Indiana Hitch

:) :) a couple picked me up in their truck. they were so nice! I was changing my sweaty underwear on the side of the road and figuring out if my backside was somehow irritated, when a pickup truck passed on the highway and honked at me. I thought they were either cheering me on or accusing me of showing off my butt in the highway, and I waved back happily just to be polite. So I returned to my backside, and decided to try to make my own cushion on my bike seat, so I got my small triathlon towel and duct-taped it to the seat. While i was doing that, I saw the same pickup truck coming back on the other side of the road, honking at me again. A little perplexed now, I decided to wait for them to see what they wanted to tell me. Then it came back again to where I was, and an old man with a moustache asked me if I wanted a ride. Slightly hesitant because of the "cheat" it would imply on my bike ride, i decided my butt hurt enough and happily took the offer. It's an old couple - they are so nice!!!

dream 2010100405.txt

"Dream last night was quite action-paced. It started out by covering an entire story in which bugs came from outer space and conquered the planet with overwhelming numbers and sheer grossness (and I was a futuristic soldier fighting them in the very corners of drains around the city) which repeated itself over several times (I was trying to get the dream right and win, I guess). But we always ended up losing - the bugs were too many, too resilient, and too intelligent.

My second dream was slightly more realistic. I dreamed I was back in Guatemala, and I was biking on a street on some kind of downhill. I was going pretty fast on the sidewalk, and I noticed a car on the intersection right in front of me, unmoving. I stopped fairly abruptly, not too much, to avoid hitting the car of course, and as I did, I saw the 2 guys in the car looking at me in a very suspicious manner. I knew what they were talking about: "Let him hit us - we'll then take him and be able to rob and kidnap him". They looked disappointed when I didn't hit them, but then another cyclist came from the left on the intersecting street, and him them full-on on the front of the car. Then the two guys got out of the car and started talking to him, telling him that they should go settle the accident somewhere else. He was politely declining, but I knew what the guys really wanted from him. I even knew what they were thinking - "oh yeah, this guy looks like a rich yuppie, we'll get his wallet and his bike, he's a great catch". Wanting to help, but not wanting to get involved, I signalled to him big NO's with my hands and head, not shouting out, and trying to remain out of the 2 guys' sight. I think the guy understood what I was saying, but I also saw the guys noticing what I was doing, so I immediately began biking away, again downhill, scared of the 2 guys who surely must have connections with other miscreants all over town.

Biking as fast as I could through the city, I saw many people in the street giving me hard looks, and then calling someone on their cellphones, and I knew that they were calling the 2 initial guys. I was a target, and I had to escape.

I wandered off onto a narrow dirt trail that ended near a tall chain-link fence. I grabbed my bike onto my shoulder and climbed the fence with it, but right as I was doing so, a couple of park guards saw me and began to chase me. I thought that I was much better off in the hands of guards than of the miscreants, so I decided to talk to them. I talked to one of them on the other side of the fence: "I'm being chased by 2 very bad guys and they want to kill me! Please help, please help". He saw me and believed me, and then he listened to the rest of my story. It was all going well, until another guard on a truck, possibly the head guard, drove by us and told us that some bad guys had learned that I was hiding there, and that we had to move. So I started biking and followed the guards' truck (yeah, I could keep up), and biked away as fast as I could. I wasn't entirely sure why they wanted to kill me or why was I so important to them, but I just knew I had to escape. And that's when my dream starts to fade."

Sterile

Sterile in the fields of correctness and clarity, I've flattened out the subjectivities and the ambiguities, convinced that vacuity was the way to truth. I broke the vases, threw the paintings away, scraped the wallpaper clean off. gave the furniture away, cracked the walls, pulverized the blocks, flattened the terrain, and removed substance out of whatever remained, and inferred, kept, a wireframe model of what could be a home, but no home at all. I have possibilities, ideas, models, concepts, designs, and solid, perfect implications, but barely any implementation. A couple of axioms, a postulate at most, but no more. Why bother with a thing when you have its concept? Why construct a building when you have its blueprint? What is its merit? Following instructions, instantiating a cooking recipe, has no value in the land of the abstract. But to my later dismay, the abstract does not encompass the human mind, much less the human experience, and often I am urged with the need of something that my barren world cannot represent.

Random water thoughts

Today as I swam and as I lay in the jacuzzi, a few thoughts crossed my mind, and I found at least one of them noteworthy enough to be written down.

1. I never get any girls. Why is that?. I'm not horribly ugly or deformed, or have foul manners or hygiene, nor am I really poor. My body is quite healthy, I have an education, I have money, and I am not dumb. However, I never get any girls. Not any. Not one. Every single girl I have pursued has rejected my advances. This lack has been the cause of much sadness and discontent in me, but now I'm trying to dissect the situation and figure it out. What's missing? Why do I always fail? I came up with this hypothesis today while swimming: I do not give them enough attention, I do not try hard enough. Once they express their intention to not upgrade our friendship to a loving relationship, I stop trying. And no girl will ever agree to it at the first try. Is that true? That's what I've heard. Anyway, why is that? Why do I stop trying? The explanation I came up with today is conditioning. I've been conditioned to stop trying, because I have always failed. If I have pursued 100 girls, and I have come up with rejection 100 times, and each rejection hurts... why should I keep trying? It fucking hurts every time. Conditioning. People who fail too much initially will learn to stop trying... it is the logical behavior, given the data. Poor them. And take this from someone in that situation: at one point, you forget how to try harder, and you never do, even if you really really want to. You just don't know how to, and you don't. And fucking shame prevents you from re-learning how to again.
2. I gave a rose to Diane. I was thinking what would happen if I came back next year, and she had died? And maybe Laura would have also died? (I gave her a rose too). That would be weird. Would I think I had the power to kill by giving a rose? I was thinking what kind of applications would that have. Assassination by rose-giving? If I hated some artist's music, I could give him/her a rose, disguised as a fan gift, and let my "property" do its thing. T'would be weird.
3. I was also thinking what will be my method to disconnect? I have too many online accounts - too much of my life invested in virtual realities. Can I disconnect myself completely? I'd like to. Who will I trust with my online assets? Marcelo has been the person most on my mind... Julian kind of surfaced but was quickly rejected. Laura? Too close, too recent, and too concerned. Marcelo seems like the correct person so far.