Misencounters

Not very long ago, I ran into a person who I was friends with when I was younger.
When I mentioned I was still fighting rare diseases he said something like: "but, then again, you were always rare". It was already surprising and disturbing to see him after almost a decade, that when he said that sentence I didn't have any instant reaction.

I know I've always been different, though I noticed it more because other people making an issue of it. I could always relate to many people - lately I've been told by an old school colleague that I was a very popular person back then, which it seems to me rather funny when I think of the past circumstances -, but never in full terms, because I only had one or two parts of myself that were in some way close to those people. But I never found someone entirely like me in the most important aspects that form a person's character and personality.

There was always at least one decisive point that didn't stick at all and that made the whole difference.

Getting close is okay at the same, I guess, though it gets a perfidious result: one is so close that we completely fall for each other and later that one aspect, it might take years, but it shows up innevitably to show that no one is really like you in all things that matter and that no one will get you completely for what you are. It's just not possible.

Even so, it's incredible , when one loves you for everything that he knows of you when you try to show him the most of you as possible.

Time does not exist, only egotistical people who have a sucession of happenings.

Some people, by any reasons, end up believing that love is just a trick of the brain and body chemistries to make you continue to procriate and survive as a species.
Some others think that it is everything, the whole reason to be alive for.

I guess, as in everything else, it is you who gives whatever meaning to it, what you focus on, the perception that you're inclined to because of all the circumstances you've been through.

(and then there are the ones who are also poets and love the idea of true and pure love and for that reason they keep the platonic love above everything on this Earth.)

ITP Warrior

Life can suck, big time really, even everyday.  But I'm a sucker for the challenge and being able to rise above it is a huge prize just for the sake of itself in the end. It's all there is: the struggle and the rising above.
Always bringing in mind that the bleeding is not to remember you're dying but instead to remember that you're alive, even if it isn't for nothing at all.

Out of billions of people only few are rare and different, truly standing out, not because they want to be different and forcefully try to, but because they're unique without even trying.
They stand out in having the best set of values, wisdom, intelligent and clarity.

Some of my daily trials of stress...

My daily trials which defy my patience and hype the venomous stress (for a Addison Disease person like me)..:

- rude kids who hit outside on the bedroom wall with footballs;
- noise of construction pneumatic hammer bellow the floor and its vibration hitting my bedroom starting from 8 a.m. and during all day;
- horrid noise of the ringing of unlocking the building's entrance door, each time, for more than a hundred people;
- rude cursing upstairs neighbors who are loud and throw water all down my window just overwatering a damn cactus plant;
- loud neighbors who gather on the building's entrance near our door and windows;
...

And that's just a fraction of my daily ordeals, that may seem made-up jokes, but they're just the raw truth, and all of it while I'm trying to do my work at home of transcriptions.
In time, like being exposed daily to venom I hope I get immune and not lose the war. I truly believe that it is almost making me achieve a status of being as patient as an elephant waiting for a bus. Yes, elephants don't wait for buses, therefor they don't need to be patient; and that's precisely it: I shall no longer be in need of being patient whatsoever. It seems a good plan.

The way believers portray god just proves its inexistence or that he is a sadist, prayer junkie, impotent, liar...

"What is that sound, ringing in my ears, the strangest sound I've heard for years and years?" The neverending sound of madness.

It's like when you're at home and you hear plane flying but its sound never ends, never even fades. Just keeps going and going, on and on.

The World I wished there was

If every person had a heart full of love and joy and tried to achieve the best inner status that they could, everyone would be a lot better and consequently the whole world too.

I wished there was a world without damaging violence towards others and ourselves and where the only weapons were the strenghtful words and wisdom to create and innovate in a sustainable way.

That would be enough as a starting point to develop and progressively generate a whole other level of perfection among societies. Especially when we know that we don't have a better world just because it's filled up with humans who aren't that humane at all. So it's just the simply result of the logic: better humans, better world.

We're living in times where everything gets absorbed by sameness and vulgarity.

Funny how there have always been thousands of attempts at building the perfect society in real life and books and movies, but they all have a bad start right from the basic fact that they make it with humans who, as we all know, are far from perfect, so perfection will always be an impossibility. 

Poem "I am" by John Clare

I am: yet what I am none cares or knows,
My friends forsake me like a memory lost;
I am the self-consumer of my woes,
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shades in love and death's oblivion lost;
And yet I am! and live with shadows tost

Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life nor joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems;
And e'en the dearest--that I loved the best
-- Are strange--nay, rather stranger than the rest.

I long for scenes where man has never trod;
A place where woman never smil'd or wept;
There to abide with my creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept:
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie;
The grass below--above the vaulted sky.

[first heard in "Penny Dreadful" series]

... because we are human

and we feel and we gasp for air

even when we know there's no air

and that our end is coming.

how nice it is to possess nothing but the freedom of truth and the acceptance of reality