I'll Be what I am

"Don't know that I will, but until I can find me






a girl who'll stay and wont play games behind me





Ill be what I am:









a Solitary Man











A Solitary Man"
 
 
Written By Neil Diamond, also recorded by Johnny Cash


Truer words were never spoken.
 
- DM
;)
 
 
 

He's conditioned that way.

Gente y sus hábitos, pero ya no son personales. Ahora hay protocolos, costumbres y todos lo siguen como una gran masa estúpida incapaz de pensar por si misma.


¡O lo hacemos todos o nadie!

¡Absurdo!

¿No pueden innovar? ¿Ser individuales?

¡Y SI! ¡Te estoy hablando a ti! “Yo soy independiente” dices, “yo me expreso de forma personal” “soy una persona única, no me definas”



Y una mierda



Si fueses individual y respetases la individualidad de la gente no me vendrías con:

Tu -¿Que vas a hacer hoy?
Yo -quedarme en casa, estoy cansado
Tu -¡Nunca te diviertes! ¡Sal un rato! ¡Eres un soso!
Yo -¿Porque no aceptas que lo que yo considero divertirse no es lo mismo que tu consideras divertirse
Para ti divertirse es salir por ahí a alguna discoteca, bailar, beber, fumar

A mi eso no me gusta, de hecho lo odio. No soy un soso, me divierto, me lo paso genial pero de forma diferente.

Pero tienes metida en tu cabeza que “divertirse” es hacer lo que tu haces, y el que haga diferente...¡un sosainas!

¡ Sosainas tu que haces todos los fines de semana lo mismo! ¡varia un poco! ¡lee un libro, ve al cine! ¡no es todo ir de botellón!

Y ahí no acaba la cosa, llegamos a las relaciones personales y hay “la forma correcta de pedir salir a alguien” “ la forma correcta de romper con alguien” “la forma correcta de blablablabla”

Es que ahora mismo no estoy list@ para una relación....no eres tu soy yo.....

Tenemos una serie de protocolos, de clichés que todo el mundo sigue. Tu, que vas de independiente, lo que quieres decir es independencia para vestir según una moda diferente a la de otros: punky, gotico, rockero, pijo, independencia de escuchar cierta musica, ver ciertas series....que esta muy bien, no digo que no.

Pero para otras cosas, es imposible que seas mas fascista

No digo que no deba haber normas en el mundo, solo que en algunas cosas, como son materias de opinión, yo creo que podemos reservarnos el derecho a tener la nuestra propia

Al menos en un país libre.

¿No sería mejor que hagamos las cosas del modo que tienen sentido para nosotros, en lugar de como lo hace todo el mundo?
 
-DM

Her Name

Her name means “ to bind” “to captivate” and that is the exact effect she had on him.

Her dark black curls fell gracefully upon her shoulders and looked beautiful against her light skin and chestnut eyes. As he stared at her, no more than a few seconds at a time, he appreciated the beauty of her smile, the passion with which she spoke, the tenacity of her expressions. He knew everything about her was perfect, even the little scar that sat above her left eye, which seemed to adorn her further, rather than disrupt her beauty.

He yearned to know when it had happened and why. He wanted to know if it had hurt or if she had been to young to remember it now. He wanted to know if she had other scars on her body. He wanted to know what she was like, what she liked and what she disliked, what she loved; was it the same things he loved?

He wanted to know what made her thrill, what made her happy, what made her sad. He wanted to know how to make her happy, give her what she wanted and keep her from what she did not want. Give her what she deserved, and yet he knew deep down that she would not take it. Not from him, because what she deserved was much more. More than just him. She was made to be with Princes and Kings, she was born to be the First Lady, or even President in her own right.

And he understood why, because he knew he was not good enough. He had nothing to offer, he did not deserve her, and he accepted the truth because it was more important for him that she was happy and if he had to step aside and let her find a great man, a better man than him, then he would.

He couldn't have her the way he wanted, but he still desired her company, and to his surprise she was capable of tolerating his, so they became friends, and he was happy because he could spend time with her and see her smile, even make her smile, and although there was never anything more he would imagine how it would be like.

He would imagine how he would ask her out, how she would say yes, how he would surprise her on anniversaries, what he would get her for her birthday, how they would sit and watch a DVD on the couch, embracing each other. She would rest her head on his chest and he would set his arms around her shoulders and she would fall asleep. He would kiss her gently on the forehead and cover her with a blanket so she would sleep undisturbed and warm.

He imagined how they would move in together, how he would propose, how their wedding would be like and where they would honeymoon to, what they would name their children, what schools they would send them too, how they would grow old and play with their grandchildren and tell them stories of their youth.

He knew it would never be true, but he enjoyed it nonetheless.

Until one day the end came. She stopped calling, she stopped talking to him. Soon she started ignoring his calls and not returning his messages. Slowly, and yet very suddenly, he became invisible to her. Non-existent. He was a mere speck of dust which she wiped away with a swift and decisive movement.

He did not understand. Had he done something wrong? He knew he wasn’t worth much, but he thought she at least did like his company some of the time.

Some of the time. That was it, he had overdone it. Her nice manners had lead him to a false sense of security, he had thought he was more that he was really worth. Has he really thought he was allowed to talk to her? Be her friend? How stupid had he been!

In his foolishness he had spent more and more time with her, imagining it was more than it really was, and she had found out, or suspected at least and pulled out.

He had been rejected by her before even asking her out.

“That's a new” he thought to himself “Pre-emptive rejection” He laughed at the thought.

He was surprised he could laugh again. All he had thought about for the last few months had been how she had been so scandalised and horrified by a thought of romance between them, how she had said no, how she had grown sick of him and forgotten his existence.

But then he knew why, at least when he thought of those things, he was thinking of her, even if it was in that sense, and that was enough to cheer him. So he thought of her more and realised that even though he had lost her and would never see her again, she would live on, go out with someone, be married, have kids, and live out the dream he had of them together and be happy, and that was what he really wanted, even if she didn't do it with him. He knew then at that time, better than ever before, how much he truly and deeply loved her. 

-DM