TellTaleTime

I've seen quite a few blogs these days, oh have I seen blogs! Val, yours is like beholding a volcanic explosion: both beautiful and devastating.

So I'm going to tell you a little tale now:

The road of the warrior

Down the road, the warrior kept on walking, grasping both his stomach and the grip of his gun, he hadn't eaten for so long he thought it was forever, and he didn't feel like he could raise his weapon to fight anymore, even if his life depended on it.

Just as he was about to curse his destiny and lay to starve, he saw the glimpse of a house right ahead of him. He dragged his feet to the door, which was wide open, and he saw with joy that a nice maiden with a smiley face beckoned to him to come inside.

An hour later he was full of joy and good food, his clothes were clean and his muscles finally relaxed. He felt like he could stay like this forever, all his needs fulfilled, all his pains gone.

And she didn't say a word or asked for reasons, she just served, obeyed and smiled. He would tell her his stories from distant lands, about unending battles and struggle. She would just smile and nod, basking in the hero's virtues and stories.

So he thought he could stay there forever. No more fighting, only his deserved rest.

But a couple days later, he felt restless. Wasn't he supposed to be happy? Wasn't this all that he dreamed? A quiet life, a handshake and no alarms and no suprises? Why did he feel this urge to stand up and run out to the desert again, to the hunger, the loneliness and the conflict?

He tried to delay it, he really did, but one morning he grabbed his pack, sheathed his gun and ran through the door, in the middle of the night and the rain without ever looking back. He cursed at himself, he hated himself.

But still, he ran and he smiled....

***********************

A couple months later, our hero can be seen again, really thin and tired by the journeys, once again dragging himself on the road, but this time the road was sandy and unfriendly, not a soul to be seen for miles. But in the horizon, he once again saw the shadow of a house, so he kept on walking.

As he approached the door, he could read signs, hostile signs. "no tresspassing", "enter at your own risk" "danger". His voice of self-preservation told him to turn back and leave, but he really had nowhere else to go, and that voice had become a mere whisper now.

There were skeletons too, some complete and in horrible poses, others incomplete but wholly frightening all the same. He had to put his coat over the barbed-wire fence and hop with his last strength.

He knocked on the door..

An opening through the door let a shotgun out, followed by the rough voice of a lady:

GET OUT!

But he didn't flinch.

"You're all the same, I had dreams, I had hopes, but you'd come in the middle of the night, steal my animals and salt my fields. Not again. You're not welcome"

He just muttered "I am hungry, please, just a little bread"

"Why should I?"

The hero barely smiled "because, even hungry as I am, If I wanted to damage you, you'd be dead already".

She didn´t open the door, but pulled back the shotgun and said "You can sleep in the doorway, and if even a speck of dirt is missing from my property tomorrow, you'll have lead for breakfast".

Almost as an afterthought, a piece of bread fell from the hole. He picked up the bread and ate it. It was damp and tasted like cardboard, but for whatever reason, he liked it.

********

It was almost a month now, and he was now sleeping in the barn. The bread was still damp and tasteless, but she would toss an apple or a glass of milk every now and then. He worked on the fields and he felt tired. This was so hard. He wanted to stand up and leave, but for whatever reason he kept waking up, helping the lady and sleeping in the barn every day, while telling her his stories of foreign lands, hoping she would know him through them.

Just as he was about to sleep, the lady opened the barn door. She had her shotgun still, but she vaguely smiled and said "y'know, it's raining and I don't want to have a flu-infected hobo living on my property. Come on, kid, you'll sleep in the living room tonight"

Right there he knew he could stay, for a little longer at least.

********

So this guy had complained for a long time about his uncomfortable situation, but ran away from all earthly comforts one rainy night. After that he stayed eating stale bread and sleeping in a barn for days after days. Is he crazy?

To an extent, yes, he is. But what happened on his head?

Well, in the first house, he had it all except for freedom and deserving. He had fought all his life, but couldn't enjoy any of the pleasures of a relaxed life, because he hadn't fought for it.

But in the second one he had to fight against a thousand demons for mere pieces of stale bread. He deserved every bite, and he enjoyed the challenge. He had fought for so long that now the fight had become a part of him, now he knew that to be worth it, he had to earn it.

I wrote this as a way to say that I am willing to fight for what I want, especially with my emotions. I came from a time where I could have everything I wanted from a person with just a word, but I hardly knew her, and she swore she loved me after just a couple days of knowing me. Now I'm walking down the sandy road, learning that special people have sometimes become so special because they sheltered themselves behind traps, walls and labyrinths, just to make sure that the few ones that could survive it all would be as special as them. Knowing I can be that special if I believe in myself.

I used to think that if someone opened the door, that would be enough for me to start a relationship and make it work. Now I know better, I know I'll have to break barriers and remain faithful until I can knock on the door.

Now I think that it takes guts to get to the door, and if anyone is brave enough to open the door for me, I will be brave enough to prove, to myself and to her, that the road of the warrior has been worth it and that all the tests and difficulties just make the relationship a lot better in the end.

I am of course very scared, but I'm not walking away until all hope is spent.

Thanks, and have a good one.

For beginners, I'm alive. And then some...

Yep, I was feeling pretty self destructive last week, and it wasn't just a desperate gamble for attention, it was more a desperate call for ideas.

And thank you guys for some of them, they are actually making my life a lot more pleasant, not easier, mind you, just pleasant. In fact many things have happened in this week and I hope I can encompass them all in this entry:

1. THE DANCE OF LIFE
Are there anymore places where you can bet you'd never see ole Dragonmago ever again? Just when you could bet the guy would never be caught alive in a church, bam! he shows up and starts praying like it's judgment day. So a room full of old timers balding and gossiping like there's no tomorrow is no place for Mario? Wrong!! He even works there!

Ah!! but a place full of hippies drinking herbal tea, burning incense and talking about trips to India and fields of energy, now there's a place that will remain untouched by DM's foul footprints, right?

Right?

Well....

I was introduced to a funny concept called Biodance, a therapy system developed by a chilean psychologist who decided to fuse together classic psychotherapy, classic dance and alternative therapies such as tai-chi and energy fluxes. Yep, I know, it sounds more new age than a Kitaro record. And after much procrastination, I decided to give them a shot.

To make the story short, let's just say that the first therapy, two months ago, unleashed the many energies that in these few weeks led me to a new relationship, the therapyst couch, new friendships and even this blog right here. It was an identity workshop and it left me with a brand new toy called "self-esteem", a toy that I've had issues managing, but that is for the first time stable (if you check back on my posts, I have suffered in probably every aspect of my personality EXCEPT for my self esteem).

And last night it was a creativity workshop. It was intense and insightful but not as spectacular as the last one. However I believe that its results will surface over time, and some of its conclussions are quite showy on their own.

1. Biodance first principle is not to resurface any negative aspect of a person whatsoever, it will only work boosting the positive areas. So of course, you're forced to discover the positive areas of yourself you've been so willing to hide and deny.

2. For biodance to work you have to...well...dance. I have never been quite the dancer if my friends recall it, but after two sessions with these guys I have to face it: I like dancing, in fact, I can be pretty good at it and I feel the call of the floor to bust my moves. A new dawn of a dancing DragonMago approaches...

3. I, at the same time, fear and await with fiendish delight for the sensuality workshop. Those who have had the joy of dancing with their special one know the powerful bind that dance can create, and the heavy work done on insight and opening up can really break ice down. I tell you, there were points where pretty much every lady in the room was, so to speak, workable, and I could tell that a couple of them were eyeing me like a piranha looks at some roast beef. The catch? The ladies are quite grown up. While the first session there were a couple girls about my age, this time around it was all about the experience. The younger one must have been 35 years old, and the oldest lady could have been easily 60. Of course the mirror advantage is that I was one of two guys in the band. If the sensuality workshop -which should come around in like 6 months- happens to bring around a hot girl, there might be a story worth reading here folks!!

So, has the last workshop changed me? I dunno yet, put I'll keep you informed.

2. THE DEPARTURE OF A FRIEND

One of the perks of a high self esteem is the ability to meet new people. This last couple months I've become very close with my friend Lizzie, a tiny girl with a lot of qualities that sometimes surface in an outcast life -much like mine. Witty, sincere, funny, sexy, insightful and spontaneus are a few of the list of adjectives I could use on such a friend.

And well, she is back on the States to visit her family for a couple months at least, considering whether to come back or not because she's had some rough times in this tiny country, she's had a lot of emotional pitfalls (more on that later) and even her health has suffered because of it. And these last days the stability of her family has been shaken by a couple of very unfortunate events that I won't even mention here.

Liz, if you're reading this, I want you to know that I miss you lots, that I can always enjoy the company of such a good talker that will let me get some of my demons out while at the same time helping you to deal with your own brand of evils. I want you to know that I check often on your house, feeding your kitty and trying to get a little order around. I plan to sleep there at the very least a night every week and I will somehow purge that hamburger meat you made for your kitty long ago and now threatens to destroy your in-fridge biosphere.

I finally want you to know that if you decide to return, your crew is waiting here. You have someone here just for you.

And now Lizzie, is rant time:

3. THE NEW JEKYLLS AND HYDES

Ok, here I go my friend: you and Gendo are, quite possibly, two of the most extraordinary, caring and stable persons I've ever met, you both are quite something and I've come to appreciate a lot my time and friendship with any of you.

except...

when you two are together.

Excuse me, both of you my friends, but all the stability, the sense, the sensibility, and in general, the sanity you guys show on your normal life goes completely out of the window when you're together. Reason becomes madness, maturity becomes childishness, generosity becomes selfishness and harmony becomes hell. Suddenly the rational beings I admire and respect become completely alien, holding absurds arguments over the phone or face-to-face, squabbling over the most disparate and tiny conflicts, and generally shredding each other to pieces in front of all your friends, hurting yourselves and the ones that care about you in the whole bloody process.

I think someone might have told you already this, but if not, then it's my turn to speak. You guys are killing each other, literally. Your intentions don't matter anymore, you might try to be aggresive, gentle, vengeful, loving, rational, caring or even diplomatic with each other, but in the end you end up fighting, injuring and spooking the living shit out of yourselves and everyone around you.

Face it, you CAN'T be together now. Read this again, slowly and carefully, sans abbreviation:

YOU CAN NOT BE TOGETHER NOW

Stick that in your heads, this vicious cycle is not going to get better, just worse. I am not telling this out of some dark interest or desperation. I know where you've been, I lived such a scheme for over two years and I had to pull my shit together and break with her in such a way that there was no room for a comeback, pretty much risking our friendship and all that built in those two years. You might say it's not the same case and I agree, but the essence remains unchanged: two wonderful persons holding on to a relationship LONG due over, reluctant to leave a sunken ship that only keeps on dragging you deeper and deeper, and oblivious to the fact that as long as you keep on struggling to make this work, you are only sinking faster.

Liz, profit on this time with your family and your friends in Cali. Go around, listen to music, eat nice food, get that medical checkup ASAP, detox yourself a little from that good ol' Ecuadorian tobacco and relax those strung nerves. And don't call G in these two months, at all. Get him out of your system, I'm not saying forever, but you must completely rebuild your relationship with him. Scrap the old scheme, it just won't work. Live and enjoy.

G; get out. Seriously, get to meet people, dude, get laid, share some coffees, share some sunsets, open up man!! Live your freakin' life!! If that doesn't work, well, look for yourself, you're a beautiful person that has stashed himself away behind a monstruous frontend created with false hopes and bullshit that belongs to everyone but you. You need therapy? I know where to get it. You need to talk to someone? talk to me, but don't talk to Liz, not because she doesn't love you. EXACTLY because she loves you and you love her you can't afford the luxury of talking to her.

One of you has to have the gills to break this fucking circle, better if it's both of you. You might think that there might be a way around it yet. Face it: there isn't a way around, just a way out. You guys need a break, a long one. Think a semester.

Ok, I'm done, sorry for poking my nose on this, but the truth is that it's getting so big it's starting to get in my space and everyone else's.

4. SORRY VAL, I'M A CRETIN

Not much story here, I deeply apologize for being such an ass today girl. I sometimes can't help but to be a minefield, but I shouldn't explode in every step you take. I love you, a bit too much in fact, and sometimes I can't stand to see you living such a nice relationship with someone that could have been me. I've put a lot of dirt between you and me, but it's still not enough. I'm trying to walk out of you, but until my new efforts bring any success, please bear with me. And handle me with extreme precaution.

********

That's all. Stand up and move. Thank me lat8r.

th3 6l04m1n6

I came ready to write a lot of my witty commentaries about this bizarre test in downward spirals called "Mario", but that will have to be left for later. I'm just not that cocky at this point. I have this tumor in my soul, a bad mixture of loneliness, desperation, frustration, anger and pain that lives in a tormented circle of recession-propagation.

So I will try to be more straightforward, sparkling my posts with bits and pieces of lyrics from Radiohead travelling through my ears as I write.

Satisfaction is quite easy to define, you know....

Sometimes you sulk, sometimes you bawl, God rest your soul when the loving comes and we've already gone, just like your dad, you'll never change

..you either like to some degree the current state of affairs on your life and check back every now and then to make sure it stays like that, or you dislike it and try to change things around until your reality fits your expectations a little more. The first state would somehow qualify as "happiness", the second one is, well, "unhappiness". Actually it's also a matter of duration, you know, if you spend a reasonable amount of time in either state, you might have a little detour to the other state and you would still remain in your original state. You know, a good joke might not make you happy even though you laugh at it....

I've seen it all I've seen the dark and I've seen the pride light as a little spark, I've seen what I choose and I've seen what I need, I've seen it all to want more would be greed.

...and a car accident won't make you unhappy if you remain to keep enough of your original situation to move along your happiness state.

I am unsatisfied, not because I don't like my current state of affairs (that happens from time to time) but because I've been struggling to change it and though there has been a reasonable amount of evolution, I still feel that I'm giving a lot more than it's possible to restock. I know now that I'm a great person capable of great things, lovable and loving, ready to take over the world if the need must come, and taking already the steps to do it. But all this impatience, all these feelings of breaking my emotional ass, trying not to lose my sanity in the process are wearing me off and I'm cracking around the edges. Frustration is creeping in and to be perfectly honest, unless I get a real change (or at the very least, the hint of a change to come)

kill me Sarah, kill me again with love....It's gonna be a glorious day...

All the composure, maturity and control so legendary in me....

the head of state has called for me by name, but I don't have time for him,
It's gonna be a glorious day, I feel my luck could change...

...are about to be blown out the window, with unknown results.

we're standing on the edge

I'm just sick of it, so sick that I won't even bother explaining all the jackassery I've had to endure from everywhere. Something has to snap, to make a hideous sound, to burn to ashes, to hurt and bleed someone somewhere, even if that someone has to be me.

sometimes I get overcharged
that's when you see sparks
They ask me where the hell I'm going
at a 1000 feet per second

Hey man slowdown
slowdown
Idiot, slowdown
slowdown

I am so in touch now with ol' Kurt's Kobain philosophy: burning instead of fading away, I think I've accumulated enough good karma, and I want to cash it NOW, because I'm tired of awaiting for the right reason, the special person and the light at the end of the tunnes that, so far, keep failing to show up.

Is this my last post ever? who knows? I will keep on stuffing words on the internet while I'm alive...

I am fused just in case I blow up
I am grazed just in case I crack out
everything I touch..
Turns to stone
Everything I touch
(all wrapped up in Crinoline)
(all wrapped up and sugar-coated)
turns to stone.

...and finding time to therapy myself through these mutterings. But one thing is for sure, I won't play destiny's jest, I will not push around an existence of witnessing other's moments denied to me for reasons never explained. I will not make, for a single second, life easier for my surroundings if those surroundings keep on beating me as if they hated my guts. Quoting the late Layne Stanley, "If I can't be my own, I feel better dead".

If this was in fact my last post, Kitty can keep the cd's, Val the cards and JJ the games.

And please tell Psycho that he is a freaking idiot for staying with that slut. Nevermind, I might as well tell him before pulling the plug.

However, if a week from now I do post something new, cheer me up guys, at that point it might actually help.

So knives out, catch the mouse
pull it down, shove it in your mouth

I want you to know he's not coming back
he's bloated and frozen
still there's no point in letting it go to waste

So knives out, catch the mouse
squash his head, put it in the pot.