Some days ago someone brought it up and I thought I should say something about this. Many people had told me this and I thought I was time to settle this.
Example of what has happened lately:
Him: Yesterday I read your blog. I think you have serious issues and you need psychiatrical help.”
Me: “Oh yeah?”
Him: “You’re dellusional.”
Me: “Many people are dellusional, and put their words on paper. It’s called writing, and I just write.”
Him: “That’s not writing”
Me: “I write. I may not do it well, but I do write what I want, when I want. It’s the essence: everybody does what they prefer to do with their life”.
Him: “Are you angry with me?”
Note: It may sound a little sappy in english. Please bare in mind that the original conversation was in spanish and that translations are seldom good.
I don’t mean to refer to these people as illiterates. God knows they are not. But… It’s true what I say. If I need psychiatrical help– It’s none of your damned business! I can decide for myself… or someday I may be forced in to a jacket and into a sanitarium. I don’t know. I am crazy. Someone, a long time ago, told me crazy people are not really so. It’s not bad to be crazy. That person told me something true: Crazy people, as they are named, were just folks that were too intelligent and sensible to handle the world they live in. They just had a misconception of the world they live in and two seconds later– bang, they were separated from the rest of the world.
But it’s a question of each and every one. I write, I love to write. I don’t know if it’s good, can’t say, but I do it anyway because I like to. And much of the stuff written here sounds dellusional, insane, out of any logic, even plainly stupid. But It’s my writing, so if you don’t like it, you can always go where you want to. No one is forced to read this. No one was ever forced into reading my blog, tied up with ropes or had their eyelids strapped open to see this.
And I’m just trying to keep my mind open while I let go some of the shit I carry inside. And many ask who are these texts dedicated. Because, yeah, It’s true. They sound pretty personal. Sometimes I heard from the mouth of some friends: “Hey, you were truly harsh on me that time on your blog”. But it doesn’t necessarily refer to them. All of you inspire me, in a good or bad way. But it doesn’t aim to hurt any of you. And if it makes you feel good once in a while, then this blog has fulfilled more than it really had to. Because, first of all, it was intended for me to let go. So there’s some sad shit in here… very sad shit. And sometimes, few ones, I write something happy or romantic. Maybe even poetic. And someone then says “Hey, this is good, man”.
Then I really feel great.
Not everything I write is bottom- line truth: many of those things are just these dellusions in my mind. I’m not God. I may be wrong. I’m just a regular Joe with a computer at reach. Some of them things I only heard, I didn’t even think them. I just write. I’m not leading a fight against anyone… this is not a crusade… it’s just a blog. And sometimes I can be right about something, but not _always_.
Many times, I really don’t know what it takes. I’m glad when all of you say: “Oh, how wonderful!”. But I can’t take any comments. Mainly, these comments. I am proud myself to hang out, live, study, share my time with people I consider have a very open mind. I am really proud because it allows me to write openly what I want, and it allows everyone to have their own views on life, many ideas. And sometimes, when you reach that point, you can say “oh well, you know, he writes this- and this- and that… he may be right… i don’t know really, but it’s okay for everyone to believe what they want and DO what their want with their lifes”. Many of these people contribute to this blog in a good- positive way… and also, I have to admit: I have a bad temper. I am truly ecclectic. It’s my life: It’s very disfunctional. I live with myself every day, without any psychiatrical help. I’m truly comfortable with myself. And sometimes I need to explain myself when it really isn’t necessary to do so.
So, you’ll have to live with it– with me, or let go. If you stay, try to keep your minds open. And if I sound too pitiful, that’s okay. That’s the road I’ve chosen. And if you like it here, I’m glad. If you don’t, that’s your problem.
