blog 007 - completely forgettable trash

hello to me! it's pablo, and well I really don't know what to say about it at the moment. I'm just doing this out of sheer boredom and so I can kill him, so that's why I'm doing this. Completely stupid, but I was looking for an excuse to be able to edit a blog and write something random. Anyway I guess it could be considered a misfit place for a misfit person, like me, who has nothing else more interesting to do (you really need to come to your senses and do more stuff outside the web). I really hope you become aware of how little you are doing on a daily basis, just watching movies is not enough. nothing just that I had to say for the introduction of this thing. 

I really don't care who sees this, this is for me. But main twngo extreme complaint with all spacehey, I mean how dead it is currently, specially my friends and colleagues on this site, I just don't get it. Besides I try to send friend request to people I'm interested in interacting with but unfortunately all of them are inactive since a long time, about a year or months, very unfortunate to tell the truth; I'm stuck, nobody interacts anymore and the few that are always posting things that in my opinion are stupid things (I know I do it too, but theirs is very different). I don't know what to do lol this is a never ending cycle, if anyone sees this I would appreciate it if you would add me to talk

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Sometimes I ask myself, why did I have to stop tennis training? I was never able to think about it as a kid, I just quit and never went back to another sport. Nowadays I regret having left it, imagining every achievement I would have reached if I had only stayed, until converting the little me of the past to stay and to like the sport, I hope to have another opportunity to integrate myself in it, because I really need it (along with swimming).

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"Every wounded man is forced to metamorphosis. The constant desire to die and to continue resisting, that alone is love" This phrase of Kafka's still gives me chills just reading it, sometimes I would like to experience all the metamorphoses that human beings can live, I would like to be reborn to be able to dissolve the fragments of the past, to be able to leave what I was and to be freely the present. That is the hymn that many of us should repeat. That is the metamorphosis.

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here are some songs for the blog: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

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"There are two means to refuge from the miseries of life: music and cats." Albert Schweitzer. Being deaf should be a crime, what if at some point you stop hearing around you? Having a disability of that degree is like carrying a punishment for your sins, an export to the most sacred thing that can exist in this world. Pure silence, taking away the perfect composition of the visual, killing the alternative spouse of attractiveness.

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I. Allegro non molto-- / Under the heat of the burning summer sun, / Languish man and flock; the pine is parched. / The cuckoo finds its voice, and suddenly, / The turtledove and goldfinch sing. /A gentle breeze blows, / But suddenly, the north wind appears. / The shepherd weeps because, overhead, / Lies the fierce storm, and his destiny. / II. Adagio; Presto-- / His tired limbs are deprived of rest / By his fear of lightning and fierce thunder, / And by furious swarms of flies and hornets. / III. Presto-- / Alas, how just are his fears, Thunder and lightening fill the Heavens, and the hail / Slices the tops of the corn and other grain. - Antonio Vivaldi

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“I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in my life. And I am horribly limited.” - Sylvia Plath /whisper

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When the Pawn Hits the Conflicts He Thinks Like a King What He Knows Throws the Blows When He Goes to the Fight and He'll Win the Whole Thing 'Fore He Enters the Ring There's No Body to Batter When Your Mind Is Your Might So When You Go Solo, You Hold Your Own Hand and Remember That Depth Is the Greatest of Heights and If You Know Where You Stand, Then You Know Where to Land and If You Fall It Won't Matter, Cuz You'll Know That You're Right. - Fiona Apple

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I do not have the right to add nicknames to other people's works, but I would like to give a title to this selection of songs; The Waves: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

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The waves are too independent for the horizontal monotony of the tide. They are different, with great impacts, where they roll and run towards the north; the only paradigm to which they are forced to disintegrate. That is the meaning of life, the transit from rebirth to the eviction of the soul. That is the art of the special cycle of the waves; that they can ignore the emptiness implemented at their base. That alone, is the understanding of embracing destiny with open arms, with a heart willing to accept the penetration of the end. Regardless of the stay of the same, where it only remains, to run to the shore and deliver the body at the end. - pablo 

All my ships are white,' said Rhoda. 'I do not want red petals of hollyhocks or geranium. I want white petals that float when I tip the basin up. I have a fleet now swimming from shore to shore. I will drop a twig in as a raft for a drowning sailor. I will drop a stone in and see bubbles rise from the depths of the sea. Neville has gone and Susan has gone; Jinny is in the kitchen garden picking currants with Louis perhaps. I have a short time alone, while Miss Hudson spreads our copy-books on the schoolroom table. I have a short space of freedom. I have picked all the fallen petals and made them swim. I have put raindrops in some. I will plant a lighthouse here, a head of Sweet Alice. And I will now rock the brown basin from side to side so that my ships may ride the waves. Some will founder. Some will dash themselves against the cliffs. One sails alone. That is my ship. It sails into icy caverns where the sea-bear barks and stalactites swing green chains. The waves rise; their crests curl; look at the lights on the mastheads. They have scattered, they have foundered, all except my ship, which mounts the wave and sweeps before the gale and reaches the islands where the parrots chatter and the creepers…' - Virginia Woolf /Before The Wave

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I know it is already obvious to you dear, but I am really proud of the existence of something as powerful as the sea; or well, every derivation of water. But it is not about the water, but the kingdom that dominates the sea. The sea apart from being a very essential natural material for every existing species, is one of the most beautiful things that could ever be appreciated; something that if it is lost, we would lose a part of us, a part of our nature, as if a part of our body would be detached for lack of care or a lack of love for itself. The sea is poetic and nobody can take that away from us.... The sea is energy just like everything else, but an energy that I would say contracts the different emotions that a human can possess: it is bad, happy, serene, aggressive, calm, sad, rebellious; where in a few words it is an entity full of life, but that stands out in the existential supremacy. And I'm falling short with words. - pablo /sea definition

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Sylvia - I knew what you meant when you talked about swimming in the ocean and leaving your patent leather black shoes pointing towards it, while you swam / It tickled you to leave them there / It was the thought of a young child or of a lost fairy / That reminded me of who I am / That's why I am now at this facility by the ocean / And why I go barefoot and why I go calmly / Why I leave my shoes up by the stairway / I do it for you and I do it for me / Because having learned from others and from you / I learned there was a missing piece to finding existential calmness / And domestic bliss to lead to peace. - Lana Del Rey /complementary music

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All I wanna do is get high by the beach / Get high by the beach, get high / All I wanna do is get by by the beach / Get by, baby, baby, bye bye / The truth is I never bought into your bullshit / When you would pay tribute to me / 'Cause I know that / All I wanted to do was get high by the beach / Get high baby, baby, bye bye. - Lana Del Rey /High by the Beach

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That's all I can offer you now, Pablo of the present. Stay happy, take advantage of the last year of school you have left and the few that can surround you and hug you. What's done is done, time is running out; and as you yourself said, "For me, time is a mother, the womb that gives birth to different adversities or fortunes." So give love to that second mother. - With Love: The Past, Present You /the last one - /interlude

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