Wednesday, June 18, 2014


fuck this...

i prefer writing in my notebooks.

maybe i'll come back to you some day, in a not too distant future.

maybe not.


p.s. i know you expected this of me. who wouldn't?

Tuesday, May 20, 2014


Today I finished my first year of college...

To be frank, it felt like a continuation of high school.

Or, community college, which I guess is sort of what that is, right?

Point is,
it sucked like a 15-month-old rotten Bertie Bott's vomit bean.
Just, *shudders*.

I study at Aguadilla's campus of the University of Puerto Rico, also known as CORA (no, I do not know what it stands for), which really sucks! Not because the university is bad, but because I've always wanted the evolution from high school to college to be a process where I could start anew; where I would have the chance to be a stranger again and have everything around me be a stranger to me. And I live four minutes away from the freakin' university! Literally! So that's not happening for a while. And that really busts my testis.

The only reason I'm attending it, is a dreadful one. One that I really do not want to divulge much. It is supposed to be beneficial, primarily for economical reasons. However, in about a year and a half, or less (hopefully), I will be leaving to Los Angeles to attend college over there and live with my brother. So a big real whoopty doo for that!

Anyway, I was ready to begin quenching that unstoppable thirst for knowledge I was generating, and I hoped university would've helped (since high school never did, so much), but I felt a bit disappointed when I got there. It's possibly more due to the fact that my interests of studies aren't the university's strong points. This university's strong points are more focused on science (esp. Biology), from what I've heard. And that's not what I'm leaning towards to the most, but that's not the university's fault so I can't really blame them for that, I guess...

Honestly, I think there was only one class that I really got anything valuable out of, this year, and that was my Spanish class. The teacher really cared about making sure the students left with some useful knowledge out of that classroom. Although she would often go on various tangents, I usually found them intriguing. I learned many things, and not just about Spanish. I learned a lot about my own country (which I noticed I do not know much about), politics, history, culture, literature; how to read between the lines better, how to look at things with different perspective, the importance of caring about the work that you do. Most importantly, I really felt like I came out of there a much better reader & writer. I care more, now.

The teacher found it really important that we would understand the knowledge that was being transmitted to us. Not just knowing all the facts and the rules, but actually understanding the way things work and why they work the way they do. I found that to be very thoughtful of her, important and helpful. It's something that, surprisingly, not many teachers do. At least not many did in my high school... nor any of the other professors I had this year in college.

But yeah, other than that class, the rest were a bit of a waste, sadly. I did learn some interesting things in my other classes, mostly about history, but nothing that would really stick with me or that I found enlightening. I might be wrong, if I really come to think of all the things I learned... but right now, considering the things I do remember, which are enough, well, it wasn't much. I did learn a lot about how to detect fallacies in arguments, though, which I guess will be useful to spot in articles that I'll read in the future - probably those which I find myself semi-indulging in my bed at 2 a.m. on Wikipedia on my phone. Those never get old.

Actually, a large amount of my education throughout my life has been quite shoddy, in quality, come to think of it.

Yeah... Tsk.


Thursday, May 15, 2014

Goodbye, Dear Old Friend

I have decided to include some of the written work or simple scribbles that I do every now and then, as part of the blog's contents. 

Here's a narrative poem I wrote about a week ago. It was greatly inspired by a dream I had. 

Excuse me, I am yet a neophyte.


I decided to start the fire myself;
Nobody else was going to do it.
It started out only as a test.
It went so slow,
It hurt so much.

I watched as the fire burned away 
His old skin,
His old soul.
I watched as it turned
His mistakes,
His suffering,
His past
Into ashes.

Fighting Fire with Fire.

The only thing I could do was watch
And wait.

I watched. I waited.

It went on for days & weeks & months.


He whispered.

Soon enough, 
I began to hear
His screams,
His cries.
I began to see
The shadows,
The ghosts that would be, 
Of his nightmares; his dreams.
His heartache; his bliss.
His demons; his angels.

I hoped they would haunt me,
To remind me where I come from,
To remind me who I am.

I must


Dear old friend,
I’ve been sitting beside you
In your deathbed,
Long enough.
I’ve contemplated the wound,
That waits to become cicatrix,
Long enough.
I have remained
For the right moment
To say

The moment is here.

The moment is now.

The moment is this.

A spark.

Nothing but a moment.

Tuesday, May 13, 2014

Dear Reader,

You are most likely a ghost right now, or some other form of invisible embodiment (oxymoron), but that's okay. I talk to Nobodies all the time, so I don't think writing to you will be much different. Who knows, perhaps in a not too distant future you might mutate into a sort of online human form. I will await the moment, patiently. 

Over the years, I've lost count of how many times I've attempted to begin a textual blog with persistency and failed. Here goes another attempt.

To be honest, I've always wanted to do a vlog on YouTube instead, but my camera shyness is indestructible. So I guess this will have to do.

I'm still not sure what this blog will be about... I guess I'll try to create a bridge between streams of consciousness and whatever current obsession I hold. 

[WARNING: My obsessions are quite strong and might get a bit creepy at times, especially when it has to do with another person (usually an artist). I'm not sure how strongly I'll want to expose it out here, but I felt the urge to warn you, just in case. Heh.]

As I previously mentioned, my countless attempts to do one of these have led me to have a pessimistic attitude towards succeeding in it, which I know only provokes my failure more, BUT I am, not so much to my fortune, a current slave to Apathy and Lethargy and until I can declare my independence from those two monsters of conformity, gain my freedom and walk out with my fist in the air /John Bender style/, I will remain in the dark. Only when my two masters are asleep, or imposing slackness on somebody else, will I emerge from my cave, into the light, and convey my mesmerizing, probably worthless and futile opinions and stories (though not more than to what my shackles allow me). 

[WARNING #2: I have been cursed with a very fickle mind. So please try to be as understanding and sympathetic of me as you can when future posts don't harmonize with previously mentioned beliefs, ideals or opinions.]

Alright, so I said what I had to say... I think.
I don't really remember what I wanted this first post to be about.
I guess I should have introduced myself. I don't know if I really did that.
Well, although my names is not really Charles (that is the english translation of my real spanish name, figure it out, it's not hard at all), here, it will be.

So, hi. I'm Charles.
Welcome to this yet to be titled blog.
I hope you acquire some sort of enlightenment through it.

(You probably won't. Sorry.)