I know this may have become a kind of annoying theme but once again my has sister has been crying over her tumultuous relationship since Saturday and at this point me and my mother have ran out of anecdotes, opinions and debate phrases to say to her, last thing that happened is that they began having small talk once again over the past week but at the mere mention of my sister’s ever elusive “conclusive talk” the guy vented a little bit to her about his life problems as of late, reiterated that he wasn’t feeling all that well and that he still needed space not only from his relationship but also from everything going out in his life, the conversation concluded with the revelation that he is planning on emigrating to Australia on some work related stuff so he explicitly told her that no matter what happens and specially if he ends up going abroad, he doesn’t think the relationship is gonna work any more.
We all know it is kinda hard to accept love related heartbreaks, the nature of the height of the feeling makes the fall reach equivalent or even deeper lows when the disaster of unlove happens, but it think that the time when one is under utmost darkness makes staring at even the dimmest of light an experience of flinching to the glare. The reality of unlove is the realization of incompatibility and one must stare at it until that fact gets burned into one’s retinas. It is the act of weighing the feelings in mutual history, with the amount in difference being irrelevant to the real question of “Do i really like carrying this weight?”. There’s this one verse in a really good song i fist listened not so long ago by Stereosity named “Sprout” where the lyrics say:
So cleanse and weigh This dirt stuck in my brain Consolidate All these sheets that have buried me To taste the weight To clean this blood off my plate
And whenever i listen to it i… am able to understand what it is actually required to get over a heartbreak, or instead fall deeper into it.
I became more sure of this when i was talking some days ago with with my friend who i used to be in love with, they said some words that made me realize the reason why i really fell out of love with them and that is the blindness i’ve felt from them to the romantic love i gave, even if by real or fake ignorance the fact that my love at most felt like a nuisance and at worse felt like insignificance, the moments i thought where special between us where nothing more than another monday to them to the point that even i started to think about them as such, but of course being as i am in my stubbornness i remained unmoving. I’ve talked about the “Nobody has ever done this for me”s but lately i’ve heard from them such things as “Nobody’s ever said that to me” and that of course hurts even if the pain is not so poignant for me to say anything back at them but last time there was something that made me realize just how blind they where to me. I talked about the main topic of that conversation over here, the thought of wanting someone to “Love me whole” and at some point during the conversation words of need transformed into words of desire, when they uttered “I just want to feel like someone…idk, i just want to feel like someone is willing to die for me” and immediately my heard flashed back to a time where i was rejected by them to which i responded to by just keep on loving even if my target was way out of reach just for them to later in life tell me those words i’ve repeated more than once. To the act of loving in spite of adversity the question was “Are you a masochist? I don’t understand.”
So i remembered those words while hearing about the desire of deadly attraction, i came back to multiple times where the only stone left in my world was the one i had build with the love i felt for someone and of the phantom of different eras, fresh off having melted my love in the air of ignorance, i responded back with dim light. Then i once again became resolute in the fact that i was incapable of loving that person.
Thought of the Day
Just how many times my desires have made me blind to the colored sprites beside me?
Again, was too tired yesterday from a lot of stuff i had to do in the day so while listening to music while on bed while also thinking about stuff my eyes closed from 11 pm to 2 am, cool!
Yesterday i talked with one of my besties about and about some things that’s been bugging them about their partner lately, they found out through some _questionable_ means that their partner has… certain sexual tendencies that they hadn’t told them about before, said tendencies or should i say fetishes? are not really things that my friend has or does, in fact they are quite on the other whole spectrum so inevitably they stared feeling bad about it. Things like “I know they like me but, do they actually WANT me?” started appearing in their head and the replication of it on the daily had them feeling lost. I of course know that feeling, i have discussed many a times how i feel when my perception of what others have as the perception of me differs but when the whole thing also revolvers around someone’s likes or dislikes well… i think that’s when you have to compare each other’s natures and see how really compatible both are. I remember saying something like this to them: “Well you can see it as that you do not tick their ideal partner boxes, but you can also flip it and see it as if they do not tick your ideal partner boxes, ’cause if that’s a turnoff then you are not feeling bad because of nothing” or something like that.
Of course i am no magic shaman capable of curing any illnesses and heart pains just by talking to you nor i am a magic psychologist capable of science-ing the hell out of your brain to make you feel any better so whenever i talk with people about things like this i end up feeling like i am not helping enough to justify being talked to but as of late my conversations with that friend are ending on the note of “I like talking to you ’cause those mushy feelings and anxieties i have end up going away while we laugh about it”, so i guess that’s enough for me.
Speaking about feelings and stuff, yesterday, after writing tuesday’s diary entry (the one about my internet footprint and about that weird person that posted my photo) while talking with my partner about it i came to me to do a little nostalgic trip through the many pages i’ve had over the years in the internet and so in thinking about that i though about looking around my oldest mail address, filter my mails from oldest to newest and see what it came up. Most of it notifications of conversations on posts on facebook, most of them where from an old school fb group i had with my classmates back in 2010 so there’s a lot of stuff like “Yo! What was the math homework again?” or things like “Please remember to go in the P.E uniform on friday, or else they’ll get mad at me”. It was really nostalgic seeing not only all those messages with the horrible orthography and with the terrible typing ability that was so characteristic about that era of the internet, so i was reading them to my partner and i was reminiscing about them and telling some anecdotes about my school days to her when i came across a email coming from my Father and i didn’t remember what i was about so i opened it just to see a Powerpoint presentation with funny images of the time alongside a message that said “Hahahaha, isn’t it so funny? ahaha, Love you! Sincerely: Dad” and man, just reading it stung like a bee, seconds later memories of having received those emails came back to me with the reality of the time being that i was in my rebellious phase so i never had actually replied to them so i started feeling a little bad after that, i kept scrolling through my emails just to find more and more of the same style of email coming from my dad, things like “Hey, how about we go out to play basketball together?” or “Here’s an invitation i scanned for a party at the family bussiness, wanna go?” and so on… and… i started feeling awful, i’ve always thought about what i did while in my rebellious phase and about all of the pain and trouble i caused my parents as nothing more than the proof of my incompetence as a human being, but one thing is being conscious of that and another is having your mind and body experience the reverberations of that curse being once again casted uppon oneself in the form of a phantom coming out from an email. So while reading all of that i… started crying, i felt so bad, i fell so bad at the fact that there was someone trying with all their might and love and patience to connect with me all the while i was so focused on the rage at the world i was feeling, i had tossed aside love.
So in that moment i muted myself from the call and went looking for my Father but alas, it was 3 am and he was asleep so i had to wait until morning just to… apologize, apologize for being such a dumb stupid kid. The day later while having dinner i finally told him about how i was looking around old emails and that i had found theirs, i told him about how i felt and about how extremely awful i was feeling about having tossed him aside, i apologized for everything. He of course remembered the emails and told me about how yes, it was one of the efforts he was making in connecting with me at a time they didn’t know what to do about my rebellion, he even remembered about the emails having been sent via an old corporate email they had back when the family business was bigger. It all ended with me apologizing once again, we both hugging each other and then us sharing a half eaten hamburger… now that i think about it, we also used to apologize like that back in the day, how funny.
Though of the Day
More than any other way of communication, mails and their digital equivalent are able to carry the weight of feelings, they are able to record the process of understanding. Maybe that’s the reason why they are slower than chats or voice calls, because they are heavier.
Today while looking around facebook for some work related stuff one of those annoying “Remember this?” type of automated posts came about to me in the form of a photo of 2012 me (i was 14-15 at the time) with the caption of “Kawaiioso～ *3*”, the thing is that i wasn’t me that posted the photo but rather someone who’s name i didn’t really recognize at all.
At that time i used to be really active on otaku and otaku related facebook groups where people all arround latam would discuss stuff and post anime images with that old style mark in the form of ascii kaomojis and uwu ewe .3. styled attitude, i became acquainted with such groups due to my perceived lack of otaku culture around my area, my friends barely knew what anime was and being seen around and about wearing whatever thing that alluded to it was seen as cringe behaviour so of course i turned to the internet for that sweet sense of belonging. Groups around that era mainly revolved around a weirdly extinct type of role-playing where each and everyone played the chat as if we where physically in a room, it wasn’t uncommon for each member of the group to voice their opinion, role play as a cat or some kawaii creature or DO CAPSLOCK ANNOUNCEMENTS OF WHATEVER THEY WHERE DOING all in a single chat room that extended beyond the digital horizon so, chat commodities like replying or image sharing where yet to be born and so if you wanted to refer to something someone said you had to go way back in the chat room, then mention them alongside their message and hope that they where looking at the message cascade for it to reach them. When i think about it i feel really nostalgic about it, now in the era of online normality and complacency chatting with one another feels devoid of the magic that making an efford to chat brought to the table in that era, couple that with the fact that most of the people used to role play their interactions it all resulted in the sense of something more than simple text sharing between strangers, it kinda felt like the chat itself was alive in a sense, and i kinda miss that. (Fun fact, for my Discord server i implemented a similar style of chat, in the sense that there’s only 1 channel for everything so if you want to refer to something someone said years ago you have to go looking for it).
I kinda lost the track of what i was talking about, let me steer myself back, so in searching for who was the person that posted that photo on their profile i visited their main page and opened up our chat just to find… stuff that i had forgotten ever happening. Our chat history wasn’t really that long and even after reading it me and that person didn’t really seem that close to each other, most of our conversations didn’t really went anywhere and they all stayed at the most basic (by otaku of the era standards i mean) topics so i was really confused as to why would i send a photo to them and as to why they had posted it with that caption, so i kept going up the conversation until i found something really… weird, it went something like this:
“No you are not! D;” “xDD You’re wrong” “¬n¬” “Why do you say that?” “I don’t believe you, you must be really cute w” “Ah… my girlfriend says i am but she is my girlfriend so i think she’s biased” “Well i think your girlfriend is right x3” “Send me some pics x3” “o3o i don’t really think i have one… wait i do have one” “Then send it to me xD” “Wait a bit… here it is xd” “You are so cuteeeeeeeeeeeeee～ o3o! *saves it*” “Hey! =3= I’m not cute at all” “Yeah you are QwQ” “*r-pes him and flees*” “._.” “Sorry xDU”
As i said, i don’t really know the reason why we where talking about that, maybe i was sulking about my physical appearance in the group chat and they replied to me in private? idk. Anyways, let’s address both of those big ass elephants in the room, first is the fact that they mentioned the R word without a care in the world, of course by my reaction to it i supposed i felt uncomfortable at the time but then i kept chatting with them as if nothing had happened, by what i remember being at that time the most likely situation was that i didn’t really care at all as i knew they where just joking and i treated it as that but still now reading it almost 15 years later i find that type of conversation so… weird, and i remembered that the normalization of something as r*pe even if a joke was so common at that time like if we all thought about it as nothing more than a joke that you would say to your friends, it is weird and i as i write this what i find more weird is that i probably would have thought much about it at the time to the point of my memory of it being completely absent from my mind now.
The second elephant i want to pet is the fact that i was naive enough to send photos of me to an internet stranger, even if we probably had known each other for a time through a group chat and even if i knew they where not even in my country i still question the decision of my chronophantasma as a careless ignorance of internet security, thankfully nothing ever happened and nowadays sharing photos of yourself on the internet is seen as something completely normal but thinking about as to why did someone like me, someone who’s had a hard time with photos throughout all of his life, wouldn’t even blink an eye to a request like that… and i think i found an answer for it.
It was all because even at that time, internet felt like home.
Thought of the Day
“I wonder, how many other chronophantasmas i’ve yet to meet?”
In keeping with the theme of the indoctrinated violent tendencies and normalization of its portrayal in our culture this time i want to talk about what actually leads to someone being optimally receptive and acceptor of it as the normality by exposing what you may already know as the root cause of most of our worlds problems: Ignorance.
Recent elections this year in Colombia resulted in the war mongering fascist adjacent candidate being chosen over the socialist one. Me, as you might have imagined due to the content of this here diary lean more to the humanist side of the political spectrum going contrary to what most of my family believes and so we have clashed time and time again when the topic comes to the surface, my family believes in a mostly meritocratic society where people get what is just for them in accordance to their “efforts”, i put in quotes because if you think about it for a second you’ll be able to see that effort is as subjective as taste in the sense that no two human beings in this world would be able to sense them equally, as a neurodivergent person that has struggled all of his life to get thing the “right way” i can take account of how difficult it is to categorize the efforts I’ve made through all my life and compare them to, for example, my friends. For my part i am mostly concerned about the well being of people so i tend to see social programs and government meddling as the most “fair” equalizing factor, i put in quotes because if you know even if just a little bit of history then you know that corruption is rampant even in the best cases, but i still believe that there’s no bigger group of people that can be held accountable as much as a local government so in them should rest the responsibility of an overseer.
Colombia, for those who don’t know, is one of the world’s most unequal countries and i have been able to see that for most of my life. I was born into a pretty well adjusted family, born a son of a big family business and so i was raised having almost everything i wanted although i wouldn’t say that my family didn’t have to make efforts to purchase whatever commodities we needed but never did we had to settle for nothing at all, we could afford a car, a house, vacation trips, electronics, food, a good neighborhood and much more but somewhere around 2018 due to some stuff i’d rather not say we where left with less than half of what we used to have so we ended up cutting a lot of expenses, around that same time i was also beginning to attend Hikarien for my japanese lessons and so i had to start taking public transit instead of relying in my parents or a chouffeur and as i was not used at all and also because of my recently adquired status as a semi-hikki (i only went out for japanese lessons and nothing else) i tended to get lost and be overwhelmed in the sea of roads and street numbers, at the time i also had two classmates at hikarien who became pretty close to me and so they started teaching me about how to move arround the city and stuff and i remember one day one of them invited me to their home to study and grab something to eat while we where at it and so i ended up accepting and so we ended up walking to their home which was located in a popular neighborhood around the city center, on the way there while walking we ended up talking about our motives for learning japanese, i told him about my fascination for Japanese music and their lyrics and my imperative need for understanding it’s lyrics, in return they told me about what they where aiming most for, taking care of their mother by securing a job overseas in the food industry as he had already graduated from gastronomy school but found local jobs to not pay enough to take care of themselves and their mother, he also confessed to me that Japanese and consequently japan was not their first option as they already had learned Russian language skills but try as they might they couldn’t secure a good sponsorship visa so they tried their luck with japan, i remember walking while listening to their words and me thinking about how much our reasons differed from each other, i was just a kid trying to suffice his whims but they where thinking about not only their future but also their mothers. And so, we arrive at their home and man… it was a life changing experience, from the entrance of a hostel, going right into the deep back of an alleyway, going up some half built stairs there it lied a wooden door that didn’t fit it’s frame, crossing it revealed what i can barely describe as a two rooms lazily divided by a half wall that didn’t even reached half of its way to the other wall… and nothing else, just that, just two rooms that looked more like one, a window, a half a kitchen sink with a stove and a bathroom, the whole thing wouldn’t even reach 10 squared meters.
On their floor lied two mattress covered in blankets, no bed frame, leaving almost no place to sit in beside the bed, on one of them there was also my friends mother who while looking full of life but tired as hell tried their hardest to greet me before lying once again, my friend made me sit on top their bed while they accommodated their stuff, sitting there i would look up at the ceiling just to be greeted by tin, just tin and nothing else, currently i don’t really remember what i was thinking about at that time, maybe i was so shocked that i didn’t really have any thoughts at all or maybe i was reliving my time at a spiritual retreat outside civilization that i went with my mother on one of my birthdays (don’t really remember which one) but alas i didn’t say much and i tried not looking around too much either, i kind of felt bad, in many such ways i felt bad, i felt bad that my situation that i was ever trying to reduce my life to what others lived as consequence of nothing of their choice, i felt bad that in my ignorance i could have never recognize a place such as that as a home, so much that i even felt destitute of my right to look around, i just felt bad.
Soon we ended up leaving alongside our learning material to near restaurant in which we had dinner while finishing our homework and while also practicing banal conversation and restaurant related lingo, and as soon as that, i ended up leaving home.{
Whenever i hear someone talk about meritocracy or whenever i hear the blatant display of ignorance that is the words “Poor people are poor because they like it that way” i inevitably remember my friends home and i cannot help to feel anything other than disdain for whomever says those harsh words, even if i know they where full of life and that they both where trying their best to get out of there, even if i know the act of fighting for ones well being is in itself part of the process of being happy and even if i know for sure there is people that have it even worse than then at that time, i still believe that in a world of riches people should not be living under the petty pressure of others in their presumed “lack of effort”.
Though of the Day
Last time i saw them was in a photo while basking in the Russian winter, white covering their face, yellow covering mine.
Although I’ve always been a procrastinator at heart (let’s be honest, we all are to some degree) i am one of the kind that measures it’s time and relative productivity by really toxic metrics, that as to mean that if I’m not doing something i feel like i’m losing my time.
Normally that hasn’t been a real problem for me outside of the boundaries of my self esteem, I’ve always occupied my time with that something be it one of my silly little projects, be it translations, drawings, writing, music archeology or research into pedagogy (yes even though i have no plans to go back into teaching, idk maybe that became a habit that’ll disappear later) and work related stuff i have no real time to be in stillness, i really feel the urge inside of my being of doing whatever crosses my mind, but to be real with you that has not been like that for much of my life. I still remember the time when i became a hiki when i would spend most of my time in bed thinking about dying while i watched the life drain from my skin as the minutes of the day passed, and i also remember the day i first listened to Shinsei Kamattechan’s Ikareta Neet and me being so intrigued by this artist i stared to read about Noko’s life and i began thinking “Maybe i just need to share my pain” and then i began streaming daily with the sole motto of “Just do whatever you think is cool”. That turned into what i would describe as the most “fun” years of my life, while on the day i would be the most moody dude you would have ever seen, by night i was sharing my silly Precure drawings while listening to kawaii af music to maybe 1 viewer at a time that maybe said “hello” every 10 minutes, that turned into me looking into more cute shows that turned into me watching Doremi for the first time and then falling in love with it so much that i decided to learn japanese (and yall know how that turned out) while later watching Yumeiro Patissiere and then falling in love with it so much that i decided to learn how to Patissier (And yall know how that turned out) and…well, you get the idea. “The world only moves when you do” -Famiky, while crying in a corner, 2026.
I write about this because there’s something that ticked me off slightly about my time with my partner when she was here and that’s that… that i feel that i cannot be really “productive” around her, and i don’t mean it as a complaint about her in any way but it’s just that maybe my condition as a hyperactive neurodivergent goblin conflicts with her way of life in the sense that she is one to take her time for everything she does while I’m the type to constantly tap my feet while sitting in a chair. That leads to situations like whenever we have an appointment somewhere i always end up pushing her a little so that we arrive as early as we can (I’m really careful about my and other people’s time), all the while she says stuff like “I’m always late, but I’ll always show up”. Making us a little bit incompatible in that sense.
Usually i don’t mind that at all, i believe people have their own rhythm of life and that one should always strive to do things at the pace one is most comfortable with in order to do them as uniquely as one does, but when it comes to relationships and spending time together i always end up having to apply little breaks to myself that inevitably end up making me feel uncomfortable, i guess that is another bad trait that i have in that regard but i also believe that discomfort came about due to the “special occasion” of that whole situation, but that inevitably makes me think about stuff like “What if we lived together? Could i still be as i am while being like that?” and sadly i end up reaching the conclusion that the “me” that functions best is the one that appears only while sealed in a box of walls with no windows, i am of the nature of being alone.
I guess i’ll still believe in the “special occasion” part, i don’t believe myself to be completely incapable of being a working human (Artist) being while there’s another person in the room with me, as an example as a fun project both my partner and i translated the whole first volume of Author Akiko Higashimura’s first serialization “Kisekae Yuka-chan” while on discord calls and it was extremely fun! She did the clean-up and i did the translation and every time we finished a chapter we would do proofreading while acting with silly voices while reading the dialogue, hahaha, man i should get to typeset it and release it soon.
So i guess that my conclusion is that whenever your life rhythm does not synchronize with your partner’s the dissonance hurts deeper than your ears.
Apology of the Day
I had to do work stuff really early in the morning yesterday so when i arrived home i feel asleep right away and woke at like 1:20 am, sorry about missing that day’s entry 😦
Hello again, this time I’ll be talking about VIOLENCE… yeah, exciting stuff.
As i was saying last time, living here in Colombia makes you a little bit desensitized to hearing about danger and violence while also making you extremely attentive to your surroundings in search of signals of danger, I’ve mentioned someone i knew having been killed for opposing a robbery but also through my childhood one could hear pretty often about kidnappings for extortion money, constant publicity for newspapers featuring all kinds of violent altercations that had occurred in town in their covers and headlines, constant monitoring of one’s surroundings/neighborhood to the point of many people people i know of that are able to distinguish the pop sound from a motorcycle engine from a gunshot, and never mind the constant and i mean CONSTANT idolization of P*blo *scobar in most media that features anything about my country.
You may think that i must live in a pretty hellish side of the country… and you are not wrong about it but i want to make the distinction that even when we (the people that live here) are surrounded by so much violence everyday the boundary that has to be crossed for it to be unlivable has not been crossed, we still live happy lives over here, neighboring children can still play around outside without it being that big of a deal, people can still go outside at midnight for cycling activities and bars and stuff without it being completely lethal and even recently a lot of 24 hour service Bakehouses have been popping through town (When my partner was here we would frequently the one closes to my home because we’d suddenly get a horrble itch for sweet stuff deep into the night while watching a movie), and even though i’ve become used to hearing about all of this stuff… well i think i’ve had enough? Don’t get me wrong i’m not gonna turn a blind eye to the societal and cultural issues we have over here but i don’t wanna live so desensitized of other people’s misfortune, i can’t remember the last time i’ve truly felt sorry for some other’s bad day over the live news and i could say that i want to be able to cry for each and every soul among those but the reality of it is that it’s hard to shed tears over an nonexistent bond. So i’ve decided to first: stop consuming so much live news media (even though i don’t consider myself as someone who consumes it much, even just a tiny bit of it can poison your brain). And two: To stop fighting over things i cannot control… this may read pretty weirdly but allow me to explain.
My partner tends to have REALLY bad period cramp and other side effects related to them, nausea, extreme hip pain, fever and more stuff that inevitably ends up occurring during each time she visits, this last time happened around the weekend of the begging stages of the Football World cup, she came down with a really intense pain in her lower back alongside the dysmenorrhea related stuff and it happened right while we where almost done with the tabletop game night, me and my friends and family tried to help her as much as we could but could barely do much to keep her at peace that day so when we arrive home i tried accommodating my room the best i could so that she felt comfortable in it, next day tho something really annoying would happen, as it was Sunday with the next day being a holiday well most of our neighbors where having parties in their houses mainly to watch the world cup, my room is situated just by the side of the neighbors garage so by 1PM the sound of “GOL!”, the smell of alcohol and a barbecue coupled with the sounds of the football match topped with the 32C heat rays of the day where intruding my room and my partner basically couldn’t rest at all so i tried moving her to another room in the house but even then constant noise from everything was so loud that it was becoming insufferable so we ended up calling the local community manager for them to send someone next door to at least get them to lower the volume a bit, i watched from the window for the person who would come to their garage, talk to them for an extremely short while just for then to walk away having done nothing, i expected something like this due (Colombians are pretty stubborn when it comes to their loud noises) but i at least expected for them to feel at least a little bit bad for making their neighbors uncomfortable enough for them to call on for community action but…instead of it they stared to talk trash about us, they stared calling us names and many other things that i don’t really want to write about but they where not saying them to us directly but instead between each other in a loud voice as if to get us to hear from the other side of the wall, and of course i heard them and to be honest with you i got a little bit mad at them, so i went outside and walked to them to explain the situation and how uncomfortable was for us to hear them talk shit about us through the window, what happened i kid you not was the wildest thing i never imagined would happen; an extremely drunken man that smelled like if he was the sole worker of a whole beer factory came to me saying things like “Dude stop being so over the top (i was not, even though i was mad i went talking to them in a calm way), we’ve barely doing any noise at all” to which i responded “I could hear y’all talk trash about us through the window, you think that’s barely any noise at all?” at that time 3 other drunken men in the group would get up from their chairs and start throwing hurting words at me so my Mother got worried and came out of the house worried for my safety and as an old grandpa with a beer in hand saw her he shouted “YOU BITCH!” with as much force as he could, he then got up his chair and broke his glass beer bottle on the table while still shouting, i was stunned, what was happening to him? It got to the point that 2 people from their group had to hold the guy with force and after shouting to him to get him to calm down and him refusing to they forcibly removed him by carrying him inside the house. I was still stunned so i didn’t noticed the moment my Father had came out the house too worried due to the shouting and glass breaking and then they all started shouting at each other to the point that the police had to be called, at one point i asked about the old man losing his mind and i got hit with “Well he’s sick of the heart and if he dies it’s your fault” to which i said “He shouldn’t be drinking then” and at that moment who would self proclaim himself as his son would take another beer glass and start threatening me with it… crazy stuff, anyway the police was called and the whole thing would end up scattering after they arrived and we all talked to them with no end to the discussion in sight.
What i want you to think about this anecdote is what the whole culture of violence has done to us here in my cultural sphere, people that deem themselves bearers of reason will justify themselves with whatever means they can obtain even if they resolve them in unnecessary violent ways, and that’s because we’ve been so desensitized from violence that even altercations like that are deem as “nothing out of this world” or “Typical drunken rage”, people in my culture don’t measure the reach of their actions as intrusions of others if they deem their end goal to be crossed with them, it seems obvious when you stop to think about it just a little bit but we’ve had our eyes covered by the reporting of violent events for so long that we sometimes forget that most of their authors are just making click-bait material out of the suffering of others.
Though of the Day
In my curriculum i should also add that nothing comes from trailing the drunkenness of a fool.
Hello! I’m back once again to talk about stuff no body cares! Nah, i’m being mean to myself heh…
So as you may have known due to my last entry, since the beginning of the month until the 17th-18th ish my partner was visiting me here in my country in our twice a year meet up (yes we barely see each other like 24 or 28 days out of the 365 all of the year even though we voice chat on discord almost everyday) so i wasn’t really writing at all mainly because i couldn’t either concentrate in my deep thoughts nor be enough of an asshole to ignore her completely in my usually 1 hour writing schedule i take for these diary entries, so i apologize if whoever reads these was expecting something from me these past few weeks.
There’s lots of things to talk about that i’ve been processing in my head through all this time but I’m not feeling confident enough to talk about all of them in one entry so i’ll try to sprinkle them from here on in different entries. This time i want to do a kind of blog like entry detailing some of the things we did while she was on visit here, as i mentioned on my last entry a few hours after i was i finished writing i had to go pick her up from the airport at something like 1 AM which it’s pretty nice if we take into account her worst medical condition: Being Chilean. Turns out that when you live most of your life in a region of the world where the maximum temperature during summer doesn’t exceed 27°C mid-day and you travel to a country right on the top of the equatorial line where days are 32°C on average, well, you kinda die on the spot. In the past whenever she’s come here she has always arrived at 12PM when the sun its a it’s brightest and she almost always has a heat stroke as soon as she gets out of the plane and into the lobby, one time when i went to pick her up i couldn’t find her at all and she wasn’t answering to my messages nor my phone calls so i got really worried just to find her a bit later almost melting in a chair right in front of a Dunkin Donuts while oogling at their products, so when i met her the very first thing i said was “You want one?” just for her to say “What? Want what?… Hello!”.
So this time it was kind of a blessing that she had arrived late at night when there’s no sun at all although i was a little bit worried due to the past day being election day and due to my country being one of the most violent ones in all of south America so there was a slight chance of some sort of protest blocking my way or some sort of terrorist attack going on, whenever i think about this i find it kind of funny how most of the world and even most of South America doesn’t really have to worry about these types of events happening at all but ever since i stopped being a glue eating baby i’ve been conscious of the amount of violence here, you hear about gang and theft violence almost everyday and terrorist attacks and kidnappings every once in a while as well so the constant hearing of threats may tip your balance of the bias against the security of the country, i remember the first time i went to Chile my partner’s Mother warned me about thiefs and pick pocketing on the streets by saying something like “Be careful of your phone and belongings around here, this is not like your country, you can actually get robbed” and i couldn’t help but chuckle at what she said since i’ve been robbed at gun point twice here in my own town. Anyway what i want to say is that hearing about that and having some experiences of the like may negatively influence the way that you look a the whole picture, and in my case, as someone that walks almost everywhere and regularly uses public transport… well i can say i feel pretty safe? But i can contrast this safeness to the one i feel while walking arround in Chile, while here in my country i feel safe while also having to constantly monitoring my surroundings in Chile i can just feel safe. Heh i went on a weird tangent there, sorry, i picked my partner up safely and as she was traveling all day and she was extremely tired she went to sleep immediately after arriving home.
Most of the time she comes here we don’t do much tourism or things like that, we just spend time with each other by going to cute cafés or pastry shops, watch series and movies together and sometimes go out with my friends to do whatever there is to do, so that’s what we mostly did, and since we both are not the type of person to take pics of whatever we do, well… i mainly just have food pics hahahaha, so today i’ll limit myself to recall of the things we did using the photos i took, here we go:
Second Day Dinner
Half Eaten Sushi Plate (As always)
Cakes and Milkshake from one of my favorite Coffe shops.
A few years ago i was streaming a playthrough of Tokimeki Memorial Girl’s Side 2 while translating it from japanese on my Twitch channel and she was present through most of it and we ended up taking the route of her favorite character so i figured while she was here we could read through the fourth game (I chose it specifically because recently i saw there was an english translation of its re-release on the switch) so we played through a the first school semester and half of the second one while aiming for the dumb ass, sexy ass, country ass teacher Kojiro Mikage, i wanted to get to know the whole cast before choosing a route but that stupid Mikage was just too damn funny to miss out on but i originally wanted to go for Minoru Nanatsumori as i don’t really like characters of his type on Otome games but somehow i felt that his attitude was a bit different from your usual Fashionista-rock star archetype so i wanted to look into his story a bit more, i sadly didn’t take many pics of our playthrough but i did take a pic the Valentine’s chocolate we decorated for the Valentines event:
It’s supossed to say “Love Sonic” but somehow it looks like “Que Sonic” which makes it even funnier. The first time i tried decorating it i actually put a crudely drawn Sanic on the corner but got hit with the “Dissaster” tag by the Hanatsubaki twins (Your firends on the right side). Fun fact: My favorite animal is the Cow, mainly the fluffy ones.
Later we made a trip along side my friend and their partner to a mountain near town where the temperature is much cooler with the objective not just to cool ourselfs off but also to watch the pretty sunset and to enjoy some hot drinks while engulfed in the atmosphere, you actually get to the place by means of a cable car so i thought about taking lost of photos of the ascend there but the damn thing moved so much i couldn’t really take good photos, they all came out blurry ;( Anyways here’s some photos we took there:
Blurry Cable Car photo from her phone (I know you are reading this, its time to buy a new one)
Entrance to the place.
Sunset View (The Sun had already set)
Photo of my partner and friend taking photos (She loves Piano-chan btw)
Hot Drinks.
Then the same friend that invited us to see the sunset later invited us to a tabletop game afternoon that they where organizing at their apartment complex, i thought that it was a little thing between friends that would mostly consist of mostly 6 different people but turns out they invited a whole lot of people and we ended up playing games of 12 players each, it was really fun although as we both are not really that sociable of a couple we ended up the night extremely exhausted, being with people is fun but man is it taxing. (Sadly i didn’t took any decent photos that day, sorry)
The last day we went omiyage buying as we always do so we went to the local Miniso in order to buy some presents for a Chilean friend that has their birthday soon, i ended up buying her a cute doggy keychain and Sanrio blind box, my partner also bought some blind boxes and gave one to me, it turned out to be a little Kitty-chan that i used to bully through most of the night.
Ominous Kitty.
Here’s one of the only photos we took together… yep.
Aaannd… that’s it. We planned a lot of things this trip that we inevitably didn’t end up doing due to some stuff i’ll talk about in later diary entries but of the things we had planned the one that i regret no doing was going to the local cat caffe, i think it would have been a really perfect place to take photos at but alas we got hit with the worst of the trip trials and the worst of the Colombian society tribulations.
And i’ll leave it at that for today, just a report style of post, i’ll talk about my feelings tomorrow. See ya then.
Thought of the Day
Immediate reactions makes harsh judges of even harsher sentences.
Can i really call this a diary when i’m not doing it daily? That’s the great question that more than a half a million GoodbyeNamaikiGirl viewers are asking (hahahahaha). No but for real, sorry about the silence lately, my mind has been occupied by the mundane these past few days as i have been mainly preoccupied with some arrangements in the family store plus some in home due to my partner visiting me from today until the 17th (She is actually on the plane as i’m writing this), i probably wont be posting much during those days as whenever i write these entries i take a lot of time to come up with something half-coherent, my brain is kinda slow so making analysis, deciding how to express them and then actually choosing the words for them it’s a process that i need a lot of concentration and time to do in a half-decent way and obviously i don’t think i’ll be capable of doing that while my loved one is physically here with me. Of course i still want to write stuff about whatever i’m deeply thinking about during those days but i’m not sure about the way that i want to do it, when i mentioned to her that my friends where doing some light journaling so we came up with the idea of doing some while she’s here but to be honest with you I’ve never been good at expressing myself through the visual medium, don’t get me wrong i still think the visual arts are my favorite of all the arts and there’s nothing that i love more than coming up with designs for characters and their clothing or just illustrating the cacophony of ideas that Onpu represents in my head but somehow the ideas (other that esthetically ones) that i want to express i’m not really capable of expressing them by strokes on a canvas.
So i’ve thought about recording little snippets of our lives while she’s here in a quasi-vlog styled stuff (Basically Pensamiento en Lemniscata), i’ve actually had the idea of getting an old camcorder with really bad quality akin to the quality on video recordings of the 2000s era that one used to see on early youtube so that i continue experimenting with weird radiotalk style stuff on that youtube channel while also recording the many different cafes and pastry shops that i normally visit in my daily life while also recording the times i’ll go to those with my partner while she’s here, buuuuuut i haven’t really got to buying one, my problem is that the only realistic way of buying those types of cameras these days is to get them from some Facebook marketplace listing and I REALLY DON’T WANT TO TALK TO A RANDOM DUDE ON THE INTERNET AND I REALLY DON’T WANT TO MEET ANY OF THEM OFFLINE, believe it or not i’m a little puffy ball of social anxiety and even thought i’ve gotten used to talking with random people my mind still preffers to avoid those situations completely. So i’m thinking about just recording them on my phone but idk man i just don’t think it’s really all that interesinting to do it that way.
Wow i went on a really divergent tangent to what i was thinking about writing today… welp guess i’ll just transition to that now:
Most people may think that because i’m such a music nerd i must be listening to music every single minute of my life, while on my walks from home to work, while on the pc, while gaming and while arting but, as i’ve mentioned before, i don’t really like to listen to music in such a passive way as i think that music, just like any art, desservers the proper mindset in oder to be apreciated. Also, contrary to what most people of today like, i really love being in silence. Most of my fondness for it comes from my necessity of alotting the proper time, space and ambience in order to think about my stuff but other than that it’s just that i cannot stand loudness at all, whenever loud voices enter through my window, whenever i hear the congested rumble of bikes at the distance, whenever people at a waiting lobby keep scrolling through tiktoks with their phone volume at 70%, i just lose it, i cannot concentrate or even think about anything in those conditions, it feels as if my brain is being stabbed with needles on a wavelenght, it’s so abrassive and annoying that i can’t help to isolate myself. If you are not from Colombia you might be aquainted with the idea that the people over here are so happy and expressive that it is as if they are dancing all the time, i want you to dissosiate from that idea, it is almost always like that because THERE’S MUSIC EVERYWHERE AT ALL TIMES, I HATE IT SO MUCH. You might listen to the ramble of a radio host while on the bus while at the same time listening to the personal salsa selection the old guy in front of you has commited to that day while by your side 4 different kinds of kids are scrolling through 10 different kinds of tiktoks on their mother’s phone, it is physically exhausting. I have this thing where when i’m driving (And i end up driving a lot due to my Mother and Sister not really wanting to do it that much) i always turn the radio off, no matter what is coming through the waves i just cannot concentrate on my own thinking and my driving while the attention grabbing stereo host is trying their hardest to get me to call on their phone, i don’t usually put anything on the aux too since i’m very selective with my music and don’t really like playlists and it would be really dangerous for me to be driving while searching for songs on my phone, so most people that i tend to drive either don’t care that much about it or say it out loud, “This silence it’s kinda awkward, turn on the radio” they say. Man, i know this is a petty hill to die on but i’m convinced that this constant search for sonoric stimuli it’s the reason why people cannot stand their own minds for more than 2 seconds at a time, what is wrong about wanting to just be at peace? What is wrong with only having a conversation with no BGM? What is wrong with using earphones? Those are the questions that i’ll never get convincing answers for while living under this culture.
Thought of the Day
Getting tired of the universe balancing good and bad things equally.
Here’s a short analysis of a dumb thing i was thinking while listening to music searching for the perfect song for the title of last entry; i ended up choosing Balzac’s – The Pain is all Around because is a song that equates pain to love in its lyrics while also talking about the indecipherable feeling of both being strange entities that accompany one self and that surprisingly matches what i think that “Mother Mary” movie was trying to say. So while talking with my partner about the entry and about music in general we would (as we usually do while talking about music) end up telling each other about whatever piece of music or lyric that stood up to us while exploring artists, and as we were talking about the feeling of “sincerity” and of “simplicity in expression” in art as well she would end up mentioning an artist that she has been following for a while called “Melanie Martinez” who’s, and i quote “Way of expressing hate i really dig” or so she has told me.
She was telling me about the artists second album: “K-12” and about how she really doesn’t like it because it sounds like something a angsty teenager would write. The concept album revolves around past experiences and fictional experiences detailing the life of a teenage girl going to a high-school where everything is bad and awful and horrible and… yeah, you get the point. The thing is that as she told me “everything about it sounds vapid and surface level, even when the topic is a profound one” and i kinda get that, i’ve listened to many artists trying to depict different emotions and reactions to several different situations and whenever i listen to their sound and/or read their prose i would end up feeling something to the shape of “Is this it?” it is as if the artist is either not looking into themselves in trying to understand the chemical reactions fueling their emotions and instead they are just content with the thought of them just existing, either our (mine and my partner) and their way of feeling things and thinking about them are so diametrically different that we cannot comprehend them, or most likely they are purposely portraying their feelings in a really simple way in order to make them universally inclusive, which i hate.
My partner would also tell me about a song that her sister showed to her once “Querida Rosa” by artist Cami, song that on listen her sister would instantly tear due to the experience of having lost their Grandmother and the song being about losing a loved one, my partner told me that even thought she doesn’t really love that song she can kinda sympathize with it in the same way as her sister does but not on a such potent level. So in my curiosity i would search for the song and would give it a listen and… man, i don’t wanna be mean but it is such a nothing burger of a song, musically more stale than reheated bread and lyrically as barren as the surface of the moon, and its full, AND I MEAN FULL of that dumb dumb dumb way of “Properly” singing that i hate. In contrast there’s this really amazing album by artist Stomach Book called Sophomore Slump Callithump that was mostly all written the night Vivi’s (Stoomach Book) mother’s died and their feelings and way of expressing themselves are way more involved, where she explores the mixture of hate and love and regret in their loved ones death, i can sum it up in a kind of lyrical leitmotiv in the album that goes “I don’t want to be alone when i look at you”.
So the next day while listening to that Balzac live that i shared on twitter i thought about how extremely stupid Balzacs songs sound like, they mostly just shout and shout while these aggressive guitars and drums cover the whole soundscape, their easthetic can also be seen as really dumb and vapid too, skeleton shirts, early 2000s visual-kei hairstyles and EXTREME OBSESSION with murderers, destruction, darkness and the number 13? so one would think they are a dumb band for dumb egdy teens… but then after a while you open your ears and start hearing things, you hear desperation and pain and the overwhelming feeling of wanting to break away, and then your read their lyrics and find out that most of it its just about self hatred, of not finding yourself in an overwhelming sea of crowds, of feeling that your voice cannot break through the walls of the zeitgeist and so you start rising your voice louder and louder disregarding whatever those crowds could say until you inevitably tire yourself out. And in the process, you’ve transformed the vapid into energy.
I don’t know why but these past few weeks every single time it turns to Sunday i get a REALLY sharp craving for some ice cream at around the sunset, so i’ve been going to the local mall to get it from my favorite ice cream shop (They have the greatest choco mint i’ve tried over here, not too sweet and not too minty), as you may recall one of my besties and their partner live in an apartment complex right besides the mall so that’s how i’ve been getting more involved in the lives, well as i happened to go for ice cream yesterday and as i happened to ask if i could go visit them i ended up in their home most of the night.
Aside from casual conversation about life stuff and about a friend that’s trying to escape their home by renting them a room in their apartment (Their mother became crazy paranoic about everything and they are tired of dealing with it) they told me that before me calling they where just about to start watching a movie by the name “Mother Mary”. Now given how pedantic i talk about most art related media you would think that of course i am a movie freak and all of that but to tell you the truth i’ve never been really that deep into movies, of course i’ve watched all of the classics like your Tarantinos, Hitchcocks and Kubriks, i’ve dabbled into really indie european films mostly depicting a ton of violence (it was during my teenage years when i was a deeply edgy puber) and of course there was a time in my life where i was binge watching each respective year’s Cannes participants, but most of them i found profoundly… boring? I am able to recognize the talents that compose any given movie at their intrinsic parts like shot composition, coloring, scoring and editing but somehow i always find whatever they have to say boring or lacking in thought or just simply not enough. I’ve always thought about my feeling for movies are due to the short nature of them, yeah some people find the 2 or 3 hour runtime of a typical movie more on the “long” spectrum and i can’t imagine what you think of movies if your attention span is no longer than the average length of a tiktok video but to me that is an extremely short time to properly expose a topic or a thought and so artsy films tend to leave me hanging on the interesting ideas and developments. The opposite, and i mean really short movies with simple plots made for the sole purpose of being entertaining, also bore me as well with their simple thinking and focus mostly unimpressive spectacle, your typical superhero movie or investor contracted animated film’s light rays impact my retinas and completely bounce of off them by the time the movie is over, i end up only remembering scenes that i thought where nicely composed or that had exceptionally good animation.
And so that’s why all of my favorite movies revolve around depicting a simple topic in the most personal way there is, i love Speed Racer’s love of action where it’s direction always points to the most fun way to translate the joy of performing, i also love Fantastic Mr. Fox’s plea to return to your naturalistic self and embrace responsibility as much as you do your hopes, and of course i love Pulp Fiction’s will they won’t they (kill or kiss), that’s the type of movie that i like.
So in watching this “Mother Mary” movie i would recognize it’s themes as they where led bare on screen but as always there where things that i could just not manage to connect with, the movie revolves around a Pop star named “Mother Mary” who’s career she feels has recently plateau, while trying on dresses for her next show an extremely intense pain begins haunting her and she assumes this is due to her dresses not properly portraying who she really is and so while in the middle of her concert preparations she escapes into her old dressmaker friends house to beg her for her to make a proper dress, her friend reluctantly agrees to help her out but in order to really portray what she Is now Mother Mary first needs to open up their hidden true feelings to try and make her friend understand, on the way there you discover a romantic undertone that deals with, what i think is the main theme of the movie, Pain.
Pain in the stigma of an unrequited gay love, pain in the stigma of a pop star harboring all of the emotions of her audience while dealing with the desires of others to project themselves onto her and pain in the stigma of not having been able to identify what was truly important to oneself at the right time. I call it stigma because that’s what it is, the movie depicts the idea of psychological pain transforming into physical pain by means of cuts and open wounds, the idea that wounds are windows through which the phantoms of regret and anguish not only escape from within us, but also of that they are open doors through which they are welcomed in.
And i like that… in theory, the reality of it is that no matter how i try i just cannot sympathize with extremely famous pop stars and designers, of course i know they are people just like you or me and that they are able to feel and think just they way i can but somehow whenever i think about popular music and popular fashion and the showbiz world i just cannot wash away the taste of the non-genuine, the taste of plastic. Just for me to fathom the idea of someone trying to sell me on my humanity, on the pain that i’ve suffered and on the love i’ve grown inside myself just with the idea that everyone’s pain (love) can be pristinely bottled up in a pretty jar for it to be sold on stores on a rotating line of months and to be shown on stages and parades of performing dolls… it makes me gag a little bit.
Thought of the Day
Of the curses i’ve casted upon myself and of the phantoms that haunt even my brightest of days, what i love is that i can say that they are only mine.
Goodbye Namaiki Girl 