Aplicación...

Hey con esto de las aplicaciones para iPhone, encontré una para poder mantener al día mi blog! Eso me alegra mucho y espero poder comenzar de nuevo a escribir...

Saludos escasos lectores.

Una vieja historia de "miedo"...

Pocos lectores,
hace unas horas una amiga de la universidad mencionó una historia que escribimos juntos para una clase de Inglés en mis épocas de universitario. Eso me puso a pensar y buscar dentro de mis correos de hace más de 5 años, bendito sea gmail, es historia y que creen... la encontré.

Les dejo la historia para que tengas sueños placenteros y bonitos... hasta la próxima entrada!!
Saludos...

It was a cold December, all the city was covered with dirty snow and a London fog. The feeling of Christmas was in Old Ford air, all the kids where singing and jumping in the streets: Santa Clause was near to come. But there was someone who wasn’t waiting for Christmas just for an ordinary present; he was waiting for his vengeance present.
Clayton Lockhart as a lovely husband; he was a healthy, strong and tall man, with a beautiful black hair, he had a especial love for haunting sport; he lived in a small house in the backyard of the governor’s house, with his wife, Nara, a beautiful woman with long blond hair like a waterfall of light and a face like angel. They were workers of the governor. Clayton was a housekeeper, Nara was the nanny of the governor’s son; also she was in charge of the kitchen.
The governor was Lord Burton Livingstone, a fat, angry man; he lived with Afton, his wife, and Ransford, their son. They all were prepotent.
One sunny March morning, Mrs. Lockhart had a wonderful boy that they named Piper. He was a smart boy, beautiful like his mother and healthy like his father, a perfect boy of a bourgeois society. Afton, being Ransford nanny and Piper mother, she let a friendship grew up between the two boys, obviously, the governor was against that friendship, but the boys grew together almost like brothers.
The years passed like days, Piper was a polite and nice boy but Ransford was just like his father, but against that they were best friends.
One creepy autumn, in a night with beautiful full moon, the kids decide to visit the old cemetery in search of zombies. It was a very creepy night, there where bats flying like night birds, a dense fog were over the tombs, strange sounds that were like cries of people, mixed with a cold strong wind.
-I’m scared Ransford, if my mum knows I’m here she will be very angry…
-Don’t worry; she won’t know we’re here. Look! That’s Lord Basil tomb!! Let’s see if he’s inside or not!
And the kids walked over the tomb; Ransford stand behind Piper and shout:
-BOO!!!
-HA! Don’t do that!!
They continued walking, they found an open coffin.
-Get inside Piper, it will be fun!!
-No, I won’t, I‘m not dead.
But Ransford convinced Piper to enter to that coffin. When he was inside, they started to hear some laughs and steps. Ransford ran quickly and hide behind a rock, Piper stayed inside the coffin, with his heart beating like never before.
-Can you believe that? They made us cave this coffin for what? They think this is something easy.
-Don’t worry, any way, someone will use this. And it will be easy to cave it.
They started to burry the coffin with Piper inside; when Ransford went out of the rock, he didn’t see the coffin; Piper was buried alive. Ransford ran to his house to get some help and entered into his father office:
-Dad! Please help me… Piper… the coffin…. some guys… please come…
Then he started to cry, Mr. Livingstone calmed him down and made him explained what happened.
-Oh my goodness! I have to call the police, go, call them… What have you done?
Ransford ran and call the police meanwhile Mr. Livingstone was taking some money. Two police men were outside the house and the four men ran to the cemetery. When they entered the cemetery, the police men went to the back and bring four shovels, and the four of them start to dig the tomb.
Finally they taok out the coffin, there was a strange feeling that they couldn’t describe: fear, angry… they just were pallid; then they open the coffin:
-It’s too late governor, the kid is dead. We have to talk with the parents so he will have a nice funeral.
-But Finis, we can’t do that. The people can’t know what happened. There must be something we can do.
-I don’t know governor.
-Well, maybe if I give you something that you really want
-It depends…
-Remember the house you were trying to buy? Maybe I can talk with the owner.
-Ok, but, what are we going to do with the body?
-Remember the Millwall Dock? Just use your imagination.
With those words, the police men and Mr. Livingstone took different pads. Ransford was very nervous, but his father was saying that it was another person who dies in that big city.
They arrived at the house and pretend that nothing happened. But in the small house were the Lockhart lived was a big preoccupation:
-Where is Piper, it’s almost 11 o’clock I’m worry, did you know where is? Clayton?
- No darling, I have no idea, I will ask Mr. Livingstone
He leaves the house and entered to Lord Burton house, he walks through a long hall, with windows covered with autumn leafs and creepy shadows of the trees. When he arrives to the bedroom he hears a discussion between Mr. and Mrs. Livingstone:
- Oh my Lord! What have you done with the body? Poor boy… he was just a kid.
-Yes! He was just a boy. Now he is dead and there is nothing we can do.
-And the police? What happened to then?
-Don’t worry, I made that too, no one will know this, I gave them just what they wanted.
-But… What are we going to tell to their parents?
-I don’t know yet, don’t ask me thing that I don’t know. Now leave me alone it’s been a long night, I’m tired and I want to sleep.
-Nara must be very worried, it is her son, and she is a wonderful women.
-I don’t know. I can’t think if I’m tired tomorrow we will see.
With that conversation Mr. Lockhart was having a bunch of feelings: angry, disillusion, sadness; so he decide search his haunting equipment and kill Mr. Livingstone. He entered to his house, his wife was making dinner, he had a dead face, her wife asked him what happened and he just said: “I’m going to take revenge to my angel”, he went out and never came back.
Many winters passed by. The rumours about Lockhart family were running all around the Old Ford. Some people said that Mrs. Lockhart kill herself, other people told that she became insane and entered to the crazyplace. But there was something that everyone was saying the same, that Mr. Lockhart disappeared, no one knows anything about him.
On a cold morning a group if kids were playing outside ye old clock shoppe:
-I’m a princes and a pirate took me to a castle
-Yes! And I’m the pirate!
-No, I want to be the pirate.
-Look there is a boy!
-Hey! What’s your name?
-Yes you come here!
-My name is Piper!
-Oh! What a beautiful name. Let him be the prince!
-Ok, Piper will be the prince.
Then an old man heard that and turns to the kids:
-Piper is that you? Oh my Piper! This can’t be truth, Kids who is Piper?
-He is our new friend.
-Where is he?
-I don’t know. He was here.
-Was he behind me?
-I don’t know. Maybe you scared Piper!
-Sir, go away! We are playing.
-But tell me…
- I don’t know. I’m going to call my mum.
-JUST TELL ME HOW HE LOOKED LIKE!?
-I don’t know, ask my brother.
-He was blond, small, a very nice boy, now GO AWAY!
-But it can’t be! PIPER!
That man started to feel weird; he took out a knife and start swinging like a crazy man. The kids start so shout but it was too late, blood was all over the floor, the snow wasn’t anymore white. Now the man start to cut through their stomach and with the knife write: “Where is my angel?” He ran to hide between the bushes. The owners of the shop went out and call the police. No one understands who was that crazy or angry to do that.
Few days latter a bunch of kids was playing inside a big yard, when suddenly another kid was in there too:
-Hey! Who are you?
- Don’t worry about my name, just hear me. There is someone harming people with no reason, I’m here to help you and stop him. Tell your parents that they need to find me on the dock, I’m under it.
The kids ran and tell that to his father, the man didn’t believe him. So the kids grab his hand and take him to the yard, but there was nobody:
-I’ve told you to stop playing with that.
-No dad, I wasn’t lying, there was a boy.
The dad was worried, so he talked with the parents of the other kids and took a bad solution.
-What are we going to do with them?
-This is the fifth time this week; we should talk with a doctor.
They did that, and the doctor said something no one was expecting to hear: mental health institution.
The kids arrived the next day to the institution and no one hared anything about them, in many years.
The next morning the housekeeper arrive to the home and entered to the owners house, they sill was in bed! But it was 12 o’clock, what’s wrong? The housekeeper notice that the blankets weren’t clean as he expected they were with a blood bath, and when he took the blankets, he looked horrified to the stomach: “Where is my angel?”
The police began an investigation but they didn’t found anything, just other houses with the same patron. Two days latter, someone saw a shadow hanging on the docks. When get closer to see the face he notices that he was bleeding from the stomach, when he uncovered the body he could read: “I’ve found my angel”. And it was a small skeleton under the hanging body.

Cambios...


Después de "una serie de eventos desafortunados", no me refiero al relato de Lemony Snicket, sino acontecimientos desafortunados que han estado pasando en mi vida y en mi familia hacen pensar a uno en muchas cosas: ¿dónde estoy? ¿para donde voy? ¿qué pasará mañana? Toda una gran lista de preguntas que no pueden ser respondidas y las pocas que si podría responder, no quiero.
A pesar de todo esto creo que Queen cantó una vez: The show must go on por lo que he decidido hacer todo un cambio en mi vida. Las personas que me conocen de tiempo podrán decir que eso significa un nuevo tatuaje en mi cuerpo y por curioso o irónico que pueda sonar, es cierto estoy en planes de un nuevo tatuaje. Un cambio radical a mi cuerpo pero que me trae demasiada paz a mi. Después de 5 años de traer el cabello largo, he decidido nuevamente cortarme el cabello y comenzar con una forma nueva de verme y de que me vean. Y por último terminar lo que me dedico a hacer, sin importar lo difícil o molesto que pueda llegar a ser.

Saludos...

It´s official!!

Queridos lectores:
He decidido escribirles y contarles sobre una experiencia que acabo de tener. Todo comenzó una noche de domingo. Esa noche de domingo en particular me hizo darme cuenta de muchas cosas que no he hecho, que he dejado de hacer o incluso que siempre he querido hacer, pero por alguna razón no he hecho. Por lo que he decidido tomar una hoja de papel, en este caso mi compu, y escribir una larga lista de cosas que quiero hacer. Ya tengo una pequeña lista y espero que esa lista continúe creciendo hasta que haya logrado hacer todo lo que quiero.
Lectores, se aceptan propuestas y recordatorio.

Les escribo pronto!

Time travel!!

Robert Zemeckis diría que para poder viajar en el tiempo necesitas un DeLorean, un condensador de flujos, un Mr. Fusion y lo más importante un Dr. Emmett Brown que pueda unirlo todo y así, solo así podrías remontarte a los años 80, 90 o donde tu imaginación pueda llevarte. Pero me he dado cuenta de que en ocasiones no es necesario tener todos esos elementos para poder viajar en el tiempo.
Hace unos días mientras me encontraba limpiando mi cuarto, algo que no sucede todos los días, me encontré un par de cosas que al parecer mientras me mudaba decidí no tirar a la basura!! Eran unos libros y un par de agendas de cuando era joven. Esos libros y agendas estaban llenas de cosas que me gustaban, cintas que quería comprar (por el amor de Dios, cintas), canciones que me gustaban, series de TV, películas, etc, miles de millones de cosas que me agradaban cuando era pequeño!!
Por lo que últimamente me he dedicado a re-bajar todas esas canciones, ver esas películas que me gustaban tanto, series de TV y lo mas curioso de todo es que realmente me remonta a esas épocas, esas sensaciones que tenia y lo mas cagado de todo es que realmente viajo en el tiempo...

Recuerden que el día tiene 86400 instantes para poder buscar esa caja, esas cintas, esos libros y poder viajar en el tiempo sin necesidad de tener a un Doc que nos construya un DeLorean

Saludos

Me, Yo, IooOoO, YOOooO, meEeeE

Gente!!!! Estamos de vuelta con unos meses de retraso, ya se imaginaran: trabajo, fiestas... y ya. Básicamente es lo único que ha regido mi vida el ultimo año, tal vez eso haga que no escriba frecuentemente.

Este hermoso sábado lluvioso con una lista de cosas por hacer inmensa y poco tiempo, he decidido darme unos minutos para escribir y dejar para mañana lo que puedo hacer hoy (refrán bien escrito, pero mal aplicado) ya que tengo una gran queja que sigo sin entender hasta el día de hoy...

Últimamente muchas personas me agregan sin conocerme, son amigos de amigos, amigos de familiares, amigos de la secundaria, preparatoria o universidad con los que nunca o casi nunca cruce palabra. Pero esto no es mi queja, la queja es que el 80% de las personas que tengo en "Facebook" tienen una carpeta que dice "Me, Yo, IooOoO, YOOooO, meEeeE" y todo tipo de variaciones, donde ponen una infinidad de fotos de ellos mismos haciendo diferentes posiciones y salen solamente esas personas, nadie más.
Uno diría que es una forma de reconocer a la persona, como si una foto sola no fuera suficiente para reconocerla, pero nooooooooo, hay que poner una carpeta con una infinidad de fotos que incluso excede en fotos a todos las carpetas y para terminarla de chingar, hay fotos donde la gente se parece menos y menos a si misma y lo único que hacen es generar una confusión.

Creo que podría generar toda una teoría pesimista y destructiva de por que la gente hace eso, pero creo que por eso la gente no siempre me pregunta: "me veo bien" o "te gusta como me veo". Debo de dejar de escuchar a Johnny Cash y Leonard Cohen que solo me estan destruyendo por dentro.

Creo que aun no he desquitado mi pesar de esta por que seguramente en el transcurso de la semana alguien me va a agregar a facebook y tendrá una carpeta similar, o seguramente ya nadie me va a agregar después de leer esto.

Gente espero no haberles quitado mucho de su tiempo y mas que una perdida de tiempo, espero que haya sido un momento de diversión.... yeeeeiiiiaaaaaaaa que estupido soy...

Excelente fin de semana y semana y mes, en caso de no volver a escribir!!

Saludos....

Mi nueva tendencia musical...

Al menos para mí he decidido manejar una nueva teoría de cómo escoger y decidir alguna de las bandas que he decidido escuchar. Esta nueva teoría surgió el martes en la noche cuando moría por una fiebre increíble y no sé si estaba alucinando y realmente lo que quiero hacer no tiene sentido o si lo tiene y la fiebre fue el toque que necesitaba para darle forma. Pero seguramente ustedes, mis queridos lectores, se preguntan ¿pero cómo funciona esta nueva tendencia?

Pues esa pregunta me remota a 1963 (haciendo alusión a un comentario muy utilizado por el abuelo de The Simpsons) cuando uno compraba un vinil en la tienda de música local de la banda que le gustaba. Entonces llegaba a la cafetería o bar local donde estaban sus amigos y salía el tema de conversación. “Hey amigo, acabo de escuchar una muy buena banda, escúchala” Y este amigo con la nueva información de la nueva banda llegaba a su casa y ponía el vinil y lo escuchaba; no se conectaba a internet y buscaba información de la banda o de los músicos que tocan en la banda, solo oía la música que hacían y si era de su agrado se volvía fan de esta.

Así que mis queridos lectores, si tienen alguna banda que por cómo suena pueda gustarme pueden recomendármela y prometo no buscar información de ellos solo conseguir el disco y escucharlos.

Espero que se encuentren realmente bien y espero verlos más seguido por acá.

P.S. Me doy cuenta de su visita cuando me dejan un pequeño comentario, aunque sea un mustio “hola”.

Saludos y espero postear algo pronto!!