In a forgotten dirtroad

A couple of years ago, there was an earthquake in one of Peru's cities. Chincha. It was a major national tragedy. It happened while I was abroad. I watched on tv the shrieks of desperation from families trying to get their loved ones rescued, or at least have their bodies recovered. It was awful, yes, but as any other person exposed to the mass media, I thought to myself "This happens all the time. Around the globe, this happens and not every case gets a spotlight.". I told that to myself and I believed it. I was able to forget for a bit.

By the way, if you're expecting the funny parts of this entry you'll have to wait up. I have some serious words to give first. Now, exactly 18 hours ago I decided to embark into a missionary trip to Chincha city. Why? Because in every process of growing up and trying to cope with yourself and your mistakes, one must learn to see the world from another's eyes. It is the most simple and yet most difficult thing to do. In any case, I packed up my Barney the Dinosaur hand puppet, a minibible ( for the puppet ) and hit the road alongside my good friends Viewtiful Shaun, Renzo, PP, Percy and others. The 3 hour trip in the blazing sun of the coast was not a pain in the ass due to the sheer amount of planning we were focused on.

Oh did I mention we planned the show like, just 2 hours before doing it?
Yup. I just did.

In any case, I was to do a Christian Barney hand puppet read the bible for 120 kids. The Good Samaritan, namely. Now you might be wondering "What's the big deal?". Well, I'll start by saying that kids are not stupid. They know they get more props by acting stupid ( Hell, I used to do that ) and thus, they outsmart adults many many times.

Poor/Street kids, however, are on another league entirely.

Their cynism level rivals that of a fully grown adult, their skill in the arts of making you feel sorry and do shit for them is remarkably deadly. They also have the nasty tendency to make stuff dissapear whenever they :

a)Don't like you
b)Don't think you're funny enough
c)Like your shit
d)All of the above

Again, let me repeat. I was to perform a handpuppet Barney the Christian Dinosaur show for 120 of those kids.

120.

Needless to say, bricks were shat when I arrived there and saw the marabunta of little lovable rascals. I never get myself to feel annoyed with kids no matter how undeniably anooying they are. Maybe because I consider myself an overgrown kid. In any case, I smiled widely and greeted them as if they were my age, giving High-Fives to any kid that would not be busy trying to ransack me. Surprisingly enough, they seemed to like that and my backpack was safe for the entirety of the trip. Note to self : Kids will not bother you if you can earn their trust and respect. Mainly by not talking down to them. In any case, they were mostly covered in dirt and I suspect some of that wasn't exactly 'dirt' dirt. But to be honest I didn't care. Children are always a weakspot to me. Again, my inner child runs free in my psyche.
Hence, I only noticed that my hand was dirty when I was already behind the curtain and trying to get the hand puppet on. I decided I could care less, and wiped it on my Hurley shirt. Because I'd rather ruin a half-decent shirt than start having prejudices against little kids and their physical condition.

Alas, the show had started. I went into full-on Barney mode, trying to copy, emulate and reproduce all of the purple dinosaur's mannerisms...with my hand. And well, my voice helped. I knew that kids wouldn't buy some half assed 'Dude behind the curtain reads the bible' shit, so I dropped in some 4th wall breaking jokes, tv references, some fart jokes ( kids dig that ) and added a bit of my over-the-top personality to the hand puppet in order to make it look more alive.

It worked.

My pals helped me along with the play by enacting the scenes Barney narrated, and the kids liked it. I enjoyed myself even though I was practically boiling behind that curtain ( Again, Chincha is VERY HOT these days ) but it was worth every sweat drop. As a finale, Barney decided to go 'downstairs to go back to his car and drive to his home'. A little bit of 'getting fat these days' joking and voila. Show was over. It lasted at least 20 minutes of improvising. Again, we succeeded in this and with one of the toughest crowds to please. Not to mention the ages ranged from 6 to 13. And both you and I KNOW what that combination can do.

After the show, I was asked to give some sort of peppy speech to the kids. I decided to go Anime Shounen Hero at them and talked about how no matter the suck-level of situations, one can always get past it with willpower, faith and patience. Now, telling cyinical, impulsive and street savvy kids about patience, faith and willpower is not an easy task, mind you. So at first they looked at me with a clear 'Get back to the hand puppet shit' face.

Until I started talking about superheroes.

Boy, it was amazing to see just how easy it was for me to relate to them and their chain of thoughts. I discovered right there that I had been arrogant in my intention. I had gone there to try and teach the kids about Christianity. But these poor, dirty and nearly illiterate kids were teaching me so much about the world that I had ignored and forgotten for so long. I remembered what it was like to make a friend without looking at what he was wearing. I had forgotten how nice it was to play in a forgotten dirtroad without caring about the filth in your clothes. I let my 18-year old self share with these kids a passion for fun and games that I confess, I often repressed. I remember how it is not okay to forget to be a kid. I remembered how I am supposed to do random and childish things once in a while.

I remembered what it was like to be blissfully happy, without a care in the world.

Just lying on the dirty pavement, exhausted from playing. Exhausted and happy.

I remembered what is was like to love someone without even knowing that person entirely.

And a bunch of street kids taught me that in the four hours of the event.

It was both a well-deserved slap to my pride and a wise lesson to learn. These kids lived basically in huts. Flies would often invade the place. They didn't know what the internet was. They didn't know they were supposed to one day, make a choice about a carrier or job. They weren't AWARE of the fact that day by day, adults fuck up the world that is supposed to be their inheritance. And they're happier than I'll ever be. Their smiles are more radiant and true than mine in my best hour. I can never hope to smile like that.

But I also learned that nevertheless, I have to smile.

Always smile.

I love you, kids. Thanks for teaching me how much of an immature prick I can be.

I'm definitely coming back there. When I do, I'll enjoy time with those kids again. Without caring if I ruin another shirt, or if they just put up with me to get free gifts. I seriously don't care. I'm sure they don't. Whenever I am called to go there, I will. Because I already owe them a lot.

Because they brought my spirits up. And reminded me that some things are worth waiting for.

So this entry is dedicated to the kids in Chincha, and every kid that is able to see a world of fantasy and wonder amidst this hellhole we call 'tragedy'.

We'll need that kind of people someday. I'm sure we will.

Night peeps.

Rhapsody of the Leg

Muay Thai. A fighting technique inherited from Thailand, brought to the western world long ago by inmigrants. And also the cause of my morning pains for the last month. While Tae Kwon Do, Judo, Karate, Kung Fu and other oriental disciplines put an emphasis to aesthetics and such, Muay Thai cannalizes it into the ability to turn your oponent ( or yourself ) into a bloody pulp. It's also good for showing your guns to the ladies. Ever since Q-Day, I've been looking for a way to vent my angst into actual positive energy and motivation. I talked to my brother ( who is the ultimate gymfag ) and he told me about this little fighting style in the poetic yet direct way of :

"It's FUCKING bloody."

Ah brother, how I miss you. Anyways, first day there, my angst was gone. It was replaced by several concussions, a kick to the jab and a broken leg. Fortunately, my habit of NEVER wearing tight pants has allowed me to conceal the prothesis.

I mean guys, there are better ways of showing your -laughable- package. Consider speedos.

In any case, it took me an entire week of waking up in complete exhaustion to realize I haven't felt such a rush in a long long time. The moment when your hearbeat increases so much you can hear blood pumping in your ears, trying to decide whether to drink water OR breath -because the urgence your body feels is painstaking-, THAT is the moment I live for. Sharing this with my friends has left such wonderful comments as :

Reld : O_o you crazy
Dad : THAT'S MY BOY! You know, when I was your age I( insert ancient history text here )
Mom : WHAT IS WRONG WITH THOSE PEOPLE! MY POOR BOY, LOOK WHAT THEY'VE DONE TO YOU!
Wachín : Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude...
Renzo : The fuck? Are you trying to fight your way to her or what? Because ninja lessons don't require you to die on the 5th session and are much cheaper.
Diego : CHALLENGE. ACCEPTED ( punched me in the gut )
Shaun : Way to go man! See ya on the weekend! ( no comment on the broken leg, goes back to Amanda )
PP : ESEEEEEEEEEEE...

Oh guys, what would I do without you.

Maybe one of the things that gets me most excited these days is my newfound innate ability with Corel Draw. I mean, it is by no means fun to use but BOY do I get a thrill while creating images. When I get my laptop ( WEBCAM ENABLED WEE )first thing I'm doing is draw a ***GOOGLE CORPORATION AND THE FCC HAS CENSORED THIS CONTENT***

Aw hell yeah.

Meanwhile on college, I got dryhumped by one of my friends. It has derived into a homoerotic battle of epic proportions in which if one of us leaves an opening to his behind, dryhump ensues.

Yes, healthy and educative fun for all the family. Oh the joy.

My black best friend, Api, has been appearing on my head lately. Mainly due to the fact I was used to see him every single day at school and now, a year after, I feel sort of nostalgic. Sure, I saw Reld too but then again, we have a love/hate friendship. Now that I think about it, we met by stabbing each other with pens on breaktime.


Ahhh friendship. What a wonderful thing.






DAMN this apple is juicy.

Never gonna give you up

And I say 'never gonna let you down'. It's me. Again. Writing shit that nobody wants to read but free time and such has allowed the internet to create such wonder. The internet can create wonders. It connects so many people, creates bonds from afar. Like WoW nerds who go raiding together and then try to figure out what a pair of real boobs look like. Truly charming. But this one blog entry has an owner. An owner who isn't as avaiable as always, but I hope to God that this will somehow be found. Like a note in a bottle.

Before you go ahead and block this off too, take a minute to read a bit of internet sincerity guys, will you?

Age. It defines so many things and yet so little. I am a person full of regrets and embarrassments, and yet I find myself to be at least a decent person. I think I've made mistakes. And I'm sorry for them. Some of them I'm just sorry, some of them I wish with all my might I had never even got to commit them. Sometimes, the bonds and limits vanish like there is nothing that separates two minds and shit happens. Yes. I know I've made a horrible mistake. You have every right to be upset. I had no right to do what I did, and it was probably something horrendous to do without context. But I meant every single nice word. Which is hard to do when you can't see my face. Even though you'll probably hate me. Hate me then. I can accept that. But blame me. Only on me. I value that person so much, it's insane to think such a thing would grow on the internet. I'm not a loon. I'm not crazy. I'm perfectly god damn sane college student with perfectly above the average grades and I knew what I was getting into.

If this is the new way things are, so be it. But know that it will change nothing at all. Except maybe severing a bond that would've grown into something you guys would've liked. Who knows. I'm just ranting again.

The point is, it will not go away. I'm patient, I don't hold grudges. If anyone is to blame it is me and I apologise. Don't punish a person who didn't commit anything evil or despicable. I still think you guys are great people and if you think I can fake all of this stuff just to stalk someone, you're giving me way too much credit and - with due respect - you don't know me. At all. Which is a shame, since I looked forward to meet you.

I'll still be here, if anything comes up. If things can be talked through, I'll be glad to do it. I'm sorry for the trouble. So deeply sorry. I'm not gonna lie, it hurts. It hurst me. I'm a human being and I'm hurt by this. But if anything, I just wish my pain is greater than that person's. If this wasn't meant to be, I hope she didn't even feel the same way I felt because that way she's gonna get over it faster. Just that.I still hope this doesn't end. But this is the best I can do right now. That, and doing my best to not break down. Maybe you guys don't get it, but I wish the best for her. A person who she knew on the internet. And if you guys think that not talking to me ever again is the best for her, then I'm destroyed. But there's nothing on my power that I can do right now. And you will probably block this site too. If you already haven't.

This isn't just a message for her, it's for you too. Her family. The people she has told me several times she loves. The fun, wise-cracking dad, the loving, caring mother, the chill, relaxed brother. Wonderful people I'll never forget because for better or worse, this will be engraved in my memory not as a grudge or sadness, but as a reminder. A reminded that once upon a time, two people found each other a were happy. For a small time. From afar. Truly and honestly.

It's what loneliness can do.

Best wishes.

Avocado.

P.S : That swordfight is still on, Mr.Superkamikazecacatuar. I'm a man of my word. I keep my promises. I always do. To you, or your daughter.