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Well, that, that was just in 2009, it's 2010 ... Part of

and we will say so in Arcadia, right?

, 2009 "Bad things? The worst, the death of a loved one. The rest, nonsense.

, 2010 "Good things? Many, actually. The best: I've learned even more rules for the operation of this World and their specimens, which means that if I am ready and put into practice what is theory now in 2010 things will me very well, while my health smile, of course ...

Everything is seen, but my layout is perfect: I'm happy in my skin, I know that I want and those who do not, and most importantly, know what I do with my life.

I hope all readers of the Arcadia burn the bones of 2009 in style and resurface the January 1, 2010 Phoenix bird as authentic.

Happiness Happy!

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Theory Mirror (or "I get angry with you to misrepresent your first post angry with me")

For this reason, this post is on the Theory of the Mirror, as he calls a friend of mine. It is applicable to those cases in which one sees a being of their affective environment gets angry really with him even though he is convinced that he has done nothing, absolutely nothing to deserve such a hostile and unpleasant part of which until recently was a loved one.

But is that the world and its inhabitants are very complicated, and it appears that some people are incapable of self-criticism and take responsibility for some of the bad things that happen (I mean those bad things caused mainly by attitude of self), and before acknowledging your intent, fault or negligence, attack. We, as always: some are advocating attacking.

Mirror Theory explain the odd behavior of these people knowing in the depths of their being, they have not done well, are quick to get mad pissed well before the anger take root in the injured on duty. These people think something like: "If I get angry with X, then X may not be angry with me because I've asked the first in the queue instead of anger."

Do you know a "mirage" of these? Individuals are easily recognized: they are angry with a world that does not satisfy his every whim, suffer from a clear psychological imbalance that leads them to thinking chaotic (or all black or all white) were strongly believe victims of a global conspiracy generated with aim of making unhappy, have problems with everyone and everything, with friends, family, lovers, bosses and coworkers.

Not only acknowledge the help of kind people who try to make them see reason and help them live peacefully, but turned against them when they do what they want or say what they want to listen, his ability requirement has no limits, they can emotionally strangle who falls into their clutches, and in extreme situations (when they have their claims of outrageous behavior or emotional blackmail too far) comes "The Mirror" acts as understanding beings should act and trying to help loving, and angry.

Come on, bite the hand that tries to get them out of quagmire of pain in which they live.

(continued)

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Requiem for technical stop at Lerma ...

because now is different, although in theory there is still a technical stop at Lerma ...

But no, not the same.

Goodbye, goodbye, the gloomy hotel Alisa, who after more than two hours away by bus (along with the air conditioning to stop letting one ice cube, either by heating the heavens leaving morbid one the verge of vomiting), welcomed us with its gloomy waiters and stale bread sandwiches. In my case, almost always when it was dark.

At the Castilian stone vagabond princess named antediluvian could not find a smile, perhaps a gesture of kindness among its employees. Anyway, probably the team's hotel waiter was pretty damn to face a horde of confused travelers in search of the chorizo \u200b\u200band brown shriveled stomach pump type offered.

Goodbye, goodbye, for the procession of zombies travelers who stayed in the vicinity with their own snacks wrapped in silver foil, and wandered along the banks of Alisa and afraid to come in and ask for nothing, although it might be that place them sick to his stomach, and therefore preferred to suffer the cold inclement meseteño.

A friend to me and said, "Lerma technical stop is like the beginning of a horror movie, the prologue before the appearance of a psychotic chainsaw in hand and give matarile at all, or rather, seeing the masses of people and gesture torpezuela lost their sandwiches, each in a direction, something undead. "

Yes ... Yes it was for something dark.

But not anymore, because now the technical stop in Lerma, before reaching the capital of the Kingdom (unless you catch the VIP), leaves you in a hiperlimpio, hiperordenado hiperdespejado and chic modern spacious roof endless supply store several (Barbies included) de luxe style station, and a cafeteria neat string of cheap hotel, with its crunchy snacks and wallpaper stacked according to their fill, and even meat and vegetable dishes for diners more demanding.

And if my senses did not betray me, I believed to see threats of serene smile on the faces of uniformed waiters in red and black.

Bye, bye, then, Alisa and its petulant people, to their dire sausages and their greasy sobaos gift, to his bewildered zombies, with its cafes poisonous to Paleolithic images of the area in black and white (with possibility of being purchased) more than the blues and interest, which caused one to give him want to run away toward a beach with palm trees ...

Now the Alisa hotel, abandoned by all travelers rested autubuses there is more bloody than ever, so the chances of creating a horror story inspired by the place becomes more relevant: what about a clueless driver leaving his passenger, rather than modern stop in the old stop, where employees are now living in an abandoned hotel ghosts that come to life to exact revenge on those who stopped eating there and caused the closure of place? Hmmm ...

Maybe someday write something about the hotel ... The damned hotel Alisa Alisa.

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Happy Birthday, Mister Brian Molko

Look at the picture, what you see? "Boy or girl?

For neither one thing nor the other: let's leave it an angel, let it on Brian Molko.

the same way that Michael Jackson was laughing himself (and those who were obsessed with the color / no color) on one of his songs what else was saying that he was "black or white", I here encourage the eccentric, wonderful, talented, androgynous, bisexual Brian unrepeatable confessed leader of the British band Placebo , to do the same: to shout that it does not matter being a boy or girl ... does it matter when it is so valuable.

He is Brian, Brian Molko, the lover boy dressed as a woman, and nail polish and black eyes. First wanted to be an actor, and went to London to get there, but loathe to give him orders and guidelines ... Thanks God, was able to hear himself, and sought the Plan B: the music. There he found his true voice, how to live in freedom: the ecosystem.

He is Molko, Brian Molko, city name in the world with Russian, American father engaged in international banking and Scottish mother, born in Brussels, a resident of changing destinations due to the work of his father (Lebanon, Liberia, Luxembourg ...) and a student at exclusive international schools (where he was sidelined for being courageous and consistent with himself and not hide their magical nature of rara avis).

He is Brian Molko, an artist who sings in English mother and her charming French learned, and now serving 37 years. And as the leader of one of my favorite bands, the architect of these songs that accompany me in the solitude of my room in my hour of martyrdom student and at the bottom of my dark helmets during my walks alone, I say here : I wish him a happy birthday. And thank you for creating jewelry as moi Protège or Slave to the wage or Meds or Battle for the sun or In the cold light of the morning or A song to say Goodbye or Twenty years ...

Another damned poet century.

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And another piece more ...

Loneliness is a tomb that often consciously raise above our heads, but of course, moved by the circumstances. Loneliness can go from being a treasure to be a curse to be eagerly sought to be repudiated by unbearable and miserable.
"There are people who have social skills but then are true fanatics, I mean, they know how and when to be sympathetic or silly, and when, more cold, hard, and thus achieve what they propose, but then, in terms human goodness and quality leave much to be desired. These animals social, but not good people, I told Henry, referring to my youthful stalkers, that afternoon when the sky finally declared us a sort of truce. Some sunshine, even dared to break the uniformity of the sky gray Bilbao. And that is why I'd rather be alone than accompanied by the kind of things I do not want to spend my time with animals .

walked by the long, Máximo Aguirre Street, near the house of the grandmother of Laura, get down after the bus had just crossed the bridge of Deusto.
That afternoon, although I had such a hurry as he had been able to collect my things, Henry had fallen behind (perhaps due to the weakness that the disease had left him) and we missed the magic bus route. So we took that other one the next one arrived. The idea of \u200b\u200bget down near the Parque de Doña Casilda, half an hour from home, was the brainchild of Henry, and I accepted. I wanted to walk through this beautiful park with ponds full of ducks and swans, fountains and statues of stone and dark vegetation, a small oasis in the urban jungle.

I did not know if it was because he was tired or because he wanted to prolong our journey, but after a few minutes of wandering about Henry asked me a while to stop at a cafe in the park.

"But you too are an animal, Ana," he said as we sat at the tables outside, some rusty pieces of garden furniture is still damp from recent rains. I was surprised that this had terrace café at the gates of winter, but well protected, yes, solid panels and awnings. Before his indictment, I remained silent.

"Well, no hurry, right? He asked to see the time consulted my watch. It was not clever enough to deduce that he did as a nervous tic, to do something, to keep me entertained foolish to let me forget a shortly after I had sat down to chat with a man of my age after two months of rare relationship.