Well, I tried that and it's pretty stupid.

Use this:

Works Better

"cumplid vuestro destino, desordenadas almas,
y rechazad lo infinito que lleváis en vosotras"

Charles Baudelaire, Las Flores del Mal.

Conversa

A: ¿Y qué es peor que la depresión? Estás enfermo, tú tienes la culpa de estar enfermo, te das cuenta que estás enfermo, no quieres hacer nada por dejar de estar enfermo.
Yo: Esas depresiones en las que engordas.

After all these years of studying the field, what would you say is the thing we have been doing wrong [...]?

"I've spent pretty much all my years as a scholar studying two kinds of people: stupid people and bad people. What can I say? Results are far from encouraging. In a world of stupid people, everyone would hurt everyone and everyone would whine about it. Then again, in a world of sociopaths, everyone would hurt everyone, and no one would care at all. But most important, if I had to choose something to stick in the minds of everyone out there, is that a world made up of scholars would get nowhere. We're good as we are, avoiding stupid people, avoiding sociopaths, and trying to go on [...]"

- Cellar Heights, en conferencia.

Then again, podría haber un mundo en que todos fueran Mèlanie Laurent.

Ese otro momento incómodo

Cuando con palabras técnicas, te dicen la misma hueá de siempre:

"All You Need Is Love"

Y estás a punto de rebatirles, y no. Tienen razón.
Después, camino a casa, te acuerdas que eso sí lo sabías y el problema siempre fue cómo conseguirlo, y en algún lugar te confundiste y ése es el problema, baby, ése es y siempre fue.

El mensaje cultural del día de hoy es sobre los colores. Son tres: Amarillo, Azul, y Rojo.

Uno los mezcla y logra todos los demás. Así mismo el mundo, según los místicos, se derivaría de la reunión de los elementos básicos que la componen.

Aquí debiese haber una leyenda súper catchy que hilvanase mi post a la reflexión mamona sobre los colores. Pero HOLY MOTHER OF GOD, she's full perfect

Ese momento incómodo...

En el que te metes a tu propio blog y encuentras que las cosas que escribes a la rápida y movido por una idea instantánea están en sincronía con las cosas que dejaste escritas y preprogramadas hace dos semanas, pensando en cualquier otra cosa, y que más encima son una cita.

Damn.

"creíste que bastaba con ser perfecta para ser dichosa; yo creí que para ser dichoso, bastaba con no ser culpable"

Margarita, de veras espero que te equivoques con esta

Hey You

Si aún me lees por ahí, bajo el amparo del anonimato y el silencio como siempre fue,
La hora morada en Valparaíso volvió a ser lo que era antes, antes de todo, con todo el vacío y la incertidumbre y la nohora.

La única esperanza que queda es que el proceso de involución continúe y llege de vuelta a los 17, en este cuerpo de 22, y me dedique a rock & set the controls for the heart of the sun.

Todos debiesen leerlo.

              "Usually, the matter of the abherrant being an over-the-average individual in his cognitive resources, is an underlooked one. Usually it's dispatched as the "genius is a step away from madness" problem. Well it's not. The sociopath is an intelligent person. It's not that he miscarries his or her intelligence away from "the good path" and into the hell of madness; What I'm implying here is that abherrance is not a disease of the intellect, as many pretend, but rather the intellect proposing an alternative to a disorder of the mood or anima. A normal individual would rather fall into a depressed state, whatever the causes are, as a subconscious process, and would not notice it until he or she is deep sunken in it. An over-the-average individual, on the other hand, as he starts from a higher basal state, is going to have both more time and resources to become aware of the process he or she is developing. And here is where the true sociopath starts. While normal individuals' minds would propose whether an active rescue procedure or a less efective defense mechansim, the mind of an abherrant has failed to prohibite a third solution: externalisation. It just takes the process of self destruction that is inherent to depression and imposes it upon its surroundings. Soon it will catch up that the most effective victims are other human beings.

              This is different from earlier theories, proposing an underdevelopement of moral ties as the origin for the sociopath. While I do not deny that process, that is not a sociopath. That is a "sociochild", an underdeveloped. It's like diagnosing someone who has lived his whole life in the vast Mongolian plains, raising horses, with mental retardation because he can't read  or manage to use a cellphone. The sociopath, the true sociopath, has made a choice. This is important both from an obvious legal relevance, but also from a therapeutic approach. The question of whether this failure of cognoscent individual in bridling this aforementioned externalisation comes from an impairment in judgement, and is thus an effect of depression itself, as opposed to a different hierarchy of preferences, where the chance to save the self is more relevant than the transgression to learned moral content, is yet to be answered, and is what I will try to engage in the next pages"

- "The Sociopath", Cellar Heights

Decidí suavizar todas las citas de Heights con fotos lindas para que no se olvide que la vida no es pura Sociopatía.

Algo...

...me gusta mucho en esta foto. Más allá de que ella es espacialmente perfecta y los trazos azules le quedan  desconcertantemente correctos (esa es la palabra... por eso lo desconcertante). 

Hay algo más, algo que está desplazado aquí.

Algo que está mal y bien al mismo tiempo. No sé.