that it was also examples of the so longed Manhood.

I wasn’t that interested in the possible location of Jesus’ bones (as directed by James Cameron). On the other way, I was interested in understanding how Jesuschrist became that charismatic figure more admirable for his human role than for his divinical figure. I also have some resemblance about the first pages of Klaus Kinski’s Ich Brauche Liebe (“I need love”).

It’s 3:39. While writing the above paragraphs I’ve been watching “The Reader”: how the law, the literature, the love, the lust and the secrets meet parts of my life, incarnated by other characters in another place and in a different time.

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Dec 20, 2011 1:26 am

December 15th 23:20

My Grandma, Perla and I left the “Terminal de Transportes” at 13:46. We took a blue bus, the “Turquesa” of the Coomotors company.

Last night I only slept like four hours from 5:00 to 9:00. My dad stood at my room’s entrance. His sole presence woke me up, as usual.

“Why don’t you join your grandma in her trip to Villavieja?”

“I don’t feel like going”, I answered and remained in bed.

My dad went downstairs while claiming out loud. “I don’t know what’s Leónida’s problem. I don’t know what he wants in life. He says no to everything”.

I got up, packed clothes for the next four to six days and left with my grandma on Turquesa.

The guy sitting to me in the bus can’t understand that when the trip on colombian’s roads are five to six hours long what you want is silence not Alquimia’s music from your laptop’s speakers while you’re playing solitaire.

At least I slept a little. When I woke up, the “flota” was in Melgar and another guy, more annoying than the latter was sitting next to me. He looked at my face, weared dirty brown trousers with white stains and, according to my sister, touched his crotch from time to time to time to time… I wanted to be sit next to Perla, this guy’s personal hygiene and creepy look at my face whenever I talked to my sister had my patience more wiped out than his “culo”.

For six hours of trip, my blatter was accumulating urine. At least the fat woman with arms like legs was not so annoying. Perla’s MP4 helped my patience.

We arrived at Neiva-Huila where we met with Amparo, grandma’s niece; and her husband Hugo who took us to his minivan to Villavieja.
At first Juan Sebastián and Yeison Stiven (or however you write it) didn’t recognize us, but Perla started playing tikles and aliens (“marcianitos”) that they soon remembered the last time we visited them (last January). When Hugo’s van took curves, all of us leaned by the force and “Chanchan” pointed us houses with Christmas lights, even if they were very humble.

December 16th 10:08

The lights were intermittent and therefore the fan turned off various times during the course of the night and that meant that I couldn’t sleep well. Amparo neither. Juan Sebastian started crying non stop for his pain in the ear. Maybe an infection.

Amparo is worried about Germán, her brother, eho had been sued by this woman for not paying the alimony of some girl she had fourteen years ago. It doesn’t matter if Germán is the real father or not, what it really matters is that because of his negligence in defending himself against her version of the facts, and for not hiring a good lawyer, he’s now facing jail for two to four years. My dad recommends to negotiate: there’s already a sentence so the only way out is paying something, not the $15’000.000 pesos she’s demanding without facts nor valid proof.

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Thu Dec 15, 2011 4:26 am

It’s almost 4:00 a.m. in the Morning and I just had my first Skype conversation with Prof. Plum.

How did I get to speak with this mysterious character at this time of the morning? I was bitching in the forum saying “I feel bad. I don’t know what to do”.

Prof. Plum, as I don’t wanna be accustomed to be called by him told me: “you are like a neurotic fucking headache” and without considering my local time told me to “shut your bitch mouth and get on” Skype.

My bitching mode thought: “I wasn’t even speaking, in this chat you don’t speak, you write. I haven’t seen his face and I’m already taking his orders at 3 am in the morning.”

Skype on. Prof Plum calling. Sorry TheBigL for not answering your call, you understand I had to talk to the chief here.

At first I was doubtful, I liked the first podcast but I was expecting that the voice coming out of my speakers was robotic and loquendo pretending to conceal something more than his identity. Not, he wasn’t, his voice it’s the voice of a man in his thirties, he sounded confident maybe I had lower expectations but he’s not a nerd even when he’s intellectual, maybe a lawyer or an economist.

Prof. Plum it’s not that I couldn’t understand what you were saying. It was because I have my speakers very low to avoid getting my folks out of bed. He almost transcribed like a fast secretary the entire conversation just for the sake of making me understand what he was saying. Even the obvious it’s not clear enough to be explained.

Prof. Plum its very categorical in his expression. He doesn’t mask what he’s saying with euphemisms nor tautological expressions that doesn’t mean anything. He just says what he wants you to do and explains why. You accept it or you have to start arguing with him over nonsense knowing beforehand that he knows what he’s saying.

He told me to stop bitching and to choose a path even if it’s the wrong path because I have to be responsible of my mistakes, even when I’m going to commit lot’s of them. Most of the time I’m indecisive and distracted, two of the things that disconcert people about me. He remembered me of one teacher in the University that made people repeat what they were saying until they said that in a confident way.

Prof. Plum even speaks Spanish. And he’s doing pretty well, his conversation is better than his writing which I corrected in one of the few occasions he told me to stop being a “Puta”. With his Spanish he guaranteed me that I’m going to improve my verbal communication in English by listening to all of the 61 podcasts.

Now it’s 4:24 there must be 1:24. He went to sleep on time and I’m still practicing. “You practice when you wake up in the morning to the moment you go to sleep”.

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Am I Only Dreaming? or Am I Lost in Transition?

My latest achievement from Gears of Wars 2 is “Am I only Dreaming?”

Right now I’m wondering if this is another dream: my life goes and comes between Transmilenio stations. There are fixed routes that you can look in the charts to know where to go. Three years later, I’m still feeling “Lost in Transition”. Not knowing if I have to go back or continue but not knowing which is the bus that takes me to my final destination.

Before submitting in Law School I knew that I was going on that path not because I wanted, but because I wanted to learn the rules of society and use them to my advantage and from keeping others off taking advantage from me.

Despite my need to be strong and powerful I couldn’t endure. Deep inside I already knew that getting good grades on one of (if not) the most important universities in Colombia. I knew that was not that difficult for me. I simply quit.

It seems I’m talented on quitting and not reaching my goals: v.gr. no more swimming, no more karate, nor Judo, nor Radio journalism as a kid, nor participating in literature contests, nor writing. Everything no more.

Lots of days without exposing myself to the daylight, cultivating depression, more laziness and therefore poverty. My parents were disappointed and worried, especially my dad: “Are you sick?”, “What’s your problem?”, “Are you ‘marica’?”, “Are you crazy?”, “What are you going to do with your life?” … I still remain silent.

As a lawyer, my dad was suspecting that the cause of my so called “crisis” was the ‘game theory’ he caught me reading late one night. I had to tell what I was reading and with which purpose, he supported me but he was suspecting: Mystery was depressed in ‘The Game’. He blamed that secret community, he blamed my “friends” from the internet forums, he especially blamed that self proclaimed seduction master “Naxos”. He wanted me back on track no matter the cost and the constant arguments.

The above has been told by me to psychologists and psychiatrist with more or less grade of detail. For them, what I was going through was a symptom of something from my past.

They’ve made me repeat my memories. I’m now tired of them. I’m tired of not knowing what is wrong with me nor knowing what I want to do with my life. I haven’t yet discarded any possibility.

Could be some kind of trauma that I don’t remember?

Could be those years my father spent in Peru defending “El Compadre” in an extradition process due to  drug traffic charges?

Could be my accident when 5 years old that left me with an unfixable broken nose?

Could be the kidney disease I inherited from dad?

Could be the year my dad spent in the clinic after the kidney transplant that could have killed him?

[Right now, as I’m writing this on my journal, my mother and father are in my room telling me to go to bed. It’s 1:00 a.m. in the morning. My non sleeping habit, according to them; harms psychological health].

[Mom brought me warm milk with albahaca to help me sleep]

Could be my overprotective mother?

Could be all those years I didn’t play with the kids of my age, instead I spent those years at home playing videogames, reading books and watching tv?

Could be my myopia and astigmatism causing me to wear glasses?

Could be the times dad beat me with a leather belt?

Could be my nails eating?

Could be my weak body?

Could be the fights between my dad and my grandmother because she disrespects his authority?

Could be all those times in high school when I didn’t go to the school or left early to play Halo 2 alone or with a friend?

Could be the weeks spent at home doing nothing more than sleeping, playing xbox, jerking off and arguing with my parents about my life and my career?

It seems I was going back to the station of depression. Months after quitting Law School I decided to go back to classes. I met some girls in the Transmilenio (not in the classes), had a ONS and continued my life with medication: blue pills to control my mood changes not the others created by Pfzer to make the girls happy.

In college I was doing mediocre. I didn’t’ care about my grades or about learning. I’ts me or teamwork sucks? It’s me or I’m a bad leader? I only cared about at leat doing something with my life, meeting girls in the Transmilenio to become better with women and fucking one or two occasionally but not the ones I really liked.

Until I invited this girl (I was attracted to her several years before reading game stuff) to help me with my college schedule before last semester. We ended programming my classes and we fucked. Not too long after we changed our relationship status in Facebook.

In those same vacations I travelled to San Andrés because a girl I had met invited me. I slept with her but she remained virgin (as she said). Before coming back to Bogotá, we accorded to not meet again because I already had a ‘girlfriend’. She was the “Chica del Transmilenio”.

I fucked my fathers secretary who’s  44 years old. I kssed a girl I had already fucked last year and I kept meeting girls in Transmilenio but nothing more has happened with them.

My “girlfriend” and I had this kind of relationship for 5 months (July-November)that was interrupted by our Universities and because I didn’t want t be kissing her ass as other guys kiss hers, I kept my distance from her. I didn’t call her for weeks and our relationship became more distant. We “broke up” very calmly, no tears nor sadness, just one last raw dog fuck.

I’ve finished this last semester. My grades aren’t good. I didn’t put the enough effort. Instead of doing the assignments I was reading Game and MRM blogs, playing Xbox and procrastinating my responsibilities.

I’m isolated as before. I haven’t met new girls in Transmilenio, my “friends” are away, and in my University I can spend days without talking to no one. I was distracted with videogames, tired of not sleeping enough and losing hours in Transmilenio.

I’m feeling going back to the same problems and crisis. I prefer loneliness and resignation; lazyness and irresponsibility. But not anymore…

To fight this situation I’ve read PUA stuff, I’ve done “daygame”, I’ve read a novels and I’ve even considered enrolling in the army (I’m not physically apt). I don’t want to lose time anymore, I want to become somebody important, powerful, charismatic. To achieve that I must find my way and work towards it. No more laziness, nor procrastination, nor loneliness, nor resignation, nor irresponsibility.

I’m between stations right now. I want to arrive to my station.

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