Justin's Blog

I shouldn't have but I did I shouldn't have laughed but I laughed I shouldn't have but I did I should have helped but I didn't I could have but I didn't I shouldn't have ignored but I ignored I shouldn't have but I did I should have greeted but I didn't  I could have but I didn't I shouldn't have lied but I lied I shouldn't have but I did I should have confessed but I didn't  I could have but I didn't I shouldn't have played but I played I shouldn't have but I did I should have worked but I didn't  I could have but I didn't  I shouldn't have kissed but I kissed I shouldn't have but I did  I should have waited but I didn't I could have but I didn't I shouldn't have hated but I hated I shouldn't have but I did I should have loved but I just couldn't I could have but I just couldn't  Because I shouldn't have but I did

In celebration of this year's first Friday the 13th here is a new blog post: Free Will is not Free The following is an account of a person who has chosen to remain anonymous. The story will send chills across your spine, and cause you to doubt the very reality of your existence. Do not proceed if you feel you will in any way be affected by these writings.   Have you ever regretted something you did? Have you ever had an instance where you did not know why you did something? There is a very good chance that you have, or that you know someone who has. The reason why these feelings arise will shock and perhaps even change you, and your perception of reality.  My name should not be disclosed, but for your sake, I shall take a pseudonym upon myself.  Yo soy Don Alpirez. Soy un vendedor de una tiendita.  I know it must be hard to follow this story, I am not good at writing. I am trying to tell you th...

XVII DE OBITU One, two, three, four, five... Numerical life river Five, four, three, two, one...

Now, the record shall unfold from the scroll once neglected, and the party hither shall read of a journey ending in the purest tragedy ever taking the flesh. Behold I shall be your  raconteur of this account.  Mankind has granted me many names.  I fancy the corresponding name of the Bard of Avon.  Once, walked on the earth a man of great vanity. His mention, infamous throughout the region, though to contemporary man, he is just another forgotten soul drifting across these symbols of black and white.  And so his story begins: Alexander, lived a full life. This man, despite his young age and small stature gained accomplishments rivaling, perhaps even greater than most men thrice his age.  He was hollow. He Brandished this absence by indulging in wine and prostitutes. Those around him could not keep up, despite being more seasoned in the things of the flesh. These things pleased him, but he continued his sea...

Corazón Verdadero ESCRIBO ESTO PARA ACLAMAR LA BELLEZA Y EL TRABAJO EXCEPCIONAL DE LA REALIDAD. no todos los días los ojos se deslizan sobre una belleza tan maravillosa plagada de tanta superficialidad LA BOCA CANTA ALABANZA, LEE SALMOS Y GLORIFICA A LOS SERES CELESTIALES CON DESPREOCUPACIÓN Y HABITUALIDAD. el alma y la mente, y todo lo que controla se ve afectado por la mundanidad del mundo que crece en más inmoralidad * El hombre se ha acostado en la cama más suave hecha para reyes y también ha llorado sobre barro y heno con mulas, Pero nada se compara con el sentimiento de cortejo, ya sea en un bar, un baile, una biblioteca o en las aulas. Lo que venga después es irrelevante, ya sea el dolor o la compañía, nada se compara con lo que me vinculas. Todas las corridas fuera de casa, las notas secretas y las escapadas secretas, todos los regaños y azotes, para la sensación de mi corazón que estrangulas. * He pasado por un millón de mujeres PERO NINGUNA...

Theodore Roosevelt,  a president known for his exuberant personality, range of interests and achievements, and is quoted as saying:  Comparison is the thief of joy .

The Belladonna of Sadness Sally Wen Mao Audio Spring in Hell and everything’s blooming. I dreamt the worst was over but it wasn’t. Suppose my punishment was fields of lilies sharper than razors, cutting up fields of lies. Suppose my punishment was purity, mined and blanched. They shunned me only because I knew I was stunning. Then the white plague came, and their pleas were like a river. Summer was orgiastic healing, snails snaking around wrists. In heat, garbage festooned the sidewalks. Old men leered at bodies they couldn’t touch until they did. I shouldn’t have laughed but I laughed at their flesh dozing into their spines, their bones crunching like snow. Once I was swollen and snowblind with grief, left for dead at the castle door. Then I robbed the castle and kissed my captor, my sadness, learned she was not a villain. To wake up in this verdant field, to watch the lilies flay the lambs. To enter paradise, a woman drinks a vial of amnesia....