I think my physical pain symbolizes my emotional pain, except it not as bad.
It’s a pain in my torso that I can’t explain, I’ve never felt it before and it’s excruciating to even walk, I feel like gravity is crushing my ribs and spine.
yup, parallel to my emotional pain.
I’m so ridiculously confused.
Recently I’ve come to realize life is a deadly cycle and you’re the only one that can stop it in order to make it what you see.
That vision of pure bliss you’ve only seen in your deepest dreams since childhood.
That person you see yourself with forever, that place you’ve always loved and wanted to live in, doing whatever pleases you.
That abysmal euphoria.
That happiness.
everything’s to complicated for that to ever happen and only very few people have lived that and even less people can have that now. The world’s fucked and so is the way human life works.
As humans, we’ve figured out all the things that make us what we are and what triggers said things and yet we fail to be able to achieve what every single one of us desires. Failed to conjure a system that is of assistance to everyone’s dreams, not just the people with money.
We’re all equal and deserve to accomplish whatever we feel is what we came on this planet to do. If not, then what’s the whole point of life?
Just do what makes you truly happy and don’t let anyone tell you shit.
I want to be happy.
but it’s proven that happiness is temporary.
so in that case… who wants to be happy?
It’s like wanting to be let down in the end.
That’s unimportant though. What matters is something far more selfish, which is why am I not happy.
I feel unhappy for 90% of my time on earth. I feel like nothing ever seems to go right, but at the same time nothing goes terribly bad so I have no excuse for being really unhappy all the time; it’s just like this endless limbo of uncertainty.
so, I guess that is a reason to be unhappy, although it still sounds like self-pity.
writing here is always so hard.
I always think about what I wanna write about and I come up with good shit too, but for some reason, I sit down in front of the computer and my mind gets clogged by a majorly interfering thing called the internet. The posts about nonsense and things that are entirely irrelevant to my day are constantly being displayed on my computer screen. Images to make you feel jealous, desire, maybe even nostalgic are just there ready to brain wash. I need more time to filter and clear my mind of such superficial and materialistic thoughts. I need to be silent and deep in thought in order to give my reader(s) the utmost fantastic effort in my writing. My mind is so foggy from mindless television and soothing, yet at times controlling, music that I’m sometimes not even sure my sentences are coherent.
Another point, when I do write: it feels forced. It’s not passionate like it should be & usually is. I feel like I’m writing down a random and useless rant that I just came up with in my head two minutes prior to starting. It’s so unimportant that I usually don’t remember it and it makes me wanna delete what I wrote because in a few hours I won’t feel the same way. Just heat-of-the-moment type stuff. & it bothers me cause I want this blog to be timeless and relative.
sorry to rant instead of write about my life recently; just food for thought.
∞ stay golden;
recently, there’s been a few differences in my life compared to before I realized things won’t be the same again. I went through many stages of it, including anxiousness, some sort of fear & extreme nostalgia. Now some of the most drastic of these was her. She was in my life for over a year as my best friend and it’s as if I never got to say goodbye. There was never any closure with her; that bugged me.
& still now I have a hard time processing how I let her go so easily. I guess it was just at that point of no return. I can now truly accept that she doesn’t want or need to be in my life (for a while at least). even if she came back running with all the joy in the world, I would not take her back, because not only have I moved on to another chapter in my life, but she put me through something emotionally wrecking & hypocritical. She wants to not even talk. I’m gonna see where this leads.
Also, I have moved from the apartment that I resided in for four dreadful years into a nice new house which allowed me to have my own room. A little privacy never hurt anyone. Plus, I was tired of having to live in such constricted conditions. This should change things up in the house; my father’s attitude, among other things.
so, lately I’ve been coping with the whole break up in a not-so-orthodox way. Hey, don’t judge me, it helps. I can’t say I’ve been very sober recently but that sounds obnoxious, so I’ll leave your imagination to do the work. Trying to keep yourself and your mind busy allows for your head to think differently and expand your horizons in order to not concentrate on that single eerie thought of discontent. It feels good having a little more freedom; and I mean that in all aspects of my life.
∞ stay golden;
This is what has been happening in my life, prior to the creation of this blog.
I was born in Bogotá, Colombia at 9:46pm on the day April 19, 1995 to Rubert J. Velasquez and Claudia Marcela Pinzon, who were married only by the law at the time. My father was born on June 19, 1971 and my mother on July 10, 1975. They met in college, most likely fell in love and had me at the tender ages of 24 and 19. I spent my earliest years living and growing up in a town called Chía, which was located on the very outskirts of Bogotá, the capital of the country I am proud to call my home. My first natural language is presumably Spanish. We lived happily and regularly. Those first few years I shared with basically my whole family, including but not limited to my grandparents from both sides, all my aunts, all my uncles, my great grandparents and so on. I was the first of my siblings and cousins, so I grew up as spoiled as imaginable. The eldest of all. I wasn’t entirely deprived of children my age, since I have a relatively large family, generations merged making it possible for my second cousins to be of a close age. One second cousin stood out the most, Juan Diego Escalante who was born just five months after me on September 11, 1995. As toddlers we met and immediately ignited our relationship (or so I’ve been told). He would later be almost a lifetime best friend without even knowing it.
This is a blog inspired by Alexia Molfetas. She told me there’s these blogs that people just write about how their day went and their feelings toward it. At first this was just to see myself as I progress through a course of time but now I’m here as a 16 year old boy, writing about not only my day, its events and my thoughts as to my day but I’m here to put down my perspective of life in writing. I’ve always been told I’m an exceptional writer, so naturally, I was intrigued to write a book. When I began to think about this, I was merely fourteen years young and I was at an impasse pertaining to what in the world I was going to write about. As a person, I consider myself an extremely pensive individual and that’s what I ended up deciding to write about. My endless thoughts. The good, the bad, the crazy and everything I’ve been through as a human. Yes, there’s biographies and autobiographies of all kinds, but i want to give myself and people more than that. I’m prepared to give my all into the mind of a human being. I may be different than everyone in the world in my own way, but I’m still a human being and we all have thoughts and a life. Even though i haven’t been through everything in the possible universe, I’m positive each and every person can relate to what I think. Everyday, beginning from when I am sixteen years old, I shall [try to] write everyday. I’m here to write about it all; life, love, family and friends, loss, interests, drugs, happiness, sex, money, society and all of those endlessly reoccurring themes that life has to offer as I see it. I may not be the most dignified or qualified person to do it, but I am here to depict life in its realest and rawest form. It will be the ultimate autobiography; this blog is the beginning of a book I will later go on to write. Welcome to the life of Salomon Velasquez.
