Sunday, 07/21/02 - 5:15 pm.
I'm trying to...build something new for myself. It's dumb because I really don't know what it is yet. Hi, I'm dumb.
You do not ask, you state. Be pragmatic, be stoic. Question eveything. You do not have to justify your actions.
I made something for Vic with my left hand and red, blue and black watercolors. Next time I'm doing something named track of blood.
This morning I felt consumerism stroke me. I watched the entire show of the Revo Styler (or something like that), some device that straightens your hair and shit. I stared at it, thinking how cool it'd be if I applied it to my own hair. I'd be so happy with a device like that one.
I was in front of the TV, dying to get that. And incredibly, so was my mom, who doesn't believe in those products and keeps me from going to the beauty parlor every month to straighten (and fry) my hair. What an amazing invention for people who's not satisifed with their own hair. I thought of how my life would be improved by having straighter hair that also...shines! Thanks to this REVOlutionary product that also is muscle-friendly. I smiled. I'd be so happy if I owned that, I'd save time and bitching. Look how happy the models are with their straight hair. You'll look prettier, you'll attract more men, you'll find your prince charming and you'll get married. And even when you're on your honeymoon, you can take the Revo Styler with you because it's lightweight.
I'd be so happy if I had that!. Bad statement. Bad. Don't you ever relate happiness to a TV offer product (or any other product for that matter). Don't ever condition happiness to obtaining something material. Let alone use the particle IF.
In philosophy class we just finished this reading about happiness and pleasure. Things give you pleasure and promise you even more pleasure. They keep promising and you keep waiting, and as they develop products, they promise even more. You get attached to purchasing because you're never really fulfilled. You feel pleasure for the short period of time when the product is still new. When it wears out, you're out of pleasure and need more, so you get a new product. And so on. On the other hand, happiness -the reading said- is an attitude.
Of course I remembered all that until the infomercial was over. And still, I hope it goes for sale here. But after feeling like a victim of the consumer system, I won't cling to it. And if it's only sold on TV I won't get it. If it's too expensive, I won't buy it. Fuck beauty-for-sale.
I had almost forgotten tomorrow it's school day. I've been thinking about the orphanage thing and I found out I'm a bit excited about it. Carmen will probably say (one third joking, two thirds serious) I'm a whiny, lazy girl that can't do nothing on her own because her mommy and daddy won't let her and she doesn't dare to ask them and also because she prefers to slack off than to do something. I came to the conclusion that that's all she says to me now, in the few encounters we've had since she hangs out with the pastoral crowd (which means since the beggining of the year). It kind of pisses me off.
It's partly true, but because of what's been happening lately, I really want to change, and especially, I want to tell her to go fuck herself. She puts me down and her constant comments on me being dependent bother me. I know what she'll say about our orphanage task as soon as she finds the opportunity. But I'm not whining. I'm not bitching and I'm not trying to run away from that task. I'm going, and I'm actually looking forward to it. I kind of hate kids. But there's another part that does love kids (of course I love my nephews and niece!!!), and has just waken up to the thought that we're on our way to make contact with a kind of kids that will accept you if you only open your heart a bit. They need someone, they'll offer you everything they have if you only give them just a bit of the appreciation their real parents denied them.
My answer to her: No, that actually boosts my self-esteem because I'm doing more useful things than the president.
Wait, what was I saying? Oh, yeah. Tomorrow is monday. I'm giving Hector my now-deep notebook that also features a gratitous bad word. I'm not looking forward to anything, unless you count I want to see Vic and give him the piece of crap I made (and I know he'll love it). Among the 26 people in that classroom, I think he's the only one who saves me from the outside as well as the inside galaxy of mine. Maybe sometimes Patch, too. Outside the classroom, there's Art and Cel (Art is my classmate, but we're kind of far from each other). The rest are just sporadic smiles, seldom greets and the usual (either intentional or unintentional) leaving out.
Galveston, Texas, was struck in 1900 by a hurricane and 8,000 people died. Thomas Edison filmed a few scenes with his recent developed camera.
Sometimes I think it'd be funny if I could murder myself and wouldn't be consider suicide. To force myself to take pills to death would be such a weird thing, because I'm afraid of pills that are not effervescent nor disolve under your tongue. It'd be a surprise.
Earth should implode in less than a split second right now, to avoid having another dog tortured. Last night, in South America, an illegal discotheque burned down, killing 26 people and a tiger and a lion. They were having a show with fireworks and those animals. I feel sorry for those animals more than for the people. They shouldn't have been there. A tiger in a fucking discotheque? I hate mankind.
- What do you want to be when you grow up?
- I want to be a sniper and save animals.
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