Quise escribir algo... no se me ocurrió nada :/
I was there, lying on my bed, facing the ceiling, trying to blank my mind. But how can you blank your mind? Have you ever tried to stop thinking? It's almost impossible. It is funny and paradoxical, but thinking is something we cannot stop doing and at the same time it is one of the things we hardly ever do well.
So there I was... thinking even when I didn't want to. It was stronger than me, like almost everything lately. Everything tends to be stronger than me these days.
And what was I thinking about? Well, that's another problem. We are constantly thinking but hardly ever do we get something of what we had thought.
Anyway, all my questioning went through the same old thinking of what am I doing here and which is my purpose, whether or not should I be doing what I am doing, and how long is this going to last.
Honestly, I think I cannot complain about my life. But we are human beings, aren't we? We always want more, we always want to improve, sadly and luckily at the same time, cause it's not nice at all to be a conformist.
What is a conformist but a person who does not complain? What can you expect from a conformist? Absolutely nothing. For a conformist, everything will always be alright, and his/her life means nothing but the mere act of living. And by the mere act of living I mean the basic things of our life: eating, sleeping, working and having sex. If a conformist has all these things, then everything will be alright for him/her. Neither social nor sentimental problems matter to a conformist.
Do you know what conformists are capable of? Blanking their mind.
Venía a actualizar el blog (que tiene nuevo formato) con una inspiración terrible sobre la pesadilla, la nightmare en inglés, la yegua de la noche...
Pero descubrí después que Borges, Robert Graves, Shakespeare, Víctor Hugo y otros más ya lo habían hecho,
una verdadera decepción...