infosoldier.com

This is me, This is me. What do you see?
This is me, falling apart...
This is me, thinking of you
Wishing that you, wanted me too
But it doesn't happen, I don't want it to happen
Because in the end,
I fall apart

This is me, This is me, telling the truth
Like I always do, like I always do
This is me, telling you secrets
The ones that I swore, I wouldn't reveal
I know, I know, that I'm a bad man
Because in the end,
I fall apart

I try, I try, I'm trying so hard
To live, to work, to grow in your mind
I wonder, I wonder if it doesn't matter
If the stars in the sky, really do happen
We live, we love, we touch one another
But what will we do,
when all falls apart?

I tell myself, I must be better for you
But someway, somehow,
I keep getting worse off.
Remember, remember, remember the pieces?
The ones that I told belonged just to you
I don't know where they are
But I know you don't have them
Because in the end...

I fell apart

I've been developing quite a few friendships using Google's instant messaging program GTalk. Conversations range from the technical to the trivial, from the sublime all the way into the nasty.

I would like to put up here some of the stuff I say privately hoping that some of you may appreciate it.

Of course, the identity and responses of my interlocutors will remain private (unless they choose to reveal it in the comments) and I hope they forgive my copypasta... (http://www.urbandictionary.com is a wonderful thing, use it!)

If you want to talk to me through GTalk, you can do so through Gmail Chat or downloading and installing the full GTalk program (http://www.google.com/talk/), it's all free. Once you got the app or the GMail account search for an option that says "Add Contact" or just "Add" and put my address in it afreytes [at] gmail [dot] com

Without further ado, I leave you with the following:

Reading your message about Lilo & Stitch made me remember something:

When I was a teen I didn't always want to be home because my father was an alcoholic. He wasn't physically violent but he was mentally abusive with everyone in the house.

Anyway, when ever I didn't want to go home right away I went a couple of houses down to the house of my sister's godfather...

They took me in like any other family member, gave me food and advice... And my sister's godfather taught me how to play "oriental" Dominoes... For years I spent countless nights playing that, and he was a master of it!

From this big crotchety chair he would trounce us all!

He died years later... But in my teen mind I guess I didn't feel the loss at all... Until some months later "madrina" (his wife) pointed to my sister's godfather's chair and told me to pick the chair up "Put it round back, where I won't see it."

So I did, I picked it up and went around the back of the house... And when I put it down I felt it... All the loss and sorrow that I could not identify before, that I wasn't mature enough to recognize... And when I put it down I felt weak and had to grasp the arms of the chair so as not to fall down into it...

My vision was blurred

It was the second time I ever cried for a dead person...

I know it's not a feel good story, Im sorry. But I'll try to make up for it in a few seconds

You see... even though we may miss people and family they are always with us if we honor their memory... I really believe in this even though I am not a religious person...

Just take into your heart the good things you have learned from them... and in your situation... I think you will do well to remember that even though you are leaving... I am sure they will be there for you when you need it...

That is all...

This is what I got on "obsessive-repeat" right now. Daydream In Blue by I Monster

I dunno if my geek card should be revoked or what, cuz I still haven't seen The Dark Knight.
Dark Knight Cruel Joke

No puedo dormir...

No hay nadie a quien molestar en el twitter. El GTalk esta desolado y el Skype... El Skype me ha fallado desde el principio. Entonces facebook, que se ve muy bonito pero tiene la mente cerrada, solo sirve para ver como mis antiguos compañeros de escuela se ven igual de feos que yo... Ahh, time! The great equalizer!

Me puse a entretener el cerebro sacando cuentas. Del tiempo que gasto a diario trabajando, y como voy a cambiar eso esta semana ya que el jefe está molesto por que los consultores están llegando tarde. Nada, que el regaño al fin y al cabo redundará en gastar una hora más en tapones al día... Y una hora menos en el trabajo.

No entiendo porque alguien preferiría que sus empleados lleguen quince minutos más temprano y que trabajen una hora menos al día. Pero bueno, en la vida no todo es lógico.

No, me equivoco. En la vida muy pocas cosas son lógicas.

Ya mismo tendré que salir al tapón diario, y gracias al jefe, experimentar todavía más de esa peregrinación especial por las calles de Puerto Rico. Hay personas que me dicen que en otros países guían peor que aquí. Ninguna de esas personas lleva diez años guiando de Toa Alta a San Juan...

Es que al igual que mi casa, donde las sillas y sillones no son para sentarse, en Puerto Rico las carreteras y los expresos no son para los autos móviles.

Donde no hay hoyos inmensos, hay reductores de velocidad que retarían a cualquier atleta olímpico. En temporada de escuela los padres sobre protectores ponen a sus hijos en peligro parándose abruptamente en medio de la calle. Los chamacos y nenitas, por aquello de que nadie puede hacerles daño, se tiran a cruzar las calles sin mirar. Mis preferidos son los tumultos de madres que no trabajan y se quedan frente a la escuela bochinchando, pero igual ocupando el espacio por donde se supone vayan los autos. Mas adelante otro tumulto, esta vez de trabajadores que están ligando a las susodichas madres. Hombres burdos y de cuerpos anchos que tienen una palabra soez rápida en la boca, a veces me gustaría saber que es lo que comen. Y que hay de esos policías; uniformados que de muy mala manera aspiran a dirigir el transito? Así como los policías aspiran a dirigir, hay otros que aspiran a moverse siguiera: Algunos porque el auto está tan viejo que a duras penas puede moverse; otros porque ellos mismos están tan viejos que a duras penas pueden ver lo que está pasando en la carretera. Si, lo sé. Algún día me convertiré en uno de esos viejolos en un carro destartalado. Pero por lo pronto, no me quedo yo libre de pecado, soy uno de esos "conductores agresivos" de esos que guían rápido y hacen cortes de pastelillo... I don't like it; any more than you men...

Que no daría yo por un teletransportador de esos de Star Trek que me enviara inmediatamente al trabajo y por la noche a la vuelta!

Pero no. Hay que joderse para llegar al trabajo. Y hoy tendré que joderme una hora completa más. Y todo para llegar quince minutos mas temprano...

El otro día fui a ver HellBoy en el Caribbean Cinemas de Plaza Del Sol. Yo me pregunto como puede ser posible que las mentes jóvenes de nuestro país se interesen en crear cine; cuando la experiencia de ver una película en los cinetreatros locales es TAN mala!

Como es posible que se vea más claro y con más detalle un trailer de película una porquería de televisor análogo en mi casa donde incluso la señal de televisión es malísima, que en una sala de teatro! Coño, no es que yo sea un maldito tacaño, pero si pago por algo quiero obtener el justo valor por mi dinero. Es un absoluto robo que uno tenga que pagar casi veinte pesos por "ver" una película en estos días! Y no es Plaza Del Sol nada más, en Río Hondo hay una sala donde la pared donde se proyectan los filmes tiene una mancha de refresco hacen años! Años! Esa mancha de refresco tiene más años que mi hija!

Será que es que los cines que más cerca me quedan son los peores en Puerto Rico?

Coño, y no me hagan hablar de los fuckin anuncios... Se acomoda uno, llama por el celular, se come el popcorn (que te lo venden viejo, y a veces con carne*), se bebe uno to el refresco, va uno al baño, regresa, se da un grajeo, se molesta uno con la pareja... y todavía falta el anuncio pa que se callen que ahora va a empezar la película por fín...

Puñeta con tanto anuncio la película debiera salir de gratis!

Nada; que ir al cine en puerto rico solo vale la pena dependiendo con quien uno vaya...

*gorgojos

I'll try to keep it short...

I had been asking myself; if somehow twitter could be made more interesting, if not for others, at least for me. But, don't get me wrong! I love twitter (as long as the failwhale is nowhere to be seen). I thought about doing a novel or a novelette, or some sort of similar narrative. However, the efforts I had seen in a similar vein made by other (better writers than me!) seemed no to be too cohesive. To my mind they seemed to drift... never to gain any traction in my mind and generate enough interest for me to go and pick up the missed tweets that inevitably came up in the timeline.

As I was asking myself the same question, or it was more like a command (Make twitter more interesting!), I also saw that my number of tweets was steadily climbing (I've gotten addicted to twitter!). First, I wanted to reach two thousand tweets as fast as possible; but when I reached 1949 tweets I thought: "Hey! Wouldn't it be cool to make a novel where each tweet comprised one year of time in the story?" Obviously, the year 1950 could provide plenty of starting ground to make an interesting novel. Obviously the challenge is to write the novel fast enough so that people and I didn't loose interest after the first couple tweets. The problem was, I only knew the starting year for the novel. But how many tweets would it take? How many "years"? And this is where I thought about the other problem which twitter novels have... They seem to go on forever, to be ongoing... And that goes counter to twitter's philosophy of 140 characters at a time... A.K.A:= Keep It Short Stupid!! (The twitter culture's KISS)

And then it hit me... Why not a biography? Each tweet is each year in the person's life... But who to write it about? I've never researched anyone in my life, for real. So the obvious choice was myself... Just another average IT geek, with an idea that perhaps has not been tried before. A twitter auto biography. A twittbio, a fellow twitter called it.

Since twitter is also crowdsourcing at it's best; of course I consulted with my fellow twitterer's about the idea...

About the format of tweets I came up with:

tweet/year# year summary or personal recollection. #man #event #technology #book|movie|song #woman

And about keeping it under 40 tweets... Short, sweet and manageable

They said... Go for it!

And here it goes!

P.S.: I'm having a bitch of a time writing the tweets for the 80's!

P.P.S.: I know that perhaps there is no actual relationship between the number of tweets I've made and the way twitter represents it's data. But hey, let's not be so picky!