So, not too long ago, actually, about a week, 52 mutilated bodies were found in and around an important monument in my city, you see, narcotic trafickers have quiete a strong influence here, it’s almost like they rule the streets, they do shit, and nobody can stop them, and when the corrupt, cohibed, poor and ineficient police manages to capture an important drug lord, another one comes right up to fill the empty space.

Today i was arguing with my dear mother about this subject, she did not want me to go out as much as i do as she thinks (and me too) that it’s very insecure and that i could get in trouble, this let me thinking.

I think that when something like this happens, we should still go out, and do shit, we shouldn’t let the drug clans command our lives, we own our home, we own this city, not them, they don’t have the right to rule over us with violence, the whole point of that massacre was to scare people, to show the government and the presidential candidates that THEY rule, to keep people scared and indoors, and i think that even if it’s unsafe, even if you’re at risk, staying in, doing what they told you, is admiting they have controll, if we let that massacre and their actions dictate the way we live without any resistance, if we stay indoors and scared just like they planned, we are giving them authority, we are letting them know we respect their command and their rules, we are admiting that they rule our city and our home not only more than the government, but more than ourselves.

I do not agree.

Today i was reading about low impact “Eco turism” and, well, thought about the way the text was made, this is not my opinion about eco turism, but my opinion about most informative and promotional texts nowadays, and i beg pardon from my friend, who sent it to me, but some of the things i saw made me think, and i just had to write it down somewhere.

So, the text starts with a little introduction, telling you what Eco Tourism is, well, i noticed that as the text goes on and on, it starts hanging more and more useless buzz words, that are all hard to read, and starts saying how great this tourism is, as soon as i noticed this was happening i started reading very, VERY slowly and closely until every single paragraph was clear, and you know what? it was horrible, this turism (the way the theory is explained and how it supposedly works) is incredibly dangerous for absolutely everyone and is a pile of shit in some aspects.

BUT the text was so carefuly made so you wouldn’t notice the errors and so that you would only get the message “This kind of tourism helps the environment and the people, it’s good, all the world should have it”… there were so many words so carefully placed to obviously confuse, and this is where i make my point…

I’ve read thousands of texts like this and i think i should put it here, just like this “Every day i see more worth for shit texts promoting all sorts of things, telling you what to do, and how different things should be, they seriously come up with any issue you can imagine, videogames, tourism, food, black people, white people, asians, but that is not really important, what i want to say right here, right now, is that you should always carefuly analyze every single promotion or informative text you read, because it’s text like those, that fill you with shit, and implant very subtle ideas in your mind, this text is actually not one of those, but i could see what whoever wrote it did, so be careful when you read, there’s more poeple trying to fill your head with shit than you imagine.”

Every day i wake up in my dark room, stand up, get dressed and ready for my day and head out before the sun rises, everyday with a promise, a lie that everything will be ok, the huge lie that everyone has been telling us all along…

Have you ever noticed how the clear blue skies that everyone promised so easily turned into red? how the green fields you used to see became skyscrapers owned by banks? how every time a war ends another one starts? did you expect to see all your ilusions crushed by your own friends? did you expect to wake up every day, walk up to school or work, and notice how every damn face you see is another doomed soul, sinking, dying, and without salvation? did you think you would find yourself seeing the fucking titanic sink every fucking day?

It doesn’t really matter what you do, from the moment you meet them you can be damn sure that every face you see is doomed, that every single person you know is going to put all it’s effort on destroying itself, that it doesn’t matter what you think or do, you will see all your friends sink deeper and deeper without return.

Every person is a ship.

And everyone is sinking.

Yesterday i was talking with a close friend, eating at a park and we started talking about marihuana legalization, and then we saw 2 guys walking towards us, we both got a bit nervous and after they passed us i said “I don’t like people, they make me nervous all time” in a joking manner, to which she anwsered “Yeah, me too” and that got us thinking…

It’s funny, you can’t open yourself to the world because you get hurt, but being closed and always expecting an attack is just… sickening… we shouldn’t have to do that, we shouldn’t have to take daggers and sprays when we go out for a walk, we shouldn’t have to be on edge everytime we hear someone walking behind us…

But walking distracted and without protection around any city, at any hour, just not caring about anything is eventually going to get you hurt.

What a world, in which we can’t trust anyone no more.

Hello readers, today something very important happened, something that maade me very happy, maybe i don’t show it too much but it flipped brain upside down… it is seriously one of the most amazing and happy events in my life…

To tell you my dilemma, i must first say that i consider myself an artistical person, i like photography, reading, observing the world, writing, playin the guitar, and i even consider cutting myself art (though i have made a promise not to do it anymore) and last but not least, hearing music, i love music a lot, i hear it everyday, i am always thinking of a song, almost every single moment,  also, to explain my ironical situation, i must tell you that i consider myself a sad, angry person…

You know, thinking so much sometimes hurts you, the deeper you try to understand the world, the more things you see, you see diferent things as you grow up and slowly navigate the waters of life, and eventually, you will fnd the really horrible things, monsters, abominations, if you look around a lot, and really want to know what you see deeply, you will find more and more of this demons, and sometimes, you will find that these demons live inside you too, you are also a guest for them and you also bend to their will, this can make you very, very sad, angry and confused, you can get to hate everything and everyone, including yourself, and even though i’m ignorant, and haven’t seen much, i have already seen enough horrible things to last a lifetime, the world has changed me and shaped me into this, i am sad, angry and hurt person, just like many others out there…

But what happened today, as i said, really flipped the heck out of my brain, i can’t describe how happy (or how not sad) this has made me, so, when i came back home, and sat on the computer, i wanted to listen to music, and i noticed none of my music was joyful enough to express this moment, even the bright, optimistic songs seemed too dark, as i said, i consider myself sad and angry, my music reflects a lot of me, sad and angry, i was simply amazed, i realized i haddn’t been this happy in ages…

And as i finish writting this, i noticed something truly amazing as well… this is the first happy public post of the thinker’s blog (yes, there is only another happy post, and it’s marked as private).

So now i sit, in front of the screen, wondering what the hell am i going to listen to now.

Part 2:

I Had stopped crying now, and was still in my bathroom, sitting on the stool, supporting my elbows on my legs, i looked down at the cut and thought about it’s appearance, it looked so inocent, so shallow, like it was just a deep scratch, no, it was much deeper and it meant much more…

I stood up and pulled my pants up, i walked to the sink and leaned on it, i looked at the reflextion of the dagger on the dirty mirror, it still had some stains of blood i haddn’t been able to clean, i changed the side of the blade and saw some really old stains, blood from months ago, it was so oxydized it was now black, there was no way anyone could know it was blood… i raised my eyes and saw how my neck palpitated as my heartbeat raised, i looked into my eyes.

I stared into them, they looked lost, greener than they had ever been, i kept staring into them as the room seemed to turn darker and darker and i thought “time to dissapear”

I turned around and walked out of the bathroom as i thought “if your “plan” fails, you can congratulate yourself, as you just mutilated the most importan part of your social life”

Ok so, recently i published this texts that diddn’t make much sense and, even in my opinion, were over sentimental considering this is “The thinker blog” and not “The emo drama queen blog” but i think i have to say that i believe this texts can bring my readers (both close and distant ones) to understand at least a bit more about myself and my recent decisions.

this texts, rather than being written to mean something to someone else (readers) are written to mean something to me, and give a bit of that to you, my reader, thanks for taking the time to read them, i hope that, whoever you are, they let you understand my weird brain a bit better than you could if you haddn’t read them.

Part 1:

I was there, sitting on a little stool in the bathroom, dagger in hand, with a serious expression, normally when i cut myself it’s because of rage against a situation, against a general group of people or even myself, mainly sadness, it is one of my little ways of expressing myself, the pain is meaningless, it’s one of the little ways i have of being free, just for some minutes, but still, it’s one of the only ways i can, it’s like the most expressive painting you could ever do, the most emotional and sensitive book you could write, it’s one of the strongest ways to shout out everything, but today it was different, when i finished, i wassn’t free, i wassn’t liberated, i wassn’t lighter, i was as angry as i was when i started, today, i had failed to express myself, because today i felt a different kind of anger, i felt so violated, and so hurt that i just couldn’t fell even a bit lightened, a bit happier, a bit free, i had failed…

I started cutting the skin in the spot that caught my attention the most, and i kept cutting, like always, i started seeing blood, and saw how the tip of the dagger turned red, i kept cutting, deeper and deeper, thinking “it’s not deep enough”, “it’s not deep enough” like i always do, i started seeing the tip of the dagger go further in the wound, and the sound the dagger made while cutting the skin changed to a weird cracking, it meant it was cutting the muscle or the fat now, normally i would have stoped there, that’s the point where i usually do, but today i thought “it’s not deep enough” and i kept cutting, deeper and deeper, thinking the same exact words with every single stroke of the dagger.

And, like a plane going through the sound barrier, i started feeling more and more pain, but it was not what it used to be, it was no longer freeing me, i was no longer feeling i was expressing myself, and suddenly, the pain stopped, i looked down and the dagger was at least 2 millimeters inside my leg, the words “it’s not deep enough” echoed in my head, but i knew that if i went deeper i would cut something sensitive in my leg, and i realized, this feeling, this pain, this matter that made me make that exact cut in that exact place was so intense, that no matter how deep i went, it would never be enough to express it, so i took out the dagger, cleaned it with my shoe.

And cried with anger.

yesterday i had a dream, a very horrbile dream, not like the nightmare i wrote about some weeks ago, but still, i don’t know what, but it means something to me, it has made me think about the future, and the world, about myself and others, i am thinking about taking that dream, and turning it into a very short, inconcluse story, with proper narrative and atmosphere.

I’ts just an “it’d be cool if” idea, but i might do it.

I have become a slave, a ghost for the system, food for the beast, energy for the machine, i am not allowed to love, i’m not allowed to spend time alone, i’m not allowed to leave my post ever, and if i do, i shall be punished…

I have been thinking about many things lately, some so deeply personal that i don’t publish them anymore, but after a lot of thinking i realized this…

And i am sure when i tell you that i have become a slave for the huge machine, i have become a slave to the rest of the ghosts, i am slowly fading into the crowd, loosing my true identity, there is no more time for friends, there is no more time for expression, there is no time for anything but work, and after working, i’d expect i’d have my identity and my self given back to me… but i don’t… they keep it, they keep me in my little cage until they need me again, they put my freedom away in a safe, and leave me rotting until they need me again, i can’t speak, or i will be punished, i can’t move, or i will be punished, i can’t free myself from the chains because they will put them on again, i am condemned to stay still in my white room, while i rot, and when they call me again, i must answer… everyday i have less energy, everyday i feel even more pain, everyday i’m more hollow, everyday i loose myself a bit more… and they still want me to go out and work, they still want me to go on with their stupid show, they want me to break every bone and crack every muscle, they want me to pop every artery and vein, they want me to keep pushing until my feet bleed and my eyes come out, until my saliva turns to dust and my flesh falls off, they want me to waste every bit of energy until there is nothing more but my dead carcass, and it gets worse everyday, there are so little things keeping me sane, and every single one of them is trying to fade away, every single thing i’ve found keeping myself straight just attempts to vanish… they really want to take every single thing away from me, they really want to destroy every single bit of me.