Monday, August 18, 2014


I really wanted to title this right from the beginning but it would have completely ruined the purpose of my teenage angst. Titles change your perspective they make you write something that omits the truth. Titles are unspoken expectations that can only be met when you betray yourself.

Add this rant to the endless ocean created by children in America who do not know what real suffering is. 

I hate to admit that I actually think the internet will help me through whatever it is that has driven me to this. I hate to admit that I do not know what real human bonds are. I hate to admit it but I am never taken seriously. I hate to admit but I am most likely my only critic. 

I can never think clearly or quietly. Theres a curse in my mind that makes me worried and nervous. People give me anxiety but I am obsessed with them. 
As a child I grew to loathe my family. My young mind thought they were responsible. I hate to admit I am responsible for my sick obsession.

I come from a family were my sibling and I are first generation Americans. My parents left their home to provide us with a better future(just like every immigrant from Mexico). They probably never imagined what a toxic decision that would turn out to be.
I hate to admit that as a young child I grew to loathe my family because there are others who are way better off. To this day I tire of hearing my parents bitch at me because they work so hard, it's an enormous burden on me. They make me loathe the so much because I live in guilt. 

The albatross on my neck is going to haunt me. I hate my family for sacrificing so much for me. My exchange of gratitude for their industriousness(that comes from love) is hatred. 
This hatred is what has destroyed me all my life. I don't want help. I don't want love. I don't want to come from a world where that is the only thing keeping me alive.

I've been handed so much that at some point it loses value to me.

It's extremely hard to admit that I will never meet my own impossible expectations.

I don't want to give up my idiotic dreams, I want to hold on to what I want, I'll die before I give in. 

I haven't felt driven until letting all of this out. I am never going to listen to anyone again. 
My dreams are childish, foolish, dangerous, naive, unreachable. My dreams are generically what most kids at my age want but can never succeed. 
My dreams are what leave some poor guy dead in an alley because no one supported him.
Why do I need approval or support. I have come to loathe my family, i loathe them for reminding me that I am young, naive, stupid, and dependent.

I have come to loathe my family, i hate them for making me hide the kind of person I really am.

I have come to loathe my family for making me hate who I am.

I hate my family for sacrificing so much on someone they don't agree

I hate my family for allowing me to be dishonest to myself and henceforth others.

I hate them for letting me live in fear. 

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Happy Birthday Bram Stoker


Hello everyone my name is Alfredo
I am so new 
I wanted to start off  with a post of my "personal style" but I have no pictures or inspiration. Therefore I decided to start you guys off with a task.Please comment and give me ideas of what you expect.No one cares though. Therefore I will introduce you to a few gothic styles in celebration of Bram Stoker's 165th birthday. With Dracula's influence in our uprisings or daily lives it is only formal that I acknowledge his day of birth. Writers set the stage for media and style.