Written yesterday:

There is something I want to share, it was related to something previously written in this blog, but here I find a better form. It's from Neil in American Gods (page 322 on my edition). Don't want to commit plagiarism, even less knowing that it's from Gaiman.

"No man, proclaimed Donne, is an Island, and he was wrong. If we were not island, we would be lost, drowned in each other's tragedies. We are insulated (a word that means, literally, remember, made into an island) from the tragedy of others, by our island nature, and by the repetitive shape and formof the stories. The shape does not change;there was a human being who was born, lived, and then, by some means or another, died. There. You may fill in the details from your own experience. As unoriginal as any other tale, as unique as any other life. Lives are snowflakes--- forming patterns we have seen before, as like one another as peas in a pod (and have you ever looked at peas in a pod? I mean, really looked at them? There's not a chance you'd mistake one for another, after a minute's close inspection), but still unique.

Without individualswe see only numbers: a thousand dead, a hundred thousand dead, "casualities may rise to a million." With individual stories, the numbers become people--- but even that is a lie, for the people continue to suffer in numbers that themselves are numbing and meaningless. Look, see the child's swollen, swollen belly, and the flies that crawl at the corners of his eyes, his skeletal limbs: will it make it easier to know his name, his age, his dreams, his fears? To see him from the inside? And if it does, are we not doing a disservice to his sister, who lies in the searing dust beside him, a distorted, distended caricature of a human child? And there, if we feel for them, are they now more important to us than a thousand other children touched by the same famine, a thousand other young lives who will soon be food for the flies' own myriad squirming children?

We draw our lines around these moments of pain, and remain upon our islands, and they cannot hurt us. They are covered with a smooth, safe, nacreous layer to let them slip, pearlike, from our souls without real pain.

Fiction allows us to slide into these other heads, these other places, and look out through other eyes. And then in the tale we stop before we die, or we die vicariously and unharmed, and in the world beyond the tale we turn the page or close the book, and we resume our lives.

A life that is, like any other, unlike any other."

Don't completely agree, but it makes a point.

Written yesterday:

Today was a great day, not because one thing passed. It was a bunch of little good things that makes me smile while I read. Listened a mexican music history account on the morning. I am one of the few person I know who appreciate to learn history. Later, found myself chatting like if it were my unique job (2 out of 3 times it was really about work, team work, you do remember that I completely like the team part, isn't it?). I got more mail than usual, even a filarmonic event. In the brighter side was a Ficus mail, so you'll keep receiving Ficus news. My meal was excellent, don't know what was different but it tasted delicious. An hour before going, a surprise hungry attacked me; but I dismiss it as my reason to get that pleasure. Food, normally isn't part of my life, just happens to be a need that every once in a while, jeje, I fulfill. The afternoon was great, now a talk with Farfan and Monge. I will see them and who knows what could be. The "journey" ended with my and a teammate (named Jaime) who is teaching me how to make my work =) I could call him sensei or teacher if it weren't that I learn from him even if he makes it hard, jeje. His the kind of people who thinks one should work hard, maybe some pain, to truly learn. Gnostic, if you permit me to downsize the concept. He is a good guy who hasn't got it easy. As time passes I feel he sees me more like a pal than a tec-student-who-can-be-competence. You know, many times I have felt the tec-stygma (I don't complain it is an easy way to transform the stygma to an advantage ;) So if you reread my little good events, you will not find a miracle, or anything any people doesn't encounter in everyday life, nothing unusual; yet I'm Feliz. For the rest of the day, let's say 2 hours, I'll ficus a little and know it will be just as Feliz as all the day was.

Have I surpassed the bad mood? Don't think so, but everyday the sun rises =) I expect this feeling to be short, wasn't something I did (well maybe the attitude); but I welcome it.

From the OSC I write, I came here mainly for Pollo, and he wasn't here. Well today was an interesting day, full of not-work activities. I talked with padilla about moods, women, health. I ate with Julio at work. And pretty much chatted with my teammates about work. It could count as work, isn't it? There is mandrake 9.1 and that's great. There's Neil Gaiman blog and that's great. Yet that's superficial. I'm not depressed, nor apathic. Just think I'm starting to have a dull life, and that's not an option I could live on. I know I have to do something, however haven't figured it.

Have strong feeling to live, to enjoy. Think have the skill and attitude to fly high. Good Luck. Good friends. Even have a goal. Yet think something important I haven't considered happens. A vacuum force that could wrap my youth if I don't check it. I have to think more about my life, the world and everything in between. (Sounds like middle age crisis to me. Weird)

The last weekend entry for now:

I don't believe in life after death. But Allan asked how would my heaven be? (After telling me what other have answered). I, like yorch, couldn't get a definite image; but I knew what it wouldn't be. I envisaged a wood, there weren't computers, beds or anything human made (not even garments). How many times have I write in this blog about my feeling for technology, about my career? I love it, yet my heaven wouldn't need one. Do physicians' heaven have sickness? That's an answer. Allan inquired me (without the last phrase knowing) how is that in congruence with my everyday life? It appears that from time to time, Allan asks me something and I respond with an answer he would never have asumed. I never lie to him, it's funnier this way. Always gain from the muffy struggle. Probably the reason he likes to talk with me (amusement?) Anyway, freedom, free will is an import vector on my life. Some will point this as my main reason to be atheist. Don't think so, on another entry that will be fully answered. On the starry nights I observe them, in part, as a way to have the sky as roof. I look for clouds, in part, for the pleasure of being one. I dream and don't write them to let us be free. I'm ever searching for the truth to be libre. I despise money, yet I use it; but in my life I have no room for it. Free software, my career , my dreams, all is pointing to that just that I'm well hidden to make it happen. A subtle one.

Another weekend entry:

Yesterday, thursday, I went with Allan and Yorch to Gran Plaza. We get our donuts and they their coffees. We talked about how college change you. He said people are in the outer layes different, but homogenous in a deeper level. Before continuing I have to say that in my experience truth is sinoidal in nature. It goes bouncing on the extremes and several times you find yourself in the middle (that's why relativism is maybe so popular). For an alien we may be seen as all equal (one head, two lungs, many worries). It happen to us when we see zebras in the zoo =) One layer down, we know that everyone is an individual, gets a different life. And here ends the road for many, we like to know how unique we are, yet we currently despise unequality. We made up the human rights, we are born free and capitalism plus democracy says we should have equal opportunities (even though some success while other fail). And we shall not go deeper, for pain is just ahead. Truth is pain (second time I write this). Several people in their lifes notice that in a deeper level we are much the same, even with different circumstances. That's why we have psycology, astrology and religion. There is something we call human nature that maybe is so hard to distinguish with all this make up we call good manners, culture, etc. And think Allan was refering to this, maybe archeotypes. And yet I sustain that there is another level, hold as tenet "No one can wash himself twice in the same river". Believers could find in this level what they call destiny, your mision on earth. I will call it freedom, freedom of will. But some would say it's a quality, a point, not enough to be labeled a layer. For them I have chaos, a realm outside the traditional frontier of reason. Someone should bless the uncertainity principle. For those pragmatic, who get bored by buzzwords I rephrase it as "You can't be equal to another person, just because you aren't equal to what you think of yourself." People are trained to discover patterns.

Think that starting from now I can write my blog entries on the night, at home and copy-paste them. So this thing should have entries on weekends and holidays =) So let's start with it:

Since I was six, probably before, I liked women. I watched them and tried to figure what attracted me to them. I liked their eyes, ever since then; I seek them. It wasn't a carnal feeling, just the need to hold hands, to smell their perfumes, to make them smile. Now I'm 23, in other centuries that would be a full grown man and well beyond what people call adolescence; yet I feel like that. Not the stupid teen kind, neither the all-night-party guy (well I never was of the later kind). Today I walk through the malls, the corridors and I see them. For me, it is obvious that there are so many good-seen women that to admire each one, is futile, nonesense. However I see other men, and how they still react as teenagers when a long-leg girl pass. I can pretend to appraise her ("act masculine") and sometimes I really desire to watch her walk, but most of the time the feeling stays of amusement of human behavior. Am I to rational to feel (many times) no interest in yet-another-beatiful-girl? I'm in a quest for something special. This would be the perfect time to describe my perfect woman, but don't have one. I don't want to fall in love with an idyllic concept, I'm searching for a human being.

Have I fallen in love? Several times, different lifes. Have I find love? No. Am I currently seeking it? You could say so, if you consider my way a valid searching model. I'm taoist in that way. So how does this differ from sitting and waiting for the She?

Don't think love can be buyed with romantic gifts, or a good speech. I believe love is irrational, doesn't follow an economic approach of how much effort one invest. Love may be a coersion pact, in which neither of the participants consciously know the bargain. I'm talking about deep human nature. Watch a couple when they dance, neither knows the secret language their bodies are proclaiming. (That last sentence is a key part of my attitude with dancing =)