jueves, septiembre 23, 2010

100 YEARS

UNAM celebrates 100 years as The National University of México...

Today is a day of celebration and pride for all those who study and studied in one of the many classrooms that the Universidad Nacional Autónoma of México provides for the delivery of knowledge.

I owe too much to UNAM. There I meet those are my best friends today. In it I fell in love and met disappointment, In it's classrooms learned that knowledge is not always what the teachers have, but what the students share...

It is common to hear or read from those who are important what they achieved thanks to what the UNAM gave them, but I'm writting from the other side of the coin (kind of)... Because I'm not the kind of person that people tend to follow. I'm not successful or a big contributor to culture or science... you could say I'm one of those at the bottom, one of the commons, with the difference that I'm far from the common.

UNAM has meant more than knowledge and great achievements... for me UNAM means losses, pain, sadness, disappoinment and bad memories. However, I found that the university has been one of the best experiences of my life.

I'm still part of the student enrollment of the university. I've swallowed the pain of knowing myself fitter than many colleagues who are already out of school, but I'm still here and I have to deal with it... this is only part of the things I've learned...

Being a student of the UNAM is like belonging to a secret lodge, many want to imitate but they will never be like the original... few are the chosen...

Thanks UNAM.

miércoles, septiembre 22, 2010

RUNNING

yesterday I went for a run...
Tezozomoc Park. It's a nice place actually.
I can't believe how many people run in the morning... it was awesome.
I used to run alone... at night. It's a different experience...
Instead of speaking of it I'd rather show you some pics.

I have to be honest... I died at the second lap, I felt terrible... but it just made me wanna beat my time... and after that, beat the time of my girlfriend's mom... she's in great shape. Actually I took a picture of her running away from me... I guess I couldn't live with impunity after everything I've eaten... hahaha

This is just the beginning...

(Thanks babe).

viernes, septiembre 17, 2010

I'M FUCKING PISSED

What's wrong with you people?
I mean, WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM... stupid scumbag people...
A few minutes ago my brother was assaulted, right here, in front of my house. He was oppening the door of the car when some rude-fucking-asshole-fat bastard took him from behind and assaulted him... I'm pissed, I'm very pissed and I don't know what to do...
I can't belive that these things are happening just after the day that is supposed to be a reminder for the unity of this (I was going to say fucking... but no) country called México.
I love the place... just hate some peolple... a lot, actually. I could say hurray for México but I can't say the same for the people, sadly México is the people and the people is México... so, I assume I can't say hurray anyway.

Things can't be this way...

There's gonna be a time when people are going to take the justice in their hands (again... like in the old good days).
Suddenly this movie came to my mind and I think, I really think this could happen very soon here in my beloved country...


or maybe this


Some people say that you can't kill the monster without becoming the monster... but sometimes you have to fight fire with fire... if you know what I mean.

Someday this is going to happen... and don't say I didn't tell you.

viernes, agosto 20, 2010

MOST OF THE TIME I'M SCARED

Most of the time I'm scared, scared of not being good enough, at what?, at everything.

Most of the people I know think that I'm strong enough to face anything... my family, some friends, people on the street... The fact is that they only see what I let them see about me. There's a few people who really knows how I am... I can count them with my fingers.

I quit my job last week.
I still remember my first day at the office. Everybody saw me like a weirdo or something like that... they didn't know what the hell I was going to do... actually, I didn't know either.
Little by little, I showed my skills. My partners thought that I was good... very good actually*.
The fact is that every single day that I was there I worked in fear... the fear of committing a mistake and doesn't know how to solve it. Of course I never let the others know about this.
I quit, first of all, because I was working on three or four different things at the same time for the price of one... **
Second, because of the money... the were paying me a riddiculous amount of money...

I worked hard... I did my best and my partners thought that I was the best... the truth is that I was always afraid that my mask fell off and they notice that I'm nothing but a liar, a cheater... That I'm not what they saw.
That's what I'm afraid of... Not being as good as everybody thinks I am... not being as good as I should be...

Now I wanna finish my last moan in this blog with this quote from the Rockbiter:

"They look like big, good, strong hands, dont they? I always thought that's what they were. (...) I couldn't hold on to them. The nothing pulled them right out off my hands. I failed."***



*Indeed, they weren't very smart...
** I worked with the accounting department, I worked as technical support, I worked as translator and English Consultant, I took care of the importations and also I had to help pack candy... yes, candy... oh, and many times I was the delivery boy... all for the same salary.
*** Rockbiter, The Never Ending Story

martes, agosto 10, 2010

If your right hand...

Loathe feel pressured in something that should be nice and awesome.

It is hard to know what's going on inside my head, I can't take off this phrase of my mind:
"And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to go into hell."
I think I know what does it mean...
It means that is time to go back to the psychologist.

viernes, junio 25, 2010

EL HOMBRE QUE CONTABA HISTORIAS (Oscar Wilde)

Había una vez un hombre muy querido de su pueblo porque contaba historias. Todas las mañanas salía del pueblo y, cuando volvía por las noches, todos los trabajadores del pueblo, tras haber bregado todo el día, se reunían a su alrededor y le decían: -Vamos, cuenta, ¿qué has visto hoy? Él explicaba:
-He visto en el bosque a un fauno que tenía una flauta y que obligaba a danzar a un corro de silvanos.
-Sigue contando, ¿qué más has visto? -decían los hombres.

-Al llegar a la orilla del mar he visto, al filo de las olas, a tres sirenas que peinaban sus verdes cabellos con un peine de oro. Y los hombres lo apreciaban porque les contaba historias.
Una mañana dejó su pueblo, como todas las mañanas... Mas al llegar a la orilla del mar, he aquí que vio a tres sirenas, tres sirenas que, al filo de las olas, peinaban sus cabellos verdes con un peine de oro. Y, como continuara su paseo, llegando cerca del bosque, vio a un fauno que tañía su flauta y a un corro de silvanos... Aquella noche, cuando regresó a su pueblo y, como los otros días, le preguntaron:
-Vamos, cuenta: ¿qué has visto? Él respondió:
-No he visto nada.

-------------------o----------------------

Esta cuento lo leí hace mucho tiempo, cuando era pequeño, y quedé enamorado.

Sólo quería compartirlo con las pocas personas que entran a checar este blog.

Gracias ;D

jueves, junio 24, 2010

CONTINUACIÓN DE "YO NO SÉ HABLAR FRANCÉS"

Esta es una continuación del post anterior, el cual por funcionalidad dramática debería estar arriba de este, pero no lo está, así que sería buena idea leer el anterior para poder seguir con éste.

Levantarse todos los días temprano, ir a la escuela, regresar, comer, ver la tele, hacer tarea (o no), desvelarse y dormir para volver a levantarse e ir a la escuela... Así era mi vida desde que tengo uso de razón.

Cuando fui un imberbe pre-puberto de 10 años, soñaba con ser médico. Poco a poco ese sueño se fue transformando en algo diferente. Lo siguiente que recuerdo en cuanto a mis aspiraciones frustradas era ser abogado... afortunadamente no seguí con esa idea.

Durante mucho tiempo estuve sin una vocación en la mente. Realmente nunca supe lo que quería ser o hacer... hay días en los que me doy cuenta de que sigo sin saber.

Al momento de ingresar a la universidad iba decidido a ser periodista, dos años después estaba escogiendo una opción terminal totalmente diferente a lo que se había planeado. Soy comunicólogo (más o menos), pero mi tendencia es la Producción Audiovisual... (y producir caca también).

Durante todo el tiempo que llevo viviendo he caminado con bandera de duda, porque me ha sido difícil definir qué demonios quiero de mi vida. ¿Levantarme todos los días para ir a trabajar a la misma oficina durante años y años para terminar viejo y cansado, con una familia, un perro o gato y una renta que cubrir? ¡Safo!

A veces pienso que la finalidad absoluta del ser es lograr disfrutar el entorno en el que se desarrolla, el lugar donde vive y las cosas que hace... pero qué se hace cuando esto no sucede... ¿te mueres? Bueno, de cierta manera sí, por eso se habla de personas que están muertas por dentro...

¿Dónde está la felicidad? La felicidad está en las pequeñas cosas que haces, "No hagas lo que amas, ama lo que haces" dicen, pero donde estoy, haciendo lo que hago, no me siento feliz... sin embargo no puedo irme... disyuntivas de la vida en sociedad, regala tu trabajo o cobra poco pero consume mucho... "y poco a poco se va muriendo la creatividad que solía caracterizar al viejo rey...".

Al final, no estoy salvando vidas en algún país tercermundista (ni ahí ni en ningún lado), no soy el abogado de los pobres y no escribo columnas para ningún periódico. No soy rockstar ni tengo un trabajo que me remunera miles y miles de pesos por catorcena. Lo único que me queda es un montón de sueños que se quedaron en eso, en sueños.

Obviamente estoy hablando de lo que hay dentro de mí... porque en el aspecto externo hay muchas personas que estoy seguro que darían el brazo derecho por un servidor... o el izquierdo si son zurdos. Pero internamente siento que hubo un punto en la vida en que comencé a caminar para atrás... y ahora estoy llegando a otro lado que no es el punto de partida... y me aterro.

No me quejo de la vida, la vida es maravillosa, es un regalo increíble... me quejo de mí.

Reportando desde el segundo recinto del séptimo círculo del infierno: Gandemaster

UNA DE MUCHAS HISTORIAS: IMANES

Hoy vengo a contar una de muchas pequeñas historias. Esta historia comienza hace diez años. Un chico deprimido que intentaba salir de su e...