I can't stand this any more! My parents (specially my mother, my father is not so stupid) are unbelievably ARRRRRRGH.

It's stupid how they always manage to make my life suck a little more. If it wasn't for the money, the nice apartment, and paying my bills, I swear I wouldn't put up with them any more. Well, I do like my father, he's rational and a natural conciliator. But he's never here, he's always working or travelling, so he's never around for enough time to get my mother to see she's not the centre of the damn universe.

So, yeah, my mother doesn't work because she feels it is better if she is here with us. Good lord! She has two fucking university degrees, and a lot of superior education, and she never uses them! She just sits around being a pain in the arse, complaining about everything and being a huge pain. To-day was (I hope) the climax: she calls me, in the middle of a fucking anger fit, to yell at me because I -supposedly- moved her car's right mirror. I didn't even touch that stupid mirror, and I told her so, but OH NO! She's always right. So, after 2 minutes of putting up with this illogical ranting, may I add that it was rather insulting, I hung up.

Please, tell me, does ANYONE on earth have to put up with insults without a cause?!

Anyway, she got really mad, so she took my car away ("I'm not revenging, I am just teaching you to be respectful"), she THREATENED to kick me out of the house! OMG, as if she could fucking do that!!!! My father is getting fed-up with her, so I told him and he called her, but she just bitched more. The thing is my father loves her too much, so I'm pretty much screwed. He could help settle things down, and make us see that I shouldn't have hung up (after all, she's my mother), and making her see that those stupid threats and punishments are way out of fucking line.

But no, he's travelling.

As if that wasn't enough, all I've ever wanted to do is to go study in the US, 4 years living away from my family, seeing a more real world. But I can't. I have to finish Law School here (sucks big time). The thing is, they think I love it (and if I told them I don't, things would be far worse). And -wait- they want me to have a fucking top-3 average! They said they would be really disappointed if I didn't, and that they didn't consider it'd be serious to let me go study journalism abroad if I didn't have a extremely good average. GOOOOOD. I mean, they also think I am a very bad son!
Good lord! I've been the best son ever, never misbehaving, being perfectly honest and respectful to them, doing absolutely everything that want me to do. I guess they're so used to the perfect son, that whenever I make a mistake, they only see the bad things. I just with my best effort would ever be enough for them, I just want them to say I did something right one damn time. I mean, my brother gets a pathetic 60% average, and he gets a party and gifts. I get a 93% average, the 2nd in my class and all they said is 'you could've done better'.

DAMN IT! Don't they see it hurts?! It hurts a lot, and I am not a happy person, and I will go insane if I have to keep repressing my feelings!!!! BUT I HAVE TO GO ON REPRESSING FOR THE NEXT 5 YEARS! I am so unahppy it's not normal, and I can't even smile any more. At least I had a hypocritical smile before, but now even that one is gone.

So yeah, I am a fucking overachiever, a damn great party planner, and the most perfect son ever just to get a 'you could've had done better!'. I CAN'T DO BETTER ANYMORE! I CAN'T! I CAN'T! GOD I HATE MY LIFE SO MUCH. But I need the money, and the people around me, and the luxury. I am such a fucking coward. It's all my fault, it's always my fault: that's what my parents say. I guess it's true, after all, it's always my fault.

Floc-ci-nau-ci-hil-i-pil-i-fi-ca-tion:

noun
the action or habit of estimating something as worthless. (The word is used chiefly as a curiosity.)

New Oxford American Dictionary.

I love that word!

Anyway, I guess I am ok now.
My best friend left the country for good, and my other best friend will do the same this thursday. I hate it when people goes! It's unfair!
On the other hand, I adore law school, and I've met nice people. And, guess what! There's a LGBT union in my university, and, apparently, all the guys are really hot. I may go sometime (Hey, I'm a chicken).

So, a lot of things are going on in my head, and I need to write the -if I can call them that- titles of the issues.

1. Communism has already proved itself wrong, if we stick to Marx's historical materialism.

2. How can I keep my eyes away from the very hot guy in that class? He's older, he's the teachers assistant (that means he is trés smart, and the teacher's protégé).

2.1. How can I NOT look at him when he raises his hand and his absolutely hot torso shows?

3. What the hell is wrong with my car's alarm system?

4. Should I take Piano classes at the University and re-discover my passion for that instrument?

4.1. How can I overcome my fear of becoming piano-useless after so many years?

5. 50-50 is fine... but 40-40-20?

6. If a large latte is $2,500.oo, an espresso $3,200.oo, how much cash do I need from the ATM to survive one week (without having to visit the ATM twice a week?), considering my Coffee habits to vary a lot?

7. Why the hell do I have to pay a $4,400.oo (USD $2) in the bank?!

8. Has the hot gay guy my best-friend knows broke up yet? Will I like him and vice-versa?

9. Why is The Cloud Room so unbelievably cool?

10. What will I have for lunch tomorrow?!

11. What's my grade on the test?

12. I'm ready for a relationship... but there's no one around.

13. 13 is a happy number.

Have you ever reunited all the documents and Id's you need to give up your nationality... meaning business?

It's sad. All the things I may need to give up my nationality are in a large, brown envelope. I may have to use the envelope's contents soon. I don't want to, but I may have to in order to keep my conscience clean. I hate it when being a good citizen -and always abiding to the law- means that you have to give up something really big in order to never infringe a law. Well, that's my case: if I want to abide to the law -as I always have, and as I always will-, I may have to give up my nationality. Governments can be so stupid.

On the other hand, I love my University. Law School is a lot of fun, and even if one of my classes seems to be made of the cast of a baaaaad soap opera, the other classes are GREAT, and I love them. I love the campus, I love the restaurants, and I love my commute (only 20 minutes if traffic's good, about an hour if it's bad). Life's good.

Edit: FIRST DAY OF LAW SCHOOL TOMORROW.

1. I'm dehydrated.

2. I want waffles. There's no waffle mix around.

3. I think I have found the 'cure' of homosexuality... at least, I managed to make a really gay guy go straight.

4. The above issue is sort of getting my nerves.

5. It is a guy who used to be friend.

6. I just realised I am uncomfortable talking about this.

7. Why?! Why me?!

8. I hate Facebook. I really do. I hate it! I hate it!

9. This morning was fine until I checked my email and saw his friend request.

10. Then I saw his relationship status.

11. And his pictures.

12. My mouse is out of battery.

13. I need water... (and a hug?)

I'm having a terrible night.

8.40 Am isn't the morning unless you've slept. If you haven't slept, it is like a sick white night. Light in the middle of the night. I haven't slept.

12:00-I go to bed
1:00-I can't sleep
2:00-I can't sleep
3:00-I can't sleep, and I am really tired. Damn insomnia.
4:00-Mother wakes up. Brings up distressing issue. Bye bye night!
5:00-Watch french film, try to get my mind out of the issue.
6:00-Walk the dog. Put on a hypocritical smile for a special occasion.
7:00-Receive people, smile, and be nice. I wanna cry, but it's not the right moment.
8:00-Try to forget the pain. Facebook must be numbing.

And here I am. 8.40. Damn 8.40. it's been such a long and bad night... and I still have long hours ahead of me, long hours of this insane and cruel night that turns into a day -a day full of ghosts, and repressed desires.

I'm about to reach the point of no return. I'll go insane.
Please, someone, tell me this night is over and lull me into sleeping...let me wake up in a happy world.

Gotta go. Mother's here/

I Hate Summer:

So much free time. I hate free time: it makes me depressive. Really! If I have too much free time I start getting self-damaging: first I'll start making grim life prospects, always making me look pathetic. Then I combine these grim prospects with a platonic celebrity crush, so I feel that I'm not only NOT getting to have a good life, but that some people does -and I'm not even getting to say hello to them. Then I try to cheer myself up by spending money: never works, don't try it at home. Then I get really, really, really bored and sulk... and then it all comes together in one bombastic quick succession of moods!
I'm there right now. I'm hyper one hour, and then I just wanna dig a hole and stay in there....oh, and because of Uni starting the 1st, I had to cancel my tickets for my traditional 1-week-of-sheer-and-absolute-happiness-in-Manhattan. So without my week of island happiness, I'm even moodier. I could bite anyone right now.

I (could) Love Life:

Yesterday I had no parents and no brother. They we're gone somewhere else. Late in the night, about half an hour after pushing the right buttons, the Jacuzzi on the terrace happened to be hot, filled to the brim, and bubbly. Somehow my hands managed to make a couple Martinis, and the glasses sweated when the hot water vapour touched them. The night was beautiful, the jacuzzi warm and fuzzy, the drinks cold and refreshing, the street quiet, the stars shiny, and the bubbles had the faintest smell of fresh snow. It was grand. It would've been like heaven if I just had someone to share it with. Someone to toast with. Someone to hug. Someone to talk about the stars. Someone to love, to love me, to love life.

I'm out of Tylenol (no, I can't buy any, they only sell stupid Advil here).
Oh, and I'm going to the Most Awkwardest dinner of the year in about half an hour. Have any of you seen Gilmore Girls? Seen the Friday Night Dinners? More awkward than that, I swear. I mean. I like my grandparents a lot, but is it necessary for my grandmother to invite my cousins whom have absolutely nothing to do with me? It's so unfair! I have to go, and be really nice, and it'll be awkward, since we all know my cousins and I have no common grounds.

As if it wasn't enough, my grandmother told my grandfather to not drag me away to his office (where he fixes the best drinks ever, and is definitely not boring). She knew I was planning to run away with my grandfather to his office! Darn.

Now, I need to get my smile on, find my car keys, scan four pictures and email them, call a guy that stalks me and tell him that 'my phone was attacked by a murderous puddle! It's so dead now!' (the guy stalks everyone from my UN model, and he's really tiresome, and always invites me to the worst places ever. Goodness. I mean. Is it really necessary to watch a film 190 blocks away?! WITH NO DINNER OR ANYTHING AMUSING AFTERWARDS?! *sighs* I love films with friends, and non-friends are not good options for films without dinner...they bore me!)

AND WHY THE HECK IS MY INTERNET SO SLOW?!

Oh, did I tell you my first day of Uni is the 1st of August? Law School. Finally. I'm sort of excited. I've also developed an insane crush for a famous musician. Rather self-destructive, I need to find myself a more feasible crush. And my chequebook. Where the hell may that stupid twat have left the chequebook?

I've been a Muse fan since Origin of Symmetry. I love all of their CDs from Showbiz on. I saw them live today.

HOW CAN ANYONE BE THAT GOOD?! I love the three of them. Matthew Bellamy's voice is just insane, and his piano and guitar playing skills are rather absurd. Christopher Wolstenholme and Dominic Howard are just amazing musicians, not to mention stage-smart.

I'm loving Muse more than I did before, and that's like a huge lot of love, since I adored them before the concert. I love Muse. I love Muse. And Bellamy's so hot!

You just can't imagine how awesome the concert was, it was like too awesome to be true! I almost had a heart attack at Knights of Cydonia, Supermassive Black Hole, Invincible, Showbiz, Time is Running Out, Stockholm Syndrome, and pretty much every song. Except everyone was like insanely excited in Starlight, so that was cool.
I also looooooved the little interludes they did, like when Bellamy goes completely insane with the guitar or the piano. It was heaven. I almost cried when Knights (the last song) was over.

They're the best

-Why do all my friend's boyfriends have to be either hot, or charming?

-Why won't my palm sync my contacts?

-Why did I had to go out with a friend and her boyfriend to a ceviche place if they don't like neither seafood, nor raw food?

-Why does my best friend have to leave for four years?

-Why can't I find Vampire Weekend's CD?

-And why, oh, why did I accept going to Muse tomorrow with them?

If you can answer any of those, and tell me the meaning of life, I'll be in commensurably joyous.

"Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them?" (Hamlet)

I'm scared.
I don't know whether I should just keep on going with the flow, trying to swim through life with no pain or glory, or to fight back, against the current, and do something to change the way things are?
I should stay away from truisms.

What if there are no certainties in life? Then, I guess, I will need to tell myself lies to wake up every morning. It would be too depressive otherwise. But, isn't that what we do everyday? Telling ourselves a huge lie over and over again, telling ourselves that there are certainties and absolute truths in life, just to be able to wake up and live a life of lies. And if there do are certainties, what am I doing?

Milan Kundera said, in The Unbearable Lightness of Being, that we have to choose between weight and lightness. I can't express that better than he did, so let me quoth him:
"If every second of our lives recurs an infinite number of times, we are nailed to eternity as Jesus Christ was nailed to the cross. It is a terrifying prospect. In the world of eternal return the weight of unbearable responsibility lies heavy on every move we make. That is why Nietzsche called the idea of eternal return the heaviest of burdens. If eternal return is the heaviest of burdens, then our lives can stand out against it in all their splendid lightness. But is heaviness truly deplorable and lightness splendid? The heaviest of burdens crushes us, we sink beneath it, it pins us to the ground. But in the love poetry of every age, the woman longs to be weighed down by the man's body. The heaviest of burdens is therefore simultaneously an image of life's most intense fulfillment. The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real and truthful they become. Conversely, the absolute absence of a burden causes man to be lighter than air, to soar into the heights, take leave of the earth and his earthly being, and become only half real, his movements as free as they are insignificant. What then shall we choose? Weight or lightness?

The though of making a mistake -in choosing lightness or weight- is terrifying. What if this is a world of lightness, freedom, and we are living it too heavily? Could it be that taking life so seriously is my mistake, not letting me fully enjoy the experience, filling me up with worries, making me too careful?

Whatever happens, I just expect I find a solution for life, because I am starting to get tired of my fears, my so-called certainties, my doubts. What can I do to be better at living?

Wow. I am totally and completely discombobulated. Yesterday the only three things I wanted to do were reading the novel, graduating, and finishing my final assignment for Philosophy.

Now, I thought I would not miss my school at all --after all, I will see pretty much everyone almost every day, so it's not like I can miss people I shall have around for my whole life-- No, something far different. I wish there were words for that, but it is as if the was a huge black stain in the middle of a Chagall, out of place, reckless, and ruining everything. I can't be nostalgic! But I am. But I can't.

My last English class was yesterday -an AP class, English Literature and Composition-, just after the last Poetry in English class. I felt so sad. In such a small school as mine is, teachers are carefully chosen from thousands, and most of them are wonderful people, but my English teacher was not only wonderful, but one of the wisest persons ever. I have had classes with him for the last three years, and like most of the Senior class (we're but 40, in total), I've developed a relatively close relationship with him. Now that I think about him, I just realised I have about 10 of his books I'd better give him back before he goes to the US for the Summer. Anyway. I just realised I'll miss his classes a lot. And my Literature classes in Spanish: the last class I took, Latin American Literature was so good! I'll miss classes, and yeah, that is nerdy. That happens when your biggest class has 9 persons, and you feel crowded.

I was reading this novel, that I borrowed from someone expecting an easy to read page-turner, Bel Canto. Ok, it was a page-turner, indeed, but it was so sad, and so beautiful! A must read for anyone who appreciates a little insight into the human soul, a beautiful little insight into the soul. It is not the most delicate novel ever, it could never be totally delicate or totally indelicate, but as Forster taught the world, not everything that is delicate is beautiful.

Finals next week, and I am not stressed at all, except for the very long Philosophy work I have to hand in Monday. Nevertheless, I have been listening to all my Opera CDs a lot: they sooth me, and there is nothing more perfect than an Opera. Try to understand Madama Butterfly, get a translation or something to read along with the Opera, and if you are not crying by the end I swear you have homicidal tendencies.

I wish my life was more exciting. It is not that I want life to turn into an endless series of quick and intense moments: I am not made for that. But I would love, indeed, to find a little more equilibrium between the idleness I love, the way I can always predict what will happen, how it will happen, and how much time will I have to read more novels and hear more records. Right now, after so many years, I appreciate my idle time a lot, but sometimes, after so many years of the same life, I wish something, anything, sincerely exciting happened. Not a big event, but something intense. Perhaps a prospect would also work, prospects are also good.

I wish my crush would come out or something. I swear I have seen him looking at me while I stare at him (he caught me with my defences down one day, and I stared right into his eyes for about five seconds before looking away)... but it could always be that my secret wishes are making me see signals were there is nothing. It wouldn't be the first time.

Writing this, I fear, is merely therapeutic, but I am enjoying myself a lot. I would like to use 'I' and 'me' less while writing, I am feeling egocentric.

When was the last time you stopped to think about beauty?

Not beauty as in pleasant to the eyes --although that is, also, beauty--, but beauty as something inherent to the arts, to love, to the good moments of life. The world, it seems to me, is too pragmatical, too damned pragmatical. Well, there is something wrong with pragmatism, and it is that there is no space for the beauty of the useless things in it. Stop and think right now: when was the last time you did something so utterly useless, yet so essentially beautiful, that you were happy for hours, if not days after?
Art, for example, seems to be able to survive pragmatism, as it did with the Communists and Kitsch, but although it is beautiful, giving art a fixed purpose kills something in its core. Back to Chagall, or Klimt, or Kandinsky, or Picasso, or Dali, or Kahlo, or whoever you like: do you think their best paintings were created out of a set purpose, or out of the sheer pleasure and the metaphysical fulfilment of making something beautiful? I sincerely hope you agree with me, and take the latter. Do the same with books, music, your life. Perhaps you should learn a language that won't be useful at all in your future, or introducing yourself to a new kind of experience (by the by, let me recommend Opera) with no expectations whatsoever different to enjoyment.

I can not really believe that school is really over. I am halfway between ecstatic and nostalgic. Such a bitter-sweet feeling seems to be perfect for such a situation. What if life gets better? What if it gets worse? What if what I really want is a hiatus -a hiatus out of this world and its worries, somewhere where beauty and thinking are the top priorities, a hiatus somewhere that is so magnificent in its details, so pure in its conception and so clean in its core that people can't do anything but become noble, magnificent, pure and clean themselves?- I want beauty.

One.

He is my crush.
He is perfect for me.
I don't dare make the first move.
Not even using a face identity in Facebook.
I'll graduate the 19th.
I may never see him again.
I hate my cowardice.

Two.

My parents will go.
As everyone parents.
They may hear the comments.
Ill be bored
I'll be worried.
My parents will fry me alive later.
And *bonus* there may be a very embarrassing video of me in the Prom's video, that may get oublished in Facebook.

Three.

I am fucking scared.
My mother is scared that I am gay.
I want them to know.
I know dad will be OK with gay.
But I never see him.
He travels a lot.
Mother, I see everyday.
She will hate me.

Four.

I need a guy.
I need a tender kiss.
I need a real friend
I need someone that listens.
I need to go out.
I can't.
I'm scared.
I need to go somewhere this holidays far from my parents
I can't.
I need a guy.
I need love.
I need tranquillity.

Five.

Even my best effort is not enough.
I'm always underachieving for them.
I need a normal life.
I need peace of mind.
And freedom
I need everyone to know I'm gay.
I can't.
I need to think about myself more.
I need to be an average teenager.
No one my age should feel this old
look this tried
be this stressed.

Six.

I need change.

Seven.

I won't get change.

Eight.

I'm desperate.
I'll break down.

Nice.

Help me.

Ten.

I need a hug.

Ok. I was walking home, in the same block I've lived pretty much my whole life. Nothing never happens here. Nothing. So, I was walking, and right in front of my building's door (the doorman is behind a second door, so he couldn't see), a guy comes at me with a knife. He made me walk about 400 metres, asking for my phone and my iPod, with a knife on my back. I feel so vulnerable! I'm so damn.... my nerves are cracking. I just hope the guy has a slow and painful death, preferably in my eyesight.

My parents want me to have a relationship with my best friend (a girl). They said it over lunch, and she was present. A-rate awkward moment. I just wish they could keep their mouths shut every now and then. Damn. Damn. Damn. I'm so pissed at them... why can't they notice that A) I'm not interested in her romantically, and B) that I'm gay. Damn.