OSETIA (HORMONAL DISASTER, I FEAR, AND YUP, IT’S 6 a.m.)

EN: Warning: This post is over two years old, so it's possible that the views, opinions, links or instructions reflected on it do not correspond with the way I think now or the way things currently work. I have evolved (and so have the World and the Internet), so it might be advisable to just take this entry for a glimpse into the (my) past. :)

ES: Atención: Este artículo tiene más de dos años de antigüedad, de modo que los puntos de vista, opiniones e instrucciones que se vierten en él pueden no corresponder con cómo pienso ahora o cómo funcionan las cosas en la actualidad. He evolucionado (y también lo han hecho el mundo e Internet), así que probablemente lo más recomendable sería entender esta entrada como un simple reflejo del (de mi) pasado. :)

[EDIT 12th September] Specially busy / inspired. Not updating, but up to something :) (Nothing particularly grant, though) [/EDIT]

Last Friday I was going to write about the Osetia don’t-know-how-to-name-it, when even the most critical journalists were being rather optimistic about the rescue operation (at least, the Spanish journalists whom I was listening to) while it was evident that a masacre was happening in that school.

But instead of coming here and try to post something intellectually exciting about it, I just began to cry over my stupid problems because they make me feel stupid for taking me so much time when I should be thinking about helping remove the excess of shit there’s on Earth.

(And shit is not only on “the other’s” side).

And then I feel even more stupid for crying over my stupidity.

I never use strong words for the sake of it, but shit happens, and today I’m too screwed up to avoid using the word shit, mierda, merde, merda, cacat, ScheiíŸe everywhere.

Because shit happens, and sometimes there’s not too much difference between dying of starvation while you are optimistic and hoping for food, and dying of starvation being totally aware that you will never get food.

Optimism requires a great mental effort, and now I feel stupid enough to prefer waiting for more shit to happen without even bothering to believe I could have the slightiest power to avoid it.
Being aware that sometimes I did thought that it was in my hand to do so makes me feel really, really, I mean really, stupid.

No, no great changes in my Earthly life; what it is more: everything seems to be going smoothly (until it turns into shit, because that happens too often in my very own stupid easy life as well)…

I’ll tell you more when this rush of hormonal paranoia has finished.
And that is the worst of all: the fact that my worryings about world stability might be only the product of a temporary bioquimical effect.

Bloody planet. I’m going hunting.

Take care, have fun.
See you soon in a (I hope) less pathetic environment.