Tuesday, September 24, 2013

I'm outta here

I try to get concentrated and foccused on what I want to type. It ends up being a very difficult task, especially because my cell phone just vibrated with a text message for me to go to the cafe where I usually go. There are now way too many people inside this cafe. There are way too many things surpassing my mind. The relaxing music of Enigma is not helping (and the music named "T.N.T. for the brain" isn't really helping and is beng somewhat of that).

I am trying to type. I am thinking on countless things and problems. To hell with this shit! I'm outta here!

Monday, September 23, 2013

Ideas, ideas, ideas

They fly high and they burn. They keep offering some images to me, but still I am not typing them down. I know that some of those ideas are going to get lost, while others (the stronger ones) will remain alive within my mind and my soul. I feel them. My body feels them, as if it were bruising of a violent session of BDSM.

I can't say much. I have no idea myself of what's going on.

Let it be... later on, there'll be my own lone session. I will play with myself. I will play games with myself (it's funnier, as I know the limits of my body). And that'll lead me to what I need!

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

for the pleasure of speaking it out

I have been thinking on getting another blog, independent from these ones I already. If I have decided to get this third blog with my regular account, it would be automatically attached to the ones I have, so... as I have a secret e-mail account, for a secret twitter and tumblr... eheheh! Just guess what? ;)

There are things that I think and that I imagine, that I would never dare to write here. Being gay is not a secret (except for my family). My thoughts aren't either. But there are some thoughts that I have, that I consider a bit too hardcore myself. I have had one secret blog in times. But it served the simple purpose to calm down all the bad thoughts that I have had through bad situations. So this third blog (I have one deactivated third blog), would be a bit different than the one I have had and than the ones that I have idealized.

I want to start it this afternoon. But it appears to be a bit hard, as I can not decide one title. Ican not decide that language's issue. And it is jus burning my brains... or what's left of them...


Sunday, September 15, 2013

the most stupid thing

Is that I came to the café to do something online that I haven't been able to do. I also came here to type something specific and I am not being able to. I try to listen to some music on youtube, but since I am typing while the music is playing, it automatically stops, so I am forced to listen to the dudes in the cafe speaking. It is somehow a way t force me to deal with something, perhaps with the challenge that it is to write with all these people speaking around me. And this is something that I consider ver stupid.

I make a few plans. Some of them should have been written, so they wouldn't have been lost this way! They weren't. In fact, I am thinking on writing texts for my blogs at home. I mean to handwrite them and then, it is just to make somewhat of a copy. I have read that in the blog of one of my followers.

Speaking of my followers. The people who follow me here, in the blog. Some of them have read the old secret blog that I have had for a very little time. And all of them were people who have contacted me when I was having one of the most disturing times of my life: death, disease, employment. Unemployment still lasts, but all the bad feelings about all the rest come ocasionally. And as I have done since I have gotten the first follower out of my circle of frends, I have decided to check the profiles of those people. I wanted to read their profiles, to read to their blogs (there's where I have found out a blog whose owner has written an entry, mentioning that he used to write the entries first, to copy them later on). 

The most stupid thing is that I am seeking the impossible: to get things done, without moving my skinny, lazy ass!

Thursday, September 12, 2013

Too much time spent doing nothing

And that's it!

I do spent too much time doing nothing. I did spent three hours in this cafe, just checking out new templates (tryng this one out, just to see if it pleases me enough), checking Facebook, Twitter and doing that only. i've written a post on which I was thinking since yesterday and it ended up coming out very well. I've ended up publishing the poem of Camões that I have thought about and I haven't added much to the entry. Just "touched" on the templates' issue too. There's something called "evolution" and I keep evolving or floating between phases and spheres. Nothing special about that.

Then, right now,in a hurry, I am typing this. Perhaps, this secnd post is pontless and senseless. Perhaps I am just wasting time and energy, that could be very well used doing some other stuffs.

I have been using old images that I have previously posted in this blog or in any other of the ones that I have or had. They're stored n Google storage place. That weird Picasa thing. I als had the tme to creep myself with some of the images that I have posted before. I imagine the thoughts that I've had. I am now feeling curious to read these old lines. I will. I eventually will. Not now. Not even today. But I keep thatplan of reading old lines here and in the blog I've shutted. I want to correct the ortographic mistakes. I might delete ne or another entry. There are things I don't even want to see myself. Why would I allow others to?

There are way too many things going by within me and within my soul. Evolution. Damned word and so right. We need t evolve, to reach somewhere. And my evolution is stopped. It went back. Soon I will evolve again.

I started re-reading the book "Maktub" by Paulo Coelho. The first lines made a connection inside of me. I like his lines. Or I used to. I think that Paulo Coelho is repeating himself way too much. Plus, according to what I've gotten to read lately, I think that he started going too far in vanity. And that has been a very good reason for me to stop listening to sme singers, to stop reading some authors.

I need t stop here. I need to start thinking on walking back home. My back hurts of this hard chair. My butt's already hurtng and not in a pleasant way. I need to go home, stop, rest. Later on I'll be in the cafe again, but not here. Later on, I will be in the streets, but I won't walk up here.

A meeting with an old friend. It felt good to be with her again. It felt really good to taste the flavour of real friendship. I was missing that and I have started to forget how good it tasted. I thought on what it would taste to be in love. Then again, the very little memory  have of it, it is something very bitter. Maybe the fact of the only time that I've been truly in love has been an illusion, something which turned out to be very dangerous and very bad, has made me to become like a wild animal, hunting his next prey. And it feels good when I am hunting. It feels even better when I leave the "corpse" behind, for others to get it and to eat it.

I keep being myself. And if that means that I am crazy, then blessed be such madness!

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

twinks + hunks = twunks

If you go to google.com and you make a search on hunks, you'll find out muscular men. Big muscular men, to be more exact.

If you go to te same platform and you inser the expression twinks, you'll possibly will be driven to gay pornographic websites.

Still related on the young hunks that I have mentioned yesterday, in the other post, if you do the same search using the term twunks, you'll find out all the above. I am not an avid porn consumer, although I do enjoy watching a quick video or two, but that expression (twunk) wasn't strange to me at all.

It makes me think on how much of a twunk we do enjoy from times to times. I do prefer older men, but if it comes to a very handsome muscular 18 or 19 years old boy... well, that is a ver good bonus!

And that's it about this post! ;)

Sunday, September 08, 2013

I was wrong

When I have typed that I had nothing left to say. Life has proven exactly this. Three hours later I a still in the cafe, typing a quick last entry, all this due to have seen him. And as I am mentioning "him" some people could think that I am talking about my stalker, who I also say that has been the love of my life. Or that he is... or whatever... and nevermind about him. This is not about HIM, but about "him".

In this cafe, where I usually come on Sundays, works a ver handsme male. He is working here at least for a month. His face is very sweet and I also like the way he looks at me. It is rather a strange thing to be typing about, but there is something in this male, that makes me think on how good it would be to make him my next disposable male. In tmes, I would make a "movie" within my mind on dating him, having somewhat of a relationship with him and blah, blah, blah... nowadays, there is ver few love left in me, what makes me think on men, if not as friends, as disposable sexual toys. Perhaps this is a wrong way of seing them. Perhaps, this a very right way of surviving. I do live, but to live, we need to survive, ma it be physically, mentally ir in any other possible way that we might live and need to survive.

And in the mean time and n the mean space, when and where there are nothingnleft for secres,  would type an entry on what we could do. On wha we would do. Maybe, I would use experieces from other lovers of mine to imagine what would we do. Maybe,  would use simply my imagination. And then, nothing more would be wrong. And then, no more reasons to keep hdng my sexuality.

There is no right or wrng when it comes to love.

Love to love.

Love to sex.

Love to life.

Love...

To...

Freedom!!!

A stranger in a land of strangers...


What to type about? Maybe that there is a comedy passing in the TV? Maybe about the men in the cafe speaking out loud, laughing, smoking? About them, who I know nothing about, living their friendship here? I am a stranger in a land of strangers. The feeling is not good. I miss that time that I could simply sit in front of the computer and write. I didn't thought if it was rit or wring, I simply used to sit there and write. Nothing else mattered, but writing. I miss that further time that I used to sit around, anywhere would be OK, I would pick the charcoal, the colouring pencils, whatever!, and I used to paint. I was still a stranger in a land of strangers, but at least I used to have my own domain. I was free. I was so free and I used to fly so high. I used to have fun between the angels. From times to times, I used to go down and have fun in hell with Demons too. But tha was a few years ago... I am jus a stranger in a land of strangers...


I have made my own decisions. My decisions under my own risk. I've paid the price. I'll be paying that price forever, unless I find out a way to redeem myself. Oh, Angel with no wings, where are your dreams now? Where are all those gardens where you've walked speaking to the trees, to the flowers, to the mutilated statues?

My mind is filled with people that I'venever seen. My mnd is filled with places, voices, smoke of cigarette in a beautiful frame of nature that I've never reakised before. I hear their screams. I can hear to their dreams, to their hopes, to their prayings late at night. I am alone. I am thinking of the full moon in the sky of my city, while I am walking down the streets, singing. That dark park near to my house is filled with supernatural creatures. Not those who live in the books, but those who live within my own being and my own mind.

I still am a stranger in a land of strangers...

Friday, September 06, 2013

Lost ideas

I have some ideas for what I want to write right here (or even n any other of the blogs) while I am at home. I don't have my own Internet cnnection, nor my own computer lke I have mentioned for way too many times. Ideas get lost.

Sitting in the cafe where I come for seven years (seven years already?), with my friend sitting by my side. We are surrounded by teenagers. Sme of the are smoking. Others are drinking. I know one of them. Their voices make me lift my head up and look around. I always remember of myself and of my friends a few years ago. It feels good. But it can be a bit bitter too. Time has passed by and not all the thngs have gone the best way.

Mea culpa!

My back hurts and I straighten myself in the chair. I try to listen to my thouts and it becomes hard. The crowd around. The crowd of voices within my mind. So many thngs to be written and so few efforts put on what I wish and desire.

Mea culpa! Nobody's else!

And they sng for me: the voices within my mind are singing for me. The Lords are punishing their slaves. The Slaves feel the pain and, some of them, take their pleasure out of it. Angels and Demons get involved in a gigantic orgy. Life and Death still walk the streets of Tokyo (or may this be any other city?) in their human bodies.

I am still seeking those dreams and those fantasies. I am 26 years old and, from times to times, I still dream as a child. I need to move on, to leave all this moods behind and go ahead. There are dreams needing to be caught and it won't be being at home or walking around all day long that I'll get them.

The day is too hot... but too hot is good. It really is.

Wednesday, September 04, 2013

The (good) energy of children

I am a gay dude. Being a gay dude doesn't means I can not have children. Or, in this topic, my own. I can "rent" a belly. I can cheat myself and get married wit a woman (this also means, cheating on the woman I get married with). I can adopt. But honestly, while in times I have thought about having kids, nowadays that was something I wasn't thinking on anymore... until that a friend of mine appearead with her daughter in the cafe and the little girl even seems a bit "attached" to me.

Children! They are the treasure of this world, with all their innocence. They can be the light of our dark days. I have thought... and my thouts include children. Mabe having my own. Maybe adopting one or two kids. Just maybe... these thoughts are like the flashing lights getting weak. Eventually, this thought will vanish and disappear.

What could I have to offer or to teach to a children? I can't see or imagine anything. But still, my thought keeps the smile of children of my life: kids of friends, cousins. Kids require a good dose of energy to deal with them. What is required to have them being ours? Energy. Moe energy. A great amount of education, time, patience, money, and the goddammit list keeps going. Perhaps, someday I will put the effort of following my dreams, fighting for them and I can make a good money out of them. Then, if my thoughts keep having children, I can think on getting and adopting my own.

At this moment, I need myself and my own time and space.

That is all. And that is all that matters.

Sunday, September 01, 2013

Way too many things...

There could have been way too many things that could have been said. There could have bee way too many things that could have been done. This tablet is turnng out to be such a difficult thing to use. This wicked tablet is turning out to be a difficult tool, but I'll win this fight today. My mood is not the best: maybe it is due to the stupid hungover. Maybe not.

Last night, things should have been wa different. I smoked a few joints and two tequila shots made the combination a bit harsh. I freaked out at useless things. I freaked out at people playing with me.. or joking at me, as they use to do. It is not important today. The mood is not the best to think and evaluate las nit. Mabe later on. Maybe tomorrow. Or maybe not.

I've bee thinkinkg about myself. I've been thinkng on who I used to be and on who I am. Some thngs are way different. Others, are exactly the same. I still dream of rich and fame. I still dream... but that is all. There is not much effort put into my plans. I still see some stuffs that I used to. I am seing new stuffs and people nowadays. People who seemed impossible to me in a not so distant past, seem now closer and easier to be "caught" nowadays. Since they're almost not posing a challenge nowadays, they seem not so appealing to me. In the other hand, there are people who seem challenging enough, althou easy enough to be appealing. What to do? In the due tme, I will find out.

In times, I used to be searching for love. How many scorpions have poisoned me with their spike, when I lifted the stones to see if the charming prince was hiding under one of them? Nowadays, it is like the magic fuck: I do fuck and I do disappear. I crave and I despise it. Love?... love is for fairytales and for poets. And it is n the poetry that I crave and that I cry for the lost love and for the new born love that seems to never come on over and to not show up. There is no love in my life. And i my own will, there won't be another one. I am losing that huge like on losing the control on stuffs and on situations. I don't want to be crazy and stupid enough again to let myself go, to lose the control on my thoughts, to think on someone 24 / 7, like if there wasn't anything or anyone else in the world. My mnd is traned enough to let go of peopLe when they have satisfied me. Men, in this very specific case.

I am sitting in the cafe alone. People around me aren't important. The smoke of their cigarettes neither. There must be something else. Things are way boring this way. Life is way too boring this way.

I am sick and tired of all of this. People aren't affraid of suicidal thoughts or acts nowadays, as if the would be years ago, if the read such words. I am just too sick and too tired. Sometimes, despair is way too big to even let me think or react.

I wish I could turn back time.

I wish I could be a children again, with all these bad thngs erased and corrected.

All the dead ones would be alive and still would walk this Earth...

I wish that way to many things would have been different...

There is nothing left but longings and I am doing of longings my real soul and existance...