Las mentiras que nos decimos para hacernos sentir mejor...

-Si tu eres feliz yo tambien lo sere...- Cuantas veces he dicho esta frase hacia esa persona que mas he amado y mas me ha lastimado. Nunca fue mi intencion que sonara como mentira, mucho menos que no me creyeras. Cuando lo dije salio del fondo de mi corazon, estupido e ingenuo corazon que no sabia lo que decia. Momentos en los cuales mi mente fue suprimida por mis sentimientos. Aquellos sentimientos que dictaban una agridulce poesia. En el momento si lo senti, si lo desee. Tu felicidad es suficiente para mi. Porque apesar de todo tu eras mi razon de ser feliz, eras el motivo de todas mis sonrisas. Cuando esa frase salio de mi boca fue completamente cierto, sin realizar lo dificil que podria ser. El verte con alguien mas, que dieras ese beso que se suponia que iba destinado para mi, aquellas risas que ya no compartiremos. Los eternos celos y ese sentimiento de soledad que siempre reinara en mi, acompanandome como un aura negra. Estupido mi corazon al pensar que con esa frase todo se iba a solucionar, y que pronto te darias cuenta que la verdadera felicidad viene solo de mi. Iluso corazon. Por algo se piensa con la cabeza y no el corazon. Porque si fuera diferente no podria darme cuenta que ahora estas mejor que antes, que tu vida desde que te fuiste de mi ha mejorado y encontraste la verdadera felicidad. La realidad es tan dificil de digerir que mi mente se reusa a aceptarla. Talvez yo no fui el senor perfecto, pero si sirve de algun consuelo por lo menos en mi mente queda la idea de que fui parte de tu camino a la felicidad verdadera. Odio la simple idea, y es tan dificil el tan solo repetirlo, pero ahora estas mejor sin mi y se supone que si tu eres feliz yo tambien lo sere. Pero a la vez te llevaste parte de mi corazon. La felicidad sin ti no existe. Felicidad sin mi amor no es felicidad de verdad.

R.A.Pastor

Percusion de metal

Se escucha a lo lejos, como armada de guerra. Con los truenos dando sus gritos de guerra, anunciando que la tempestad esta por venir. Soldados suicidas determinados a cumplir su funcion, lanzandose al vacio sin importar que pierdan su vida. Ninguna nacion ha visto ejercito mas grande, mas numerosa y mas dedicada. El panorama se ve cubierto, cada una de estas gotas toma su parte del cielo mientras cae, cae para descubrir su destino en el piso. Diferente a su manera, toda gota es diferente a su companera de viaje. Talvez tengan motivos distintos, o vengan de lugares diferentes, o sus credos no son los mismos. Cada gota es unica a su manera y cuando impactan cada una produce un sonido sin comparacion. Juntos producen una sinfonia, que a oidos mundanos no es mas que ruido que se sobrepone a todo lo demas. Pero para una persona que sabe apreciar la belleza escondida detras de este ciclo uno comprende que cada gota quiere contar su historia personal, su recorrido por el cielo. Formando una percusion impresionante. Ritmos que ningun musico podria igualar, sonidos que ningun instrumento podra reproducir. Aquellas historias de los valerosos viajeros que dan su vida por la tierra, por continuar la vida y darnos una oportunidad para enmendar nuestros errores. El tiempo pasa y con ella la tormenta. Deben diseminarse por todo el mundo, es su mision. Su proposito. El sol ha aclarado el panorama y la lluvia ha migrado a otra zona. Pero la percusion aun continua, bajo un techo blanco. Gotas golpeando el piso. Gotas saladas llenas de sentimiento. Una diferente clase de lluvia ahora precipita mas cerca de lo que yo pensaba.

R.A.Pastor

El dolor dentro de mi corazon

Esa presion que te invade el torax, el dolor que te nubla la mente y el sufrimiento que no deja moverte. Este sentimiento me consume lentamente, es un virus dentro de mi sistema. Es parte de mi adiccion, trato de detenerme pero mi cuerpo me pide cada vez mas. Un mensaje, una foto ya no son suficientes como antes. Trato de acercarme un poco mas pero cada momento que me acerco mas termino lastimado. No eres tu. Nunca fuiste tu la que me lastima. Soy yo. Autodestructivo y masoquista. Desde aquel dia que dejaste de ser mia poco a poco he perdido la razon de mi existencia. Viviendo en las remembranzas dentro de mi corazon. Tiempo perdido viviendo en el pasado. Hace ya un par de anos y mi corazon aun no se acostumbra a la idea de no tenerte cerca. El despertarse sin un mensaje tuyo. Las tardes sin tus abrazos. Aquellos lunes sin tus llamadas. La idea de que ya no eres mia aun me atormenta. Se que ahora eres feliz y que has encontrado tu manera de vivir. Quisiera ser tan fuerte como tu, y poder superar todo. Aun te amo y ese es mi mas grande error. No puedo separar el sentimiento del recuerdo tuyo. Como si ambos estuvieran de la mano. "Naci solo para verte llegar a mi". Tristemente nunca habla sobre cuando aquel clis de sol deja al guardafronteras. Ya no estoy ahi por ti, sino estan otros para ti. Eso me consume grandemente, lo unico que deseo es que mi Julieta vuelva a mi. Es casi sencillo. Vuelve conmigo pandita.

R.A.Pastor

Dios y su sentido del humor

Nunca te has puesto a pensar porque esa persona solitaria que iba caminando por el campo le cayo un rayo y lo mato, y por aquella cadena de oro que le regalo su esposa fue la razon que atrajo ese rayo? O sobre aquella persona que compra todo tipo de seguridad para su carro, cadenas y candados, junto con alarmas y sistemas anti-robos, y todo para que un auto le caiga encima? La ironia es el reflejo de aquel sentido del humor de nuestro creador. Como sera estar toda la eternidad acostado en una cama de nubes, con el coronel en el hombro dandole de comer pollo frito. Mi idea es que es muy aburrido, si nosotros tenemos el impulso de encontrar algo que nos entretenga despues de 10 miseros minutos sin hacer nada, tan solo imaginense como hara Dios. Es como lluvia el dia de tu boda. Es como cuando necesitas un cuchillo para cortar y solo hay cucharas. Si la estoy citando, en cierta manera tenia razon. La vida es ironica y da giros y vueltas tan desafortunadas. Esta es mi manera de ver la vida, un gran sorbete de excrementos marrones con un poco de guayabitas encima. La vida es una mierda por cualquier lado que la veas. Al final todos morimos, ya sea de una muerte completamente tragica y dolorosa o tan solo por una infeccion letal por una cortadura con el papel de la biblia. Ironico no? Asi es la vida, cruda despiadada y tan divertida a la vez. Un llanto y una risa por dia. Porque solo tenemos una vida.

R.A.Pastor

Caricias de animas perdidas

Mi piel se eriza con el simple pensamiento. Mas que pensamiento se convierte en un recuerdo, recuerdo de todas aquellos tiempos en que solo eramos tu y yo. Tus gotas de sudor mezcladas con las mias. Atardeceres que se gastaron en nuestros ojos y noches que nos arroparon. Las veces que mis dedos se encontraron con los tuyos entrelazandose y creando un vinculo perenne. Tu piel junto a la mia, escuchando tus latidos haciendo dueto junto a las mias. Aquellos labios que una vez besaron los mios y la silueta de nuestros cuellos formando un corazon en la pared. La piel se eriza y el corazon sangra. Creando un requiem para poder olvidarte. Dulce sinfonia del organo que despide tu feretro. He ahi un hombre de traje negro y corbata roja, con su cabeza baja y lagrimas brotando de sus ojos. Tan solo mirandose sus manos, unas manos llenas de sangre y penurias. Ese hombre soy yo. Asesino de suenos y esperanzas juntos. Soy el director de obras funebres, el creador de esta obra de arte. Yo cave la tumba y escribi el epitafio. Aqui yace aquella persona que una vez ame. Desde aquel dia no solo te convertiste en fertilizante para las rosas negras, sino en el espectro que ahora me persigue. Un anima que ahora se pasea por el cuarto, que pasa por el mismo lugar donde una vez estuviste. La atmosfera que me rodea se torna fria y subita. El roce que una vez hizo mi corazon acelerarse, ahora hace que me despierte sudando frio. Mi corazon se encargo de quitarte la vida y enterrarte en una prision marron. Confuso y desorientado este ya no sabe que senal emitir. Mi cerebro te siente junto a mi. Cada dermatoma se activa con tu roce pero enganan a mis ojos. Ya no estas aqui, aun me pregunto por que no estas aqui. Talvez, y solo talvez, si Lazaro fue capaz de resucitar, tambien haya una posibilidad de que tu tambien lo hagas.

R.A.Pastor

Entre Amor y Odio

No son solo un par de sentimientos, son dos grandes supernovas colisionando en nuestro corazón. Sin importar como empezó, una caricia o un roce. Todo evoluciona en un torbellino de sentimientos mezclados con pasión, sangre y lágrimas. Aquel coctel que con solo un sorbo hace que nuestras papilas gustativas se deleiten en un waltz contemporáneo. Mundos tan opuestos y a la vez tan similares entre sí. Se dice que hay una linea tan delgada dividiendo el espacio entre el amor y el odio.

La pasión contenida en ambas no cambia solo porque le cambiemos el nombre al sentimiento. La misma intensidad se transfiere al otro lado del río. Están atados uno al otro por un pequeño cordel color carmesí. Pero realmente serán mundos diferentes o tan solo diferentes tonalidades del mismo color? Aquellos lazos fraternales que los unen, la misma gama por definición tan solo liberados de una diferente manera. Amor. Odio. Odio. Amor. Son mas sinónimos que antónimos.

Tan solo si se separara el hecho de que con uno tratas de hacer feliz a una persona mientras que al otro tratas de hacerla miserable. Extrapolando esta situación realmente todo lo demás lo tienen en común. La misma intensidad aplicada uno a la otra, pero utilizada por razones diferentes. Al final del día no importa si te ame o te odie, siempre estarás en mi mente y en mi corazón. La realidad es que hasta el momento en que sus caminos cambian son sentimientos hermanos, nacidos del mismo lugar y con su misma manera de evolucionar.

El antónimo de amor no es el odio como todos creen, es la indiferencia. Cuando amas a esa persona estas pendiente de su vida, de la forma en cómo reacciona, sobre cómo piensa y actúa, tomas gran interés en la persona que amas con tanto fervor. Al contrario de eso, cuando el amor muere en tu corazón la persona también. No me importa si vive o muere, no importa si estas o no. La indiferencia es la respuesta. Porque donde amor hubo, tan solo tumbas quedaron.

R.A.Pastor

Colibries de cresta amarilla

Era una tarde como estas, hace ya mucho tiempo. La delicada lluvia aderezaba el ambiente tan solo con un roce en los arboles creaba diminutos espejos que tomaban la forma de diminutos diamantes. El olor a tierra mojada aromatizaba cada espacio de mi hogar. No era una tarde cualquiera, no era un día como cualquier otro.

Mi corazón no se encontraba solo aquel día. Junto a mi estaba el amor de mi vida, aquella alma que se asemejaba tanto a la mía y a la misma vez permanecíamos siendo personas diferentes. Ese pedacito de perfección que tan solo complementaba mi ser, ese individuo que me conoce como nadie más lo ha hecho. Con el poder de predecir mis respuestas, entender mis silencios y comprender hasta el último pedazo de mi locura.

Esa tarde tan solo estábamos ella y yo. Dos pedazos de la misma alma separadas hace siglos se reúnen en un momento donde la pasión y el amor se funden para crear un sentimiento sin nombre. Dos amantes recostados en una cama tan solo fusionando sus cuerpos. El erotismo brotaba por sus desnudos cuerpos, tan solo sus bocas encontrándose en un ferviente beso, explorando sus cuerpos con tan solo la punta de sus labios.

El ambiente fuera de ese dormitorio era tan gélido, mientras que adentro la atmosfera que los rodeaba se volvía cada vez más densa. Aquellos suspiros y gemidos calentaban el aire que nos rodeaba. El contacto de nuestras pieles era lo único necesario para mantenernos privados del frio. Conforme avanzo la tarde, aquella llovizna emigro a otras tierras y pronto aquel frio que adornaba el ambiente se fue disipando.

Aquellos amantes se encontraban envueltos uno en el otro, tan solo enlazados mirando por la ventana. Contemplando aquel panorama que la lluvia nos había dejado. El dulce olor del rocío se propagaba por el lugar y jugaba con nuestras cavidades nasales. El tiempo se detuvo, o por lo menos no pareció importar. Tan solo importaban aquellas dos almas admirando aquellos pájaros que se posaban en los arboles para buscar su comida. Lo único relevante en ese lapso de tiempo discontinuo eran aquellos amantes, unidos en un lazo casi perfecto admirando el aleteo de aquel colibrí de cresta amarilla.

R.A.Pastor

Cattle Mutilation

It's part of evolution, part of life. To create we have to destroy, and as we destroy we open paths to create more. It's part of evolution. Because life dictates it that way. How many ecosystems have we destroyed to create the great concrete jungle we life in? How many lives have we taken to nurture the confort style of living we have? Humans take the main source of protein from living beast. We tame them into becoming our food. Such an irrespect for life has brought us to this point. We extinguish animals to feed out our necesity to keep our status quo on the almighty food chain. We mutilate animals so people can feed themselves. There's going to be a point in time when those animals won't be enough to fulfill to feed all those hungry families around the world. Soon enough people will be forced to take those proteins from another source. It's just a matter of time for people to start killing each other to fill that carnivore necessity. All for what reason? So we can stay the alpha males of this world. Like I said before, to create more we have to destroy, it's even a natural rule. The muscles that surround our skeletons are guided by that rule. To pump our bodies into perfection we have to summit them to a process of destruction, wear them down to the point of self regeneration. The more we destroy them, the more they grow. We have to render them down to the point of exaustion so we can achieve that body we all crave the most. Society has made this. What society says, society gets. Human kind has the inborn ability to keep up with the pace of self damaging itself. As much as I hate to say it, human kind are masoquist from the day they were born. We can take so much shit from everybody, including ourselves. We starve to death to get to that thin body the industry dictates. We put ourselves through misery to achieve the happiness they say. Being fat is just unacceptable by the rules of this world. Magazines, television, every source of media tells us that we cannot be happy unless we fit into that mold they present. And we as dumb idiots we are, we believe them. If some journalist says that happiness can only be achieved by having sex while we estrangulate ourselves, it becomes a trend. People all around the world would start to do it just because some paper article says it. It doesn't matter if you die in the process, at least you die happy. Dumbasses. That's why they have so much power, because if you write in a fashion magazine a crazy idea, crazy people will follow it. Humanity is at the verge of being being controlled by writers. The famous phrase is right. A sword can be beaten by a pen. Doesn't matter how much you fight against it, the masses will have a greater power than a single individual. You can die fighting for the rights of those poor animals we kill, and as long people eat their meat it will all be worthless. You can change the way of thinking of some individuals, but the masses will always have the power. Because some idiot decided that the big decisions in life should be taken by the mayority. He never thought that those masses would take the right decision; all he thought was to please everybody and to save the necks of those who made the decisions. You cannot kill everybody who votes for a dumb idea, the guilliotine would be packed with idiots. To relief that pressure from the governors, they decided to give that almost allmighty power to stupid herds. The same regimen is applied since centuries. Those people who make the call are the same that have made this place the thing it is. Same stupid way of thinking, passed by generations. Unfortunately things won't change until we reach that extreme point in life. We will still destroy to create until there's nothing left to destroy. Humanity has doomed itself to perish, and nothing you say or I say will change it. That's the awful truth that surrounds us. We, the minority, will always have to deal with the consecuenses of the stupid actions that the mayority says.

R.A.Pastor

Part One: Kaiser

One night, just as I started dreaming, I see a street but it’s nothing like the ones we have right now, it’s more like 1920’s kind of street with graveled floor, there was no electricity so it was a candle-lit panorama. But I couldn’t see much beyond a block, there was a dense fog covering the air. All I could see was a dark silhouette down the street. And it was coming towards me. The details began to come clear as he approached me. It was a man in a black trench coat, with a confident walk, emanating swagger with every step he made. He was dressed as a mafia capo with a black and silver pinstriped three piece suit, a red tie and a top hat. He had his hands in his pockets. Even though he was looking up I couldn’t see his face clearly. I was out of place didn’t know where, when or how I even got there, and with more reason I couldn’t guess who he was. –Andres– he yelled with a powerful deep confident voice, I don’t know how he knew what my name was. –Don’t worry, I know you better than you can imagine, even though you don’t know me at all– he continued –My name is Kaiser, I am one of the seven you released. We are part of you. They call me the champion.– He said with a peace and security, he knew I was afraid and he tried to call me down. –Where am I?– I asked still confused. –This is a part of your soul, each seven of us have a different place where we live. The surrounding represents what we are– he replied –Each time you meet one of us the place and time will change, just don’t worry about it– he said with a smile. – I am a part of you like I said before; I am the one who accomplished everything he set his mind into. I can help you with courage and confidence. All you need is to trust me, listen to my voice – he said looking into my eyes, that was the first time I could see his face, it was like looking into a mirror. He was just like me. No, he was me. –We all look like you– he said, it was like he knew what was happening in my mind. – Don’t be afraid when you meet each one of us, we cannot harm you. We are the reflection of your soul; we are what really is hidden inside of you– He placed his hand in my shoulder and just said as he smiled –You have to get back to reality, remember seize the day– That’s when I woke up. Back in my room. Like nothing happened… right?

R.A.Pastor

Part Two: Pollito

Was it another crazy dream or it was truly a place within my soul? Will it happen again? I doubted everything, my mind puzzled and puzzled until he couldn’t do it anymore and surrendered to sleep. It happened again, second time in the week. But the place was different like Kaiser said. This place reminded me to the ancient Greece, a beautiful garden with stone pillars surrounding it, beautiful exotic flowers in every place I can put my sight on. There was also a big round fountain in the middle with a man sitting there, all I could see was his back, he had his hand raised with some seeds on his palm. There were birds all around him, it seems he was feeding them –Oh look, you arrived, I’m sorry I didn’t noticed you before– he said as he stood up and turned around while he was waving the birds goodbye. –Good evening! My name is Pollito– he said politely. Pollito? It sounded so familiar in my head but I couldn’t place it well. –That’s the nickname your first love gave you when you were together– said as he approached me. He was dressed with a big long white toga and an olive leaves type of crown. What really shocked me was that his toga was blood-stained, a huge stain coming of his chest, and he had the same wristbands as I do. That’s when I realized who he represented. –You are love right? – I asked directly. –Correct– he said with that cool loving voice. – I represent your love story, with all the highs and lows; I am the lust, the love and indifference that dwells in you. – He hugged me and started to cry. –I know what you’ve been through and I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything– he whispered softly in my ear. I could notice the kindness coming from the broken heart. –Next time I’ll help you… I promise– He uttered. Then he pulled back, wiped his tears with his bare hand, he smiled and said –Come walk with me, I’m going to show you this place– He guided me through this almost perfect garden, colors, textures and shapes of every kind. But through the entire garden there were big patches with withered flowers and dry soil. –You’ve noticed those patches right? Those represent all the times you were heart-broken– There were five patches, ones bigger than others. –This garden represents your heart and as long there’s life in this place you will be able to love and be loved. Those dead patches can regenerate but it takes too much time. Just don’t worry about them, I will take care of them– He looked at me and ended with – Do not fear to love, do not fear to get hurt. It’s part of life and that’s how we grow up– As soon as he ended, everything began to get blurry and I woke up with the sound of the alarm clock. It’s another day to live.

R.A.Pastor

Part Three: Toon Liger

It has been a week since those appearances in my dreams. Studies had kept me busy all this nights, some of them I did not sleep at all; and when I did all I could do was rest my exhausted body. I can only hope that tonight something happens. It seems that my wishes were answered because as soon as I close my eyes I was transported to a different place. This time I’m inside a rainy forest with big trees surrounding me. A peaceful quiet place, all I could hear was the soothing sound of the wind clashing into the leaves. The perfect combination of colors made it a magical place. All of the sudden, a mesmerizing melody begins to overpower the silence, I knew that melody. Somehow I recalled the notes going down, right and left. It was the song that belongs to the forest. I walked and walked until I could find the source of the music. That’s when I saw one man in a branch of a big tree; he was playing a wooden ocarina –You are late– he said as he jumped down from the tree. He was almost naked. He was wearing a little piece of brown cloth around his waist line, and his body was covered with a big brown bear fur, with the head of the animal on top of his and the fangs almost covering his eyes, also he had the paws around his hands almost like using them as gloves. –My name is Toon Liger, I am the part of you that represents the magic– he continued saying. –Magic? – I asked with a confused expression. I always thought that magic wasn’t real, a creation of my imagination. –I’m not talking about that kind of magic– he said – I’m talking about the magic of your mind, the different way to look at the world. The music, the art, the way you talk and the way you behave. They’re all part of how you express the magic within you. That magic is unique and it’s like your own signature of life– he explained. –So this forest is like the place in my soul where all my personality is represented? – I asked. –You are not as stupid as I thought you were– he said demonstrating the same sarcasm that I use. –Of course it is… The majority of your most crazy and stupid ideas are born here. You must feel very lucky– he remarked –Not all the people have a place like this inside of them, and the few people who have it is not as big and beautiful as yours– As soon as he ended the statement he turned around and said –Begone! Go to reality. Don’t be ashamed of your magic, and use it the times you want. – I woke up with a big smile on my face. It’s not called insanity anymore. Now is magic.

R.A.Pastor

Part Four: Thanatos

Today wasn’t my favorite day, as a matter of fact, I hated it. I spent all my day fighting with everybody, one after another it kept getting worse and worse and by the end of the day all I wanted was to escape away from here. To go some place with that beautiful landscape inside my soul. I closed my eyes and let my soul take over my body. Such an ethereal feeling. I find myself outside this dark room. There are steel enforced bars like it was some type of prison, with only one window also with bars. The moon was the only source of light and as it entered the room it made a white silhouette. There was a man inside, a man with a black robe covering all his body. He was suspended in the air like he was levitating. –Go away– he said with the most powerful voice I’ve ever heard in my life. As soon as he finished I saw some movements with his hands, like he was doing some sort of hand seals. –Ne, Tora, Inu, Ushi, U, Tora– he whispered. All of the sudden he inspired some of the surrounding air and started to breath fire from his mouth, he created a fire circle around him, but the flames next to him didn’t seem to harm him. The walls started shaking and big spiked chains began to come out of the concrete walls. Those chains trapped every part of him and restrained him so he couldn’t move anymore. – Who are you? – I said trying to conceal the fear within me. – I am Thanatos. I am the death. I am the hate, the powerful hate that lives inside of you– he said and you could tell the hate emanating from his pores. –And why are you restrained? – I kept asking – The other ones consider me the stronger one and they had the impulse to chain me as soon as I go berserk, when I am in this state I am capable of anything, even killing everybody around me, including you. – He stated while stared at me with those blood-shot eyes. –If I lend you some of my power you can do whatever you want, I can silence all those people that hurt you– he continued. I had to admit it sounded so tempting. All the power I needed to ease my disturbed mind. But what if that much power was impossible to control? What if anger made me go blind? –Release me! – He screamed with all the power in his lungs. I stepped back. Even though the others told me not to be afraid, I was. Not because he had the power to kill me, it was because there was such a dark power inside of me. So much fear, the only thing I could do was start to run without looking back. I started running until I woke up. His laughter still haunts me.

R.A.Pastor

Part Five: Musterion

Ever since that night I stopped wishing to go there. I didn’t want to find out anymore what I really am, I wanted to ignore those voices and ignore what is hidden in my soul. I guess I don’t have a choice; it doesn’t happen because I wanted to. It happens because it’s part of my destiny. I don’t want to close my eyes; I’m fighting the urge of resting my weary body. The hope was replaced with fear. I fight and fight until my strength is drained out. My body surrenders and I feel like I’ve lost. I’m inside this old building, there are like blue fireballs dancing across the room. But they’re not regular blue balls; they had big eyes and mouths. It reminded me of Japanese mythology, they were lost souls. I try to walk to explore this place and I find myself inside a straitjacket. I realize what this building was. I was in an asylum, a psychiatric hospital. I tried to release myself but didn’t succeed. Voices started to yell –He’s trying to escape. Send him to the room– Some man grabbed me from the back and they cuffed me to a gurney. It happened so fast I couldn’t react. They transported me to a closed room. There was some white padding on the walls and the floor. It was an isolation room. It was the first time there was someone else inside my soul besides one of the seven. Thinking about it I haven’t seen the one who belonged here. Maybe this was all a dream, a crazy delusional dream. –You know it’s not a dream – he said. I tried to look around to see who talked to me, but it was hard because of the way I was restrained. I saw this man in the same situation as me, in the isolation room with a straitjacket just laying there. – I am Musterion – he said with a strange voice. –I am the mystery. I am the representation of what people don’t know about you, also I represent the way people see you. That’s why I’m inside here. People consider you crazy, a different weird guy that nobody understands and they prefer to push aside instead of getting to know you. I am the product of loneliness and resentment– he said as he placed an evil grin on his face. –They don’t know me; they push me aside because they know I am a thread to them. One of these days I’m going to get out of this place and prove all those bastards what they were missing all this years– he said as he started laughing with this malevolent crazy laugh. Instantly I thought this guy is out of his mind, but my brain went a little further, it have connected the dots and placed the solution so fast. It was adding one plus one. This guy was a part of me. Am I also out of my fucking mind? –Yes– he said – We are out of our fucking mind, in the most wonderful way that it can be. We are called crazy because we see the real beauty of the world. People don’t fully understand us. But it’s ok. Is their loss not ours– He smiled and I smiled with him. I understood him. I don’t have to worry about what people say. I am this way and nobody can change me. – Goodbye, farewell– he last said. I woke up with my arms around me. I was hugging myself.

R.A.Pastor

Part Six: Panzer

It was a day like any other. Same shit: different day. Studies and work has kept me busy all day long. The same problems in my life, parents bitching about everything. It was a routine and it began to wear me out. The only difference from yesterday was this crimson tainted sunset, one of the most beautiful twilight scenes I’ve ever seen. I didn’t wanted to sleep because I knew another boring day would come afterwards. Like always my body couldn’t take it anymore. I opened my eyes and I was floating in this white limbo. There was nothing around me. –Nice… I have a blank space inside of me– I said remarking the heavy sarcasm. All of the sudden a huge pair of eyes appeared in front of me, they were three times my size. A voice started saying –You want me to change the scene? – Every white space started to get filled, I now find myself in a war zone. Machines roaring, people screaming, bullets piercing everything and explosions wherever I can put my sight on. – You like that or should I change it? – the voice said, my surroundings changed once again, it was this middle age castle with a guy in green clothes, he was holding a sword and a shield with his hands. –You know what? Let’s go to my place– He said once more and the panorama changed one more time. This time it was like being inside of the internet. Numbers and data flying by next to me. Then he appeared, it was a man inside this machine from his waist down, they were something like cybernetic legs. He was naked and all over his body he had like a type of piercings, black rods embedded on his skin. –Hello there, my name is Panzer and I am the game. – He said with a calmed voice. –This place is like no other, the surroundings here keeps changing, is an expression of all those unreal places you’ve seen– He opened his arms like trying to show the place around. –So this place is like those worlds I’ve imagined to escape from reality? – I asked with my usual confused expression. –Yeah, all those places you’ve seen on games and television are here. This is your sweet escape. I am the gamer who lives inside those places; I adapt to situations and do the best of it. – I was confused, if there’s a place like this inside my soul what can I do with it in real life? I’ve always had tendencies to run away from everything but I cannot live forever inside of my mind. –The point of here is not to immerse yourself in this world, the point is to relief some pressure from the everyday basis. You can utilize what you learn here in real life– he stated –You’ve met six of us. The worst part is over. But the next time you will need so much will power, the next one will make a huge impact on your soul. He is not like us. We will all be wishing the best for you. You are going to need it. May the force be with you young one. – And like the other past times I find myself at my room all alone. I cannot wait to meet the last one. There are nerves, anxiousness but most of all courage. I will finally know what is really inside of me. I’m going to know who I really am.

R.A.Pastor

Part Seven: Andy

I remember the day very well; it was a Saturday just in the middle of the month. I had classes on the morning, woke up early so I could get on time. In fact I didn’t, I overslept. I had spent all night studying the class I was going to take the next day. But what good comes from studying all night for a class you are going to miss? As a matter of fact, I was late to the class and all the studies where useless. The teacher had a problem and was a mix up with schedule so we ended up seeing something different from what was planned. Four straight hours of classes are not entertaining at all. I found myself sitting in the classroom without paying any attention, holding in my hand my watch so I could know when the time to run away from this place was. I felt like the clock was ticking slower than before. It felt like the time was paralyzed, even though objects were moving time didn’t. One minute felt like fifteen. Eternity was the only word I was writing on my notebook. Over and over again. A blank page began to lose its space, letters and words kept on subtracting the room available. The class ended like all the time, people walking out like zombies, just wanting to get away from this place as fast as they could. When I got home it was the same feeling, nobody was there. I was alone in my house, just lying on the floor watching the ceiling; I had nothing else to do with my life. My muscles began to relax and my spine just accommodated to the flat shape of the white ceramic tiles. The noises began to fade out and a powerful numbness took over my whole body. My other senses were blocked and I felt like I was paralyzed. My vision started to wear out, my peripheral vision became pitch-dark. Without doing anything about this feeling, couldn’t fight it and just go with the flow of this ethereal and surreal sensation. The ceiling began to get farther and farther. It seemed like the room was expanding, it felt like the room was running away from me. My vision started to close down. The sensations began to come back to my skin. I felt like I was on a shallow pool, surrounded by water. It wasn’t enough to cover my whole body, or maybe I was floating in the water. The noise of the water moving softly was very soothing, much like a trance I felt myself immersed. I opened my eyes and found myself in this dark room, still looking at the ceiling, a black ceiling with the reflection of the light when it hits the water, that rippled pattern much like the auroras in the northern lights. This wasn’t reality, and I knew it was not a dream, almost certain of it. I got up forming waves in the water, the pattern on the ceiling changed. It felt like a Déjà vu. I’ve been here before; this place was familiar to me. It was the same large corridor, same big room with tall walls with blood writings. I came back to the place where it all began. The same place I released the eight seal trigrams and unleashed the seven of them. It was the time Panzer talked about; I’ve met six of them and now is the time to finalize this journey. I walked the corridor with the same cautiousness as the first time. I enter the room with the gate; it was open from side to side. It was the evidence of what I’ve did before. The evidence that this odyssey was not a product of my mind, it did happen. Something inside of my body tells me to step inside, to go beyond that big metal gate. It was a small room compared to the ones I’ve past. There was no source of light in this room. All of the sudden a small television turns on. It seemed like it was muted, because I could see the frames but there was no sound at all. To my surprise in front of the television there was a little boy. A child just sitting there watching. He didn’t move at all, he was in some sort of fetal position. My only guess was that he was the one left. –Hello there! – I said trying to capture his attention but was worthless, he did not move at all, not a single muscle on his body reacted to my voice. As I became closer and closer the frames on the television became crystal clear. It was some sort of movie. The genre was very difficult to determine. Some parts seemed like an action movie and others seemed a romantic comedy. A whole vast range of pictures, live motion, cartoons, virtual reality; that movie contained a little portion of every type of storytelling that have ever existed. It began to lure me into it; the curiosity of knowing what it was all about dragged me towards it. I sit next to this boy, almost in the same position as he was; I could finally understand what the movie was about. It was about me, the whole cinematic presentation was about my life. A compilation of my experiences through this wild ride we call life. –Sorry, but my mom taught me not to talk to strangers. – The little boy said with this timid shy low voice. –Don’t worry I’m not a stranger, my name is Andres. Can I watch some television with you? – I answered trying to create a bond with the kid. – Yeah no problem– he said smiling – Andres? Hey that is also my name! But nobody calls me like that, is too grown up for me. Everybody in my family call me Andy. – I couldn’t believe it. The seventh one was me. He was me when I was a little kid. – Do you want to be my friend? – he asked while his voice was trying to hold something down – I don’t have any friends, they are all outside playing and I cannot go. Mom tells me I’m sick and I cannot go with them, so I have to stay here. The only thing fun to do is to watch television. And because mom and dad are working I get lonely in the afternoon. Do you really want to be my friend? – He said while dropping his sight to the floor as he told his story. – Yeah! Of course I want to be your friend. I think we have so much in common– I said trying to lift up his feelings – I also like watching television, and movies. I like to play videogames and listen to music– As soon as I said those words he turned his head towards me and you could see how his eyes began to shine. – I also like all those stuff! My dream is to one day become this huge known doctor, and be able to cure all those children who have the same illness that I have. I want to give them what I have missed. – I was right. He was me in a much pure and fragile version. He represented my true being. He was not corrupted and tainted by everything outside of that room, he never had betraying friends, or heart-breakings by girls, not even the pressure of parents going through divorce. He was what I’ve lost in the way of life. –Do you think I’m weird? – Andy asked –Why do you say that? I don’t think you are weird at all– I replied – All my friends have called me weird and told me that they don’t want to be friends with me anymore. I’m not very popular as the other kids; I never go out so it’s difficult for me to keep my friends. – He said while turning his head to face the screen once again. – I don’t want to be lonely anymore. – That’s when I realized why the other six said it was going to be the hardest one yet. I had to face myself in the most pure way possible and realize I am alone and feeling lonely. It created a huge psychological shock for me to accept the fact that the most genuine expression of my life in this world is loneliness. –Are you ok? Do you want a hug? Because that’s what friends do you know, they help each other during hard times– he said with this full of love voice. Even though he was hurt from all of his friends, he knew what true friendship means and the sacrifices are worth everything if they are done for a true friend. I didn’t know but the tears started to flow and race through my cheeks. I usually don’t cry. I try to place a façade so nobody could see me on that vulnerable state. But this time it was different, I didn’t have the necessity of hiding my true emotions with someone like him. –Mom have always told me to never cry when there’s somebody around– he said – but how can the other people notice if you are sad if you don’t give them the chance to guess it? How can they help you be happy if you don’t let them know? – He was right, after all this years of trying to hide my emotions from people; I didn’t have any help because they didn’t knew I was suffering. – You know, mom and dad are going to be mad at me if they knew I let someone in the house– he said with this fearful voice. I hugged him, as hard as I could. Gave him a kiss on the top of his head and said – I love you! Don’t worry about it now, in the future you are going to accomplish all those dreams you have, and you are going to have lots of friends, and even though things can get hard you are going to be strong enough to endure them. – As soon as I ended I walked out of that room, still thinking about those words I’ve said. Those were the words that I always wanted to hear while I was going through a hard time; every time I felt lonely all I wanted was a kiss and a hug. If he was truly me, then I knew I did the right thing to do. I wake up in the floor of my bedroom, in the same position as I was hours ago. I look at the watch to see how many time to study I have left and realize it was the same hour as when I went there. Time froze still as I went to the deepest place in my soul. Now I know what is inside of me. Now I truly know who I am…

R.A.Pastor

Seven Deadly Sinners

Can you hear them? It's a slow rather quiet whisper. Can you hear them? They are screaming inside my head? Am I the only one who can hear them? They know my name, what I do and what i feel. They tell me everything it's going to be ok, all I need to do is trust them. All I have to do is release the seal in my stomach, so those gates can open up again. In this state is easier to trust something coming from within rather than to trust somebody else. So I do it, i release the eight trigrams seal and suddenly everything begins to fade into this pitch-black area. I find myself in a big room, tall walls with writtings on it, but its not normal handwriting its more like ritual signs. They were done with blood, and somehow i know that is my own blood. Its a large corridor with barely any source of light, there's water up to my ankles and on the roof there's just two lights, intermittent and continuously pausing. I find myself walking through this corridor just to see a big metal gate. In the gate there's a small tag just place in between the doors, and somehow restraining it so it cannot open. On the tag there's just a kanji, it says seal. The voices start talking again, with much order than before, one by one, they begin to quote their reasons why to remove the tag. A gentle lovely voice started. - If you remove it, I can give you all you need to have women drooling for you. The charm, the poise, all you lack I can give it to you- Then he was interrupted by a much rather secure voice, almost overstepping the limit of selfconfidence. - If you release me I can make you a champion, the winner of everything, to be the best of them all, isnt that what you really desire? -I can free you from all your pain, I can acomplish all the vengeance you truly desire, I can give you peace. The seven of us can.- A much darker voice just whispered, like he was over my shoulder saying quiet things to my ear. They had a point, they could give me everything I wanted. What I needed. A few steps and everything will be done. I slowly remove the tag, but nothing happens... The gate hasnt moved at all, like frozen still. Suddenly I feel a strange force that pushes me and throws me back. The gates open with a furiously slam. There's haze invading the air, the ambience becomes pretty dense like the atmosphere starts to get heavy, the pressure is really strong and I cannot move an inch of my body. And a quiet voice just says with a shy undertone - You just opened Pandora's box...- I couldn't breath, the pressure was too intense, like feeling an elephant stomping my chest. Everything just starts to fade to black. Lack of air, hipoxia, call it how you wish, all I know is that it made me pass out. Inconscious on that blood-tainted water. I feel how the pressure is taken away and I can breathe again. As I open my eyes I find myself in my room again, everything is the same as before. Was it a nightmare? Was it a dream? I don't know what really happened.
- It was real, and the worst is yet to come - He said.

R.A.Pastor

La cordura nos hizo ciegos

Cual es el precio de ser normal en este mundo, de poder encajar en los circulos sociales y de ser aceptados por las demas personas? Muchas veces esto significa convertirnos en uno mas del monton, sacrificar nuestro idealismo para convertirnos en un zombie mas caminando por las calles con ropa a la moda y musica cool. Durante los milenios que lleva el ser humano en la tierra, siempre se ha impuesto la fabulosa idea de democracia, para aquellos que viven bajo una roca y no saben lo que significa se los resumo en pocas palabras. Democracia es el hecho de darle el poder a la mayoria, sin importar si es la eleccion correcta o lo mas inteligente que hacer. Por desgracia en una sociedad como esta, la mayoria nunca tiene la razon, aceptan cualquier argumento estupido de un tipo con saco y corbata mientras sonrie y besa a bebes en la frente. Entonces en una manera muy generalizada se puede decir que democracia es el voto del pueblo, y si el pueblo tiene un voto estupido, y estupido es el que estupideces hace, ergo, la democracia es la voz de la estupidez. Corrijanme si me equivoco pero la mayoria la decisiones hechas no son siempre las mejores, como Bush. Dos veces. Claro que el es el genio mas idiota que el mundo ha conocido. Tambien esta la discriminacion de los derechos humanos hacia el matrimonio gay y la union entre gobierno y religion. Pero en realidad ese es tema de otro dia, si es que alguna vez me da la gana. A lo que queria llegar es que la sociedad son un grupo de ciegos que no saben donde estan sus pies. Y nosotros queremos sacrificar nuestra individualidad por ser parte de ellos? Ahora que lo pienso suena mas estupido lo que nosotros hacemos. La cordura nos hizo ciegos. Perdimos nuestra vista al rendir nuestra locura. Dejamos de ver los colores del arcoiris en los ojos de cada persona para sencillamente ver ojos blancos y negros. De pronto aquella musica que nos acompanaba en cada accion de nuestra vida, el tema musical de nuestras aventuras fantasticas desaparecen. Aquellos solos de guitarra poco a poco se silencian para convertirse en un triste sonido de reggaeton y el doble pedal baja su intensidad hasta casi desaparecer. Nos volvemos una marioneta mas de este mundo tan retorcido. Porque no nos pueden aceptar asi como somos? No valemos mas como individuos que como una horda de salvajes? Me reuso a intercambiar mi locura intermitente por aceptacion. Me reuso a cambiar mi retorcida felicidad por un poco de gente que me va a lastimar. Y lo mas importante, me reuso a cambiar mi forma de ser para terminar siendo un desconocido mas.

R.A.Pastor

They're back

I thought i was recovering from my dark past, but soon I realize that every step foward i make, i end up stepping two steps back. It's been weeks since I can manage to rest my body without any worries. I cannot sleep, I cannot dream. My soul is wearing thin on that aspect. It has been days without my nightmares. Grim and gore nightmares of my killing the ones I love the most. Picking a knife and simply slashing her throat while she screams in despair, just going berserk and kill everybody, love and hate, it doesnt matter to my assassination rampage. My nightmares. They're back. I wake up with the feeling of blood dripping from my hands, the sting from the defensive wounds, and some blood-shot eyes. Those hitokiri eyes just wanting more and more. And as soon as I became conscious, they start to talk to me. Those voices in my head tell me to make my dreams a reality, all seven of them tell me to kill her. All I wanted to do is protect them, protect the ones I love no matter how much pain it would cost me. How can I do that with my inner me wanting to kill them? That's why they call it the self-loving demon. It cannot love someone else rather than himself. Because wherever there's love there is hate, hate breeds to pain and suffering is born. Its a fine line between love and hate, a blood-tainted fine line that defines what we really are. A fine fragile line that in a matter of seconds it can shatter into pieces. Turn love into hate. They are still talking to me. Make them stop!! I dont want to hate, I dont want to be alone in this world, I dont want to be left out. I want them to choose me. Nobody but myself can really understand whats happening inside my head. Even I cannot understand whats happening. I want them to stop talking. I want the nightmares to go away. But no... they're back.

R.A.Pastor

Osmosis y difusion

Se supone que empece a escribir para poder expresar mis sentimientos, para desahogar las penas que consumian mi alma, pero que sucede cuando ya no hay ningun sentimiento ahi? Que debo de escribir cuando no existe algun afecto que evoque un fuego dentro de mi ser? Sera que me estare volviendo insensible a todos aquellos estimulos? Creo que tanto dolor que he sufrido desde aquel 14 que poco a poco me he retraido dentro de una burbuja para evitar todos aquellos estimulos que causaban dolor, hasta llegar al punto en que me encuentro flotando en un mar abierto, sin mareas ni corrientes, no hay olas ni movimientos. Tan solo estoy flotando dentro de mi consciencia, estoy en un cuarto con paredes blancas, sin ventanas ni muebles, tan solo estoy yo y yo. El cuarto esta lleno hasta la mitad de agua, hasta donde yo puedo apreciar, es un agua cristalina y transparente. De pronto, mi cuerpo empieza a provocar una infusion de colores al agua, colores tenues invaden el agua. Tonalidades diferentes del mismo color, como si mi alma se estuviera diluyendo dentro del liquido. El mismo efecto producido al colocar tan solo una gota de colorante a un medio incoloro. Tan simple como colocar una bolsa de te en una taza con agua caliente y a la vez tan complicada como la gama de sabores que esta pequena bolsa aporta a su medio de flujo. Un balance perfecto entre osmosis y difusion. Mientras el medio se llena de mi alma, esta se llena del medio. En un lugar en mi inconsciente existe un lugar donde floto, no tengo rumbo ni paradero. No me interesa el ir o el venir, tampoco me interesa en donde me encuentro. Floto para ahorrar mis energias, tan solo esperar en las aguas calmadas. Esperar a la proxima tormenta, para poder nadar por mi sobrevivencia, pelear por mi vida. Tan solo estoy en un cuarto cerrado conviviendo con mi medio.

R.A.Pastor

Eternidad?

Desde los principios del tiempo grandes preguntas se han formulado, preguntas que nadie ha podido contestar. Existe Dios? Como se creo el universo? Que fue primero el huevo o la gallina? Pero ninguna de estas evoca un sentimiento tan poderoso como la siguiente pregunta, las anteriores solo se convierten en curiosidades, pequenas piedras en el zapato del hombre que tan solo quiere responderlas para saciar su ego y no sentirse un ignorante. Existe la vida despues de la muerte? Trascendemos a un plano superior o tan solo nos convertimos en polvo para continuar el ciclo de la vida? Realmente esta pregunta es la que los humanos temen mas, no solo por la simple curiosidad o la necesidad de sellar un agujero que ha prevalecido desde hace mucho tiempo, sino que le da el significado a toda su vida. En realidad solo hay dos respuestas, si o no, pero el poder que conlleva cada una de ellas es tan poderoso, significa trascender la vida misma como la conocemos; y va mas alla de las diferencias de sexo, religion, credo, etnia o color favorito, trasciende la barrera de la muerte. La simple idea se define por profanar todas aquellas almas que perecieron, restarles su significado. Los seres humanos tenemos la necesidad de creer en la vida despues de la muerte, en donde nos van a juzgar por nuestros actos en la tierra, donde por la suma de nuestras acciones sera determinado nuestro futuro, si somos buenos vamos al cielo, si somos malos vamos al infierno, y otro sin fin de teorias alocadas que tan solo estan para inventar un significado donde no lo existe. Si es asi, todo lo que hagamos en la tierra es completamente insignificante comparado a la eternidad, no importa si contamos calorias o decidimos viajar en bicicleta para evitar la contaminacion, mucho menos si callamos o hablamos. Si lo planteamos desde este punto de vista, todo es tan efimero e insignificante, procedemos a convertir la importancia del mismo vasto universo a la de un insecto que se arrastra por el piso. Al final de la batalla, nuestra vida se convierte en una balanza, sumando y restandole nuestras acciones, comparando que es bueno y que es malo y con respecto a esto asi sera nuestro destino y tan solo por una accion esta balanza se inclina, ya sea matar a alguien por venganza o robar una menta, una simple accion puede mandarte al infierno. Por eso es que las personas se obsecionan con hacer el bien, no tanto porque se ayuda al projimo y a la comunidad al hacer buenas obras, sino que tratan de contrarestar todo lo malo que cometen, como dice aquel dicho, "El que peca y reza; empata." Pero que sucede si no existe la eternidad, si tan solo nos convertimos en polvo inservible? Tantas personas enganadas, tantas iglesias predicando sobre el arrepentimiento y sobre hacer lo bueno para que? Para terminar bajo tierra, convirtiendonos tan solo viviendo por el recuerdo de los demas? Personas tratando de equilibrar sus balanzas para algo que simplemente no existe, tornan su vida con respecto a un futuro sin vivir el presente, sin darse cuenta de que es lo unico que van a obtener. Como dije, la misma pregunta le da el significado a nuestra vida, le otorga completa relevancia a lo que realizamos dia con dia, o se la despoja integramente. Sin saber esto, robar una menta puede significar un pase al infierno, un brote de adrenalina por hacer lo incorrecto, o tan solo robar una menta. El problema de estas paradojas sin respuesta es que formamos una obsesion alrededor de ellas, y olvidamos que solo son un conjunto de palabras, una oracion con un signo de puntuacion gracioso. El futuro es futuro por alguna razon, desconocido para algunos, pero el secreto a todo esto es vivir un dia a la vez, arriezgar todo por ese momento especial y magico, aquel que viene una vez en la vida. El futuro es impredecible y eso es lo que nuestro Federico pronto se dara cuenta...

R.A.Pastor

La ignorancia es una bendicion...

Cuantos no han escuchado el dicho que tanto usan nuestras abuelas, "Lo que el corazon no sabe, no le lastima." Uno cree que sabe lo que significa, pero en realidad hay mas complejidad en estas palabras sabias. Hoy mientras esperaba mi transporte para volver a mi casa, un senor se sento junto a mi a esperar el bus, pero no era una persona comun y corriente, era un ciego armado solo con un baston blanco y un paraguas, con esto se protegia de la adversidad y sobrevivir un dia mas. Era una tarde donde las gotas de agua caian torrencialmente, y en una calle tan transitada como el Paseo Colon, no era como el mejor panorama para cualquier persona, pero sin embargo, el ciego estaba sonriendo, apesar de estar completamente empapado con lluvia, la punta de su baston dejo de ser roja y paso a ser cafe por la cantidad de lodo y tierra que estaba en el suelo, sus pantalones no eran la excepcion, sus zapatos negros de cuero eran un reservorio de agua que no encontraron su trayecto hacia la tierra y a cada momento que el movia sus pies salian gotas de sus zapatos. Apesar de todo esto, el mantenia una sonrisa de oreja a oreja. Un transeunte se junto a nosotros y al sentarse solo dijo -Que dia mas feo- y el ciego no tuvo la necesidad de voltearse para responderle, el solo contesto - Hoy es un dia precioso, estamos vivos y por lo menos esta lloviendo, en otros paises no llueve en meses- El transeunte solo se quedo callado, y miraba al ciego con una expresion de incredulidad, como si quisiera insultarlo con su mirada. Lo entiendo, el panorama no era nada inspirador, mucho menos alegre. Pero a la vez, las palabras del ciego llenaron la parte trasera de mi cabeza y poco a poco fueron invadiendo mis pensamientos. El tenia razon, era un dia precioso, tan solo que razones tan mundanas como lo que admiramos dia a dia le van restando la magia a ese dia. Para todos aquellos que vivimos en la zona metropolitana, estamos acostumbrados a ver vehiculos a nuestro alrededor, y muchas veces edificios bloquean el paisaje de las montanas que nos rodean y nos protegen. Es tanta la costumbre que llega el punto en que en vez de costumbre el sentimiento se convierte en repudio. Pero para las personas que no ven esto no tienen motivos para desanimarse. Suena un poco estupido, pero en ese momento le tenia envidia al ciego, de no poder ver todo aquello que estropeaba el dia. El no saber que pasa con el mundo, uno no se preocupa por derrames de petroleo en el mar, ni de adolescentes que asesinan a sus directoras, o de cosas tan efimeras como miedo a las personas que tienen un aspecto sospechoso o de como me vere el dia de hoy. Sinceramente es una carga menos en sus hombros, una carga que la misma sociedad nos impone. Yo le pregunte si era feliz siendo ciego, que si no preferiria ver lo que sucedia a su alrededor, y simplemente me contesto con una sonrisa diciendome - No hace falta, naci de esta manera y no necesito ver con mis ojos para saber lo que hay alrededor mio, aunque mi vida no es como la de los demas, no le cambiaria nada porque asi soy feliz- Sus palabras me tocaron el corazon, por mucho tiempo he querido cambiar muchas cosas de mi mismo sin percatarme que la vida es como es y solo hay que sacar lo mejor de ella. En realidad el ignorante es feliz porque al no saber tanto de la vida no se preocupa tanto por lo que puede pasar. Con tal de alcanzar ese nivel de felicidad, soy capaz de sacrificar cada neurona en mi cabeza, convertirme en un ignorante mas y vivir sin complicaciones. De que me sirve ser inteligente si sere infeliz toda mi vida?

R.A.Pastor

Se sigue buscando...

Son contados con solo una mano aquellos dias en que despiertas con una sonrisa en tus labios, un sueno que fue perfecto en cualquier sentido, y desde que te despiertas hasta que te duermes es igual. Conforme progresa el dia se siente un aire limpio y refrescante, y todos aquellos problemas que tanto te agobian desaparecen y se vuelven efimeros, etereos, surreales. Nada te perturba, le sonries a desconocidos y silbas notas de alegria mientras caminas viendo al cielo. Si suena raro una entrada en mi blog que hable sobre felicidad, o de un unicornio rosado defecando arcoiris. A lo que voy es que son contados estos dias, y cuando suceden hay que aprovecharlos al maximo, como si fuera la ultima vez que fueran a pasar! Tratas de contagiar este sentimiento melozo y pegajoso con todos aquellos que te rodean para infectarlos de esta bacteria. Pero que sucede cuando no tienes con quien compartirlo? Es cierto, no lo tomen a mal, si tengo amigos tampoco es que soy un anormal psicotico y para arruinar todo soy un rechazado. No, no no mis queridos lectores, tengo mis amigos y trato de hacerlos felices, mas en un dia tan repulsivamente extrano como hoy. Puedo tener muchos amigos, pero no tengo alguien que pueda llamar mi mejor amigo, mi persona. El puesto esta vacante, la ultima en ocuparlo decidio suicidarse, tan solo tomo una pistola y no solo mato nuestra amistad, sino que tambien disparo una bala directo al corazon de todo aquello en que creia, bala destructora que simplemente rompio en pedazos todas aquellas memorias y sentimientos que existian. Pero suficiente de un requiem vacio, no es mas que un mal recuerdo, un sin sabor, o como ella lo hubiera puesto, un mal viaje. En fin, en estos momentos de extrana felicidad, no hay nada que golpee mas las paredes de mi corazon mas que el sentimiento de tener alguien con quien vivir experiencias, y con miedo a sonar como a alguien diferente, quiero tener esa persona con quien pueda compartir mis sentimientos. Creo que es oficial. Busco una mejor amiga, una persona que este ahi para mi sin importar la hora ni el lugar, que no le importen mis estupideces sino que se ria de ellas y talvez conmigo, alguien que sepa cuando reir y cuando callar, una persona que me quiera por lo que soy de verdad y mas importante una persona que no rompa mi corazon, porque creo que ya es suficiente por ahora. Hasta ahora me percato que antes habia escrito sobre este mismo tema, casi exactamente un mes, talvez sea la necedad de mi corazon de seguir sacando a flote este tema, o sera talvez que mi alma realmente necesita un acompanante en este viaje transtornado llamado vida. Si me escuchas, dejame saber.

R.A.Pastor

Desintoxicacion Parte 3

Esta no es una historia de un ganador, mucho menos de un sobreviviente. Solo soy una persona mas en esta vida loca. Una vida con altos y bajos, como una montana rusa sin final. Es un viaje infinito con altos y bajos, la unica diferencia en esta metafora es que no puedes ver cuando sube y cuando baja. Vendado de ojos disfrutando del viaje. Cuando caes y caes solo esperas subir un poco mas para no seguir en lo mismo solo para caer mas y mas. Newton tenia razon, todo lo que sube tiene que bajar, maldito bastardo. Estos ultimos dias he tratado de subir sin importar lo que sucediera, subir como si no ocurriera algun manana, sin importar lo que pasara. Sin contar el sufrimiento y el suplicio que implica. Tengo miedo a las alturas, literal y figurativamente hablando, uno de mis mas grandes miedos es a estar tan alto y solo caer, no me da miedo el estrellarme al piso y morir, o quedar paralizado de los ojos para abajo, mucho menos el que mi cabeza explote contra el pavimento como sandia tirada de un edificio, en cierto modo lo encuentro macabramente gracioso, si le pasara a otra persona me reiria mucho, en fin. Tengo miedo a caer, de estar en la cima a desplomarme, panico a que se me quemen mis alas. Pero llega un punto donde dejo de subir, dejo de dar mi pelea y me rindo. No pude mas. He tenido una recaida. No pude con la presion y solo cai desenfrenadamente al mismo ciclo de siempre. Con solo una probada, con solo que mi lengua saboree aquello que me vuelve loco. Con solo eso mi alma cayo. No pude mas... Esta vez me rindo.

R.A.Pastor

Desintoxicacion Parte 2

Creo que ahora entiendo el termino, me siento como aquel pavo que lo van a matar para cocinarlo. Sudando frio, temblando e inquieto... Dejar una adiccion sin medicamentos o tratamientos para disminuir la dosis suena tan imposible, mas si la adiccion esta en un estado simbiotico contigo, ella te da la felicidad, te quita el dolor, te hace volar mientras lo unico q tienes q hacer es darle la llave de tu vida. Han pasado pocas horas pero mi cerebro las ha traducido en dias, hasta meses. Poco a poco siento como se corroe mi ser, pierdo el sentido de ser yo mismo y me desvanesco en un espiral de locura con tonos rojos y morados. Dejo de percibir la vida como tal, sino como un estado intermedio entre nacimiento y muerte, ya naci asi que lo unico que me queda es morir para nacer de nuevo, contemplar, sobrevivir, llevar a cabo este ciclo infinito de vida y muerte, no soy mas que una molecula en el aire, un dato en una memoria, una gota en el salado mar, pero a la vez soy tan importante para la evolucion que el ser humano no podria continuar su ciclo sin mi. Soy lo que soy, sere lo que fui, soy un virus en este organismo o un caballero en este castillo. El titulo es irrelevante en este momento. Antes era, en el futuro sere, en estos momentos no soy mas que una persona mas, temblando por su triste adiccion. Lo peor de todo es que todavia es la calma antes de la tormenta

R.A.Pastor

Desintoxicacion Parte 1

Mi pulso esta acelerado, mis dedos temblando. La luz molesta mis ojos irritados asi que procedo a apagar la luz de mi cuarto, casi en completa oscuridad y aun no es suficiente. En mis brazos mis pulseras negras que me recuerdan de dos cosas, mi pasado y mi futuro. Las venas en mis manos estan exaltadas, como si quisieran escaparse de mi piel para tomar aire. Trato de hablar pero sencillamente no existe tal, el tono desaparece hasta quedar un sonido parecido a un grito ronco. Estoy mostrando los primeros sintomas, sintomas de una adiccion psicologica a mi droga preferida. El primer paso es reconocer que soy un adicto y que necesito dejarlo pero es muy duro, mi mente lo necesita. Redes neuronales se han formado alrededor de toda aquella memoria buena de mi droga y han creado sinapsis al punto de que con solo pensar en eso me hace feliz. Necesito solo una dosis para ser el de antes, para ser el alma de la fiesta, en mi mente claro esta. Mis neuronas gritan por ellas, estoy inquieto y se que solo un poco podra calmarme, hacerme soportar la noche. Aunque mi higado este destruido por el esfuerzo aun reconoce el sabor de todos aquellos buenos tiempos. El principio siempre es facil, lo dificil es lo que sigue...

R.A.Pastor