infosoldier.com

oh shi~

What the fuck's wrong with me? O h yeah... Mental instability... Insane...

Am I?

I am "functioning" properly. I guess. I woke up early (despite being up late, yesterday). I woke up my daughter early too. She's with me this weekend. I wanted to get McDees Deluxe Breakfast for both of us. So we did that. But wait, before that she didn't want to brush her teeth. So I performed fatherly duties and looked all stern-faced and commanded her to go brush her teeth...

So we went through the drive-tru... Hehehe... And as always they fuck something up with the order. I kind of expect it nowadays. I didn't even get angry. I just thought, "Well, they only charged me for one 32 oz. orange juice so when I get home I'll split it up with the Lil miss. Everything will be hunky dory..." Is that how it's spelled? "Hunky dory"?

We had breakfast...

While watching Family Guy...

Thank goodness my daughter didn't understand the more mature jokes.

We finish breakfast and she gets her Nintendo DS right away... I keep on browsing the Internet...

And right then I feel this sudden urge to cry...

And all I can guess is, "Well, that is it. My mind finally snapped. They are gonna carry you away and put you in the looney bin. Wooo wooo wooo!"

But I quell the urge to cry. I bark orders at the brain to stop this insanity immediately! Or else!

Or else, what?

Well, the daughter is here. Do you want her to see you cry? She worries about you you know? You may think she doesn't notice, but she does. Yes, she does.

Tears are gone. Tears were never really there, in fact.

I start writing this up. Trying to capture the essence of the moment. Trying to... Let the steam escape in another way.

I am almost finished writing. I look at the other tabs in the browser and realize what I read that almost made me cry:

"Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me"

And I realized what my brain was thinking without me even consciously realizing it:

I no longer dream about being loved...

Mi primo Pirulo tenia un Nova del '76 que le llamaba La Bestia.

Aquel Nova alguna vez había sido negro, pero ahora el Bondo™ le rondaba rojo, chinita y rosita por todos lados. Aquel Nova había cogido además de moho muchos cantazos en la calle. Quien se le hacia un corte de pastelillo a aquel Nova lo hacia solo una vez. Aquel Nova injurioso fue el primer carro que yo guié en una calle oficial del estado de Puerto Rico.

Pirulo me enseñó que aquel armatoste de carro que pesaba una tonelada y estaba hecho de acero era

"... fácil de controlar. Los carros tu los controlas igual que tu controlas a las mujeres... Con un dedo."

Claro, el Nova tenía power steering.

Pirulo era una bestia. Un mastodonte de hombre que aparte de la barriga cervecera era todo musculo; producto de poca escuela y muchos años de trabajos de construcción pese a ser poco mas viejo que yo. El que fuera poco educado no significa que comandara poca admiración de mi parte. Yo ya me había convertido en un mama's boy que poco despegaba la vista de libros, enciclopedias, periódicos; y ya tenia un interés marcado en el mundo virtual de las computadoras. Pirulo era uno de mis pocos enlaces con el mundo "real". Pirulo había corrido bastante, bebía y fumaba y sabrá dios que mas, había ido a los niuyores y había tenido par de jevas... or so he said.

Pirulo me ayudo a conseguir mi primer trabajo "real". También, otro día, Pirulo, mi hermano, y yo, por poco nos montamos en La Bestia para ir a matar a la mujer de mi hermano. Pero esas son historias para otro día.

Pirulo me dijo un día:

"Te quiero."

Y yo que ya para aquel entonces sabía lo que era un gay (especialmente porque algunos de mis primos estaban declaraos y otros estaban en el closet) le dije:

"Cabrón, vete pa'l carajo!"

Y el me contestó:

"Tu eres familia. Familia es amor. No matter what... Por eso te quiero."

Su lógica era innegable. Aun así yo no pude entender sus palabras por muchos muchos años.

Y hace muchos años que no veo a mi primo Pirulo. Indudablemente, mi notoria incapacidad de mantener lazos afectivos ha tenido algo que ver en eso. Pero cuando lo vea lo primero que le diré sera...

— the information soldier sometimes learns slowly

Veinte diez. Dos mil diez. Nuevo año, nueva vida. Feels ironic somehow...

Ciento noventa. Uno. Nueve. Cero. Son los días que llevo... llevaba... sin escribir en el blog.

Como dice Vico-C en Aquel Que Había Muerto:

Leo un corréo electrónico. Me lo envía un ex compañero de trabajo. De cuando inútilmente me daba de con las paredes intentando mejorar al país. De cuando recibía porrazos, bien merecidos, de aquellos que habían venido antes de mi. De aquellos que sabían que esto no lo mejora nadie.

Me acordé. Porque había empezado yo a escribir el blog. Para el desahogo personal. Para aflojar la creatividad usando la escritura. Para hablar de lo único de lo cual creí que estaba cualificado para hablar. De mi.

Pero...

El desahogo...

El desahogo fue la razón principal.

...

...

Es tiempo de volver...

So, um, fellow boriblogger Rafi Torres tagged me in his 7 Things You May Not Know About Me meme post. I really dislike "forced" memes and never participate in stuff like this. I will comply because... well, because Rafi has made me laugh too much on Twitter, because I'm trying to be a good citizen of the twitter/boriblogger community and because I told myself to do things differently this year. I will however not tag anyone else because I like to see grown memes die. Yes, I am insensitive and charming! ;-)

Here goes nothing:

1. Perhaps because of my upbringing I have lived a rather sterile life. I've never gotten drunk into unconsciousness, never smoked a cigarette. I have never been imprisoned and I rode a police car once because my cousin, a policeman, was driving it. I've only been out of Puerto Rico once. I've never done no drugs. I've never been disloyal to my wife or paid for a prostitute. All this "correctness" sometimes grates on me.
2. I remember the last time I confessed to a priest. It was the day before my wedding. I told the priest in no uncertain terms that I did not believe in god. The priest absolved me, but gave me no penitence. Perhaps he knew it would have been moot.
3. For those of you who've only known me on Twitter: I am not bold and funny. In real life I am shy, serious, and downright boring. However, if I get to know you and trust you then maybe maybe I'll be different...
4. Also for the people on twitter: I do not believe any of the good things I say about myself. I don't think I'm smart or intelligent, confident or capable, not even humble and certainly not brave.
5. I always buy the cheapest clothes possible. I know that clothes make the man. But I have no idea how to make myself look better, so I don't even try.
6. I am a somewhat well controlled (digital) packrat. I have thousands of comic books. Hundreds of books. Almost every mainstream video game console made and all the video games I have ever bought. I have hundreds of thousands of Japanese AV and gravure idol pictures. I have gigs of digitized video, pictures, books, music, games and whathaveyou... Just. Like. All. Of. You!
7. I used to go fishing with my dad at Isla de Cabras... For all the whinnying I do about my father I have to say we did spend some good times together. I remember always falling asleep on the way home while listening to Quique y Tomás... And that's all I gots to say about that...

And there you have it. Seven things that, perhaps, you didn't know about me. Seven true things. And for being true they are absolutely boring and uninteresting, the same as my life. That's why I tend to "enhance" the truth when I write on my blog... To try and make it interesting.

Now excuse me while I go get high, steal a cop car, fuck some whores and knock off some gas stations!

the information soldier is the filthy by-product of clean living...