Wednesday, December 30, 2015

So, what is a MUD?

So, what is a MUD and what does the word MUD mean?

MUD is an acronym that can mean Multi-User Dungeon, Dimension or Domain, other uses for the letter D may be applied as deemed fit (no pun intended).

A MUD is a program that is run in a computer that can be either a low-end PC, which nowadays for 2015 it can even be run smoothly in a Raspberry Pi, or a high-end server. It can be run in different operating systems such as Windows, Mac OS X or Unix/Linux to name the most commonly known and the users access to it by using a Telnet, SSH or GUI (Graphic User Interface) that can connect through a name, commonly known as a DNS (Domain Name Server) such as or an IP address.

A MUD can combine and is not exclusive to elements of Role Playing, Hack and Slash and Social Channels, other uses can apply such as the Builder Academy which is, or was, a MUD where one learns how the innards of the MUD work in order to create a world of your own without the need to install it.

Aspects of MUDs can vary as mentioned with the elements of Role Playing being adapted from Dungeons and Dragons, although other systems such as GURPS and BASIC could be used for the purpose of number crunching, which were common in the initial days of MUDs, the Hack and Slashing could be done either PvE (Player versus Environment) or PvP (Player versus Player) using said mechanics. Although Hack and Slash would refer to melee weapons in other cases it also involves ranged weapons and magic, in futuristic settings it could also involve other methods of defeating your opponent such as artillery or bionics but in the end this is more visual than mechanic.

Another important aspect is communication through certain channels, some can only be heard inside a specific range from the player, other can be heard in a region or throughout the entire game, this depends on the channel being used for this purpose.

Communication also helps another aspect of Role-Playing and that is of fleshing your character in order to interact with others being that character. For that purpose there are two additional terms used for this which are known as IC (In-Character) and OOC (Out Of Character). IC means that all interactions and communication with others is done as if you were the character you have built, an OOC interaction is outside of this realm and back into our reality. Some MUDs could be dedicated solely for the purpose of Role-Playing IC with all Hack and Slash stripped out or it could be the other way around where there is no Role-Playing IC and only Hacking and Slashing, the choice is left entirely to those building said games. In other instances the game may have both but Role-Playing IC may not be enforced, in others it could be, or there could be specific areas where Role-Playing IC is mandatory or allowed with Hacking and Slashing, including PvP, is frowned or forbidden.

MUDs have been around for more than thirty years, since the early 80s, while not new to the game genre it belongs to a minimal percentage of the on-line games currently it was back in its day it held the position of “Multi-Undergrad Destroyer” at some campuses where it was common for them to spread, this joke in turn to the time students spent on them.

There are also hundreds of versions that came to life after the official first MUD, which came on-line somewhere in 1980 and ended in 1987. DikuMUD is probably one of the most famous, yet not the first copy, of MUD. Some of the derivate from the original MUD are:

Dead Souls MUDlib
Discworld Mudlib
Fuzzball MUCK
Lima Mudlib
Merentha Mudlib
Nightmare Mudlib
TMI Mudlib

This list of MUDs is just but a few that can be found on the Internet nowadays, the reason why so many of these exists is due to the open nature of the MUD project, one can follow through, for example, on the steps of DikuMUD and create a new version based off from this, such as CircleMUD, as long as the person modifying and renaming the final product retains the name of the original authors giving them credit for their work. An example of this would be the original DikuMUD, created by Sebastian Hammer, Tom Madsen, Katja Nyboe, Michael Seifert, and Hans Henrik and a derivate called CircleMUD created by Jeremy Elson.

Another considerable aspect from the original MUDs back in the late 20th century and the early 21st is the type of players and environment, originally MUDs were restricted to college campuses due to available hardware and software, also being a place where programmers had the opportunity to work on their own projects which included MUDs. At the 21st century the hardware and software necessary for this purpose are readily available through and considerable cheap, the important difference would be the interest there in MUDs and text games in general, with a constantly growing population more interested in graphics and less by a storyline, also an importance would be the way people communicate nowadays.

The inside working of a MUD is quite simple but it doesn't build itself from the ground, there may be a pre-built world or certain inner workings already defined but the world is created by a Game Master or Implementor. The four basic concepts used in a MUD are MOBs, OBJects, ROOMs and TRIGgers.

The first one we would talk about would be an area, an area would be a perimeter of a rectangle, to give us an idea, a ROOM. The way it applies in a MUD is a bit more complicated, while it may put a limit to an area it could be as small as the head of a nail to the whole universe, in a single area or room, there is no up, down, left or right, front or back, not unless you define this inside the room itself. Care must be taken when building and connecting the rooms with one another as it works different to our logic. Room 1 can have an exit to the west but it will take you nowhere until you define Room 1 connects to Room 2 through the west of Room 1 and if you are not careful enough you can be trapped in Room 2 if no exits indicating another room exist.

There is also a peculiar feature in some MUDs, namely CircleMUD, called Buildwalk, inside OasisOLC,. Buildwalk allows you to walk in any particular direction and continue to build connections between rooms, just as if you were creating a mine, but the same care must be taken with rooms and connections as going in circle will not connect the last room with the first one.

MOBs, which could also be known as an NPC (Non Playable Character) are entities inside the game which could be considered as animate objects, persons, monsters, you name it. There is some debate as from what originally the word MOB means and if it's supposed to be written as MOB or simply mob. Some say the word MOB means Monster Or Beast and other say it means Mere Ordinary Beast also it has been said that the acronym MOB comes from the acronym NPC. But what does a MOB/NPC do? Well it can be involved in a rich Role Playing Adventure or it can be just a mere monster that can be killed by a PC (Playable Character). The NPC is much like a PC, it can carry objects, it can speak if programmed to do so and it can even interact with other players, there is a famous case in which Builders and Coders took time, too much time if you ask me, to construct a MOB that would answer back to players and even appear as a playable character if anyone typed the WHO command, WHO allows players to see who is on-line at the moment, their level, their class and even a title, if the MUD allows it.

OBJs, best known as Objects, are items that the player can use inside the game to protect, attack, consume or assemble, can be worn, thrown, burned, etc. ranging from all kind of fantastic weaponry, armors, food and drinks and even some other minor yet interesting objects can enter this definition. It all depends on the Builder, which is the one in charge of constructing them, on how they will look like, what function will it have inside the MUD, and not less important the grammatical ability of whoever is creating the object.

TRIGs, a trigger is an action that runs in the background of the MUD, something such as the weather changing from sunny to rain, a trigger can be activated by the player doing a certain action or by a timer, probably by entering a room or talking to an NPC, the trigger may do nothing more than send text to you or it could probably kill you.

An example of a trigger would be this:

if %actor.is_pc%
     say Metallica rocks!
     emote viciously headbangs while throwing the sign of the beast!

First of all this is a MOB trigger and was activated by the player saying the word Metallica. Then the MUD will analyze first of all if the actor that's saying this is a Playable Character, it can also be triggered by other commands and variables, it all depends as stated what the Builder intends to do with it. At the end we see that the MOB says something and then emotes something, we finish this command with the variable end to tell the MUD it's all it’s supposed to do otherwise it could cycle or crash the MUD.

With that said now we have to pass to the Administrative Tree of a MUD. In a MUD there can be personal working directly in the MUD and outside of the MUD. The Inside Section consists of the "Wizards" of the game, also known as Gods and Implementors. The general structure of the MUD consists of at least one Implementor, which is the leading figure, and then the Builder, Moderator and RP Divisions, to call it in a way. The Outside Section consists of the Coders and sometimes Builders and Implementors, who may be doing two jobs by doubling as Coders. These figures are responsible for keeping the MUD running in perfect shape and also of fixing any internal problem, like errors in the code.

The first line, the so-called front line, consists of the Moderators which are the ones to keep everything in control inside the game, mostly the channels and teaching a lesson to players that just keep bugging everyone (guilty as charged there). They are probably the least admired or considered but their job is important in order to keep balance and order.

Second, also very important, are the Builders. They are in charge of constructing the MUD infrastructure, they are the architects. Their design comes to life with time and effort, sometimes they are free to build up whatever they want, sometimes they have to build what they are told, it differs but the last one can be very annoying especially if you can't let your imagination run wild.

The Role Player Gods are considered to be expert in the topic and also have extended knowledge of the storyline, when it's an original storyline it would be recommended that the creator of the story explained his ideas and was the Head of Role Playing to keep everything under control until the other responsible for Role Playing can get up to date.

The Coders are probably the most important thing in a MUD, without them the MUD doesn't exist or expand, internal issues such as that MOB that shows up for no reason after 6 AM at the newbie area and kills everyone or PvP being removed at random intervals, maybe that Sword of Orcs +3 you have crashes the server whenever you hit something that isn't an orc, all these are verified, or can be verified, by the Coder to understand the source of the problem. Of course there are several MUD types out there and are free but those who can create an original code for a game, for example EldhaMUD which uses an original code, could be known as Gods of MUDding for this simple fact.

The last is the Implementor yet he is the leader of everything, he can be head of Role Playing, Head of the Builders and Head of the Coders, although without knowing much about these subjects it's of no use but many Implementors like these exist.

With this I conclude my little review of MUDs and how they work, I hope this has given you a little insight as to what it is and how it works and if anything is missing do let me know.

Thursday, December 24, 2015

Trivium Concert Review (2006/2007)

[This review was done somewhere back in 2006 or 2007, I don't have the exact date but from a note about Trivium new album (The Crusade) coming out I would say it was either November or December of 2006. Text has been left mostly as is except for grammatical corrections where needed, comments are in parenthesis. -2015]

Trivium at SOMA with Guest Bands The Sword and Protest the Hero

Now business as usual with this review, let me begin from the point of exit which was Tijuana.

We had decided to gather at Bola’s house at 3:30 PM. Originally 6 of us would cross the border… only 4 crossed in the end, at 4 PM we had quickly made our way across the international border of San Ysidro by foot and awaited for Chopper, a friend of ours, to meet us. By 4:15 – 4:20 we took the trolley from San Ysidro International Border and made our way to the San Diego Old Town Station. Something I loved about the trolley is that we crossed through Little Italy and Barrio Logan, I always wanted to see Barrio Logan and now I can proudly say I made it out alive!

By around 5:30 we had reached the station and the bus delivered our sorry asses to SOMA, oh sweet SOMA, at around 5:45… we had about an hour and fifteen minutes free so we just roamed the fuck around and went to a Target nearby where Bola and Edgar bought Trivium's new album, The Crusade, which many consider a complete rip off of Metallica… some consider it the best material from Trivium. Your choice. I myself bought Slayer Christ Illusion and I can call it respectable.

At around 7 PM we went inside SOMA and saw this band playing some Rock and Roll which we didn’t get the name but they had this small pit going around. (And I never got the name of the band so to this date they remain unknown to me)

A little later we would see Protest the Hero which actually made a really short set list due to their second guitar player being trapped in transit across the San Ysidro border, quite ironic in fact, and due to this they played a song called “Fuck the Border”. I can’t say much about them as I had never heard them but they had their thing and the bass player was insane. Also they had this I just don’t give a fuck about you attitude which made me laugh. (Traffic across the border has always been an issue, we laughed quite a bit at the comment and the cover song, to this date, evades me but it was fucking great)

Next was The Sword… and being honest their life show wasn’t that good… there was too much fucking distortion and you couldn’t hear the voice of the vocalist which was actually one of the guitar players. They had their thing going on and actually some of their songs made me headbang but there was no pit with these guys… pity for them to be honest.

And then, excuse me like half an hour later or a little more, Trivium. I personally can't say they’re good or bad but Trivium have their thing going… whatever it is. As I have always said even if I don’t know the god damn song I’ll headbang to it and yet again I was right in the fucking front of the stage where I was throwing my horns (This happens to me a lot, for whatever reason I end up at the front). To me the highlight of the show were the covers, we were all fucking confused when they began playing random shit and specially with the dammit and sweet home Alabama, but when Master of Puppets came it was the shit… except for the asshole they brought up on the stage to sing who had a really fucked up voice (Who am I to talk, right?). And we were making fun of Edgar because we wanted to throw him onto the stage so he would “sing” a song from a group he doesn’t like :D

Set List

enter of the conflagration
like light to the flies
suffocation sight
ember to inferno
becoming the dragon
a gun shot to the head of trepidation
covers: judas priest "breaking the law", blink 182 "dammit", rammstein "du hast", metallica "seek and destroy", megadeath "symphony of destruction", Sweet Home Alabama and master of puppets"
dying in your arms
to the rats
anthem (we are the fire)
pull harder on the strings of your martyr

Yet again the fucking pit went brutal and in the end the pit expanded business like usual like in SOTU (Sounds of the Underground) and this time Edgar and Chopper were on the fucking pit during the entire concert. (I have never had the condition to run around for more than a couple of songs, respect to those who keep at it all night long)

In the end we had a shit load of fun. Bola and Edgar actually got their new record signed by the members of Trivium. Some pictures were also delivered which have been annexed to this review! (Pictures are somewhere but for privacy I did not add them)

Now after this Bola and I had the wonderful idea of going to an AM/PM to eat some shit which made us lose a bus and then we went to Tower Records, which is going “Out of Business!” (The store actually closed next day) which made us lose another bus. We managed to reach the damn trolley just to be informed it would be detoured into a different route. At 1 fucking AM we were informed there were no more trolleys to San Ysidro so we had to get a cab to the border and then another cab to get back to our respective places… fuck it was a good time. (And I had to work the next day in the morning, falling asleep at work had never been so fun)

Loot of ye concert!

1 unused Trivium ticket
1 used Trivium ticket
1 In Flames, Come Clarity CD
1 Slayer, Christ Illusion CD
1 The Sword, Age of Winters CD
1 Protest the Hero, Kezia CD
1 “Never Trust Public Transportation” memory attached to my brain (Not that I trust public transportation much for that matter)
Unknown Quantity of Water Bottles that were flying all over the fucking place (I remember keeping a bottle all the way through, unopened, lol)
-67 Dollars used to buy the discs, public transportation and food… mmm food

Yet another good show that we managed to get to even with all the adversities. Fuck yeah, we also had a chat with the guys from Trivium (and a small cultural barrier to say thanks to each other that ended up in a fist bump) and I told the bass player (Paolo Gregoletto).

“Dude we made an hour and a half from Tijuana across the border using the trolley… we’re happy to be here man”

The First (Re-)Encounter - Part I

The First (Re-)Encounter

A black-clad figure, face unseen, walked slowly through the empty and forgotten streets of the city of Agnos. He avoided no one, not that there was much life left around, but he managed to pass through unsee through what little was left around without getting their attention. Eventually the figure reached what liked like a hole carved on the side of a building which led to a dimly light reinforce concrete hall

Once in front of the hole he placed himself just in front of two cylindrical robots standing still with long assault rifles being held, their eyes, a simple red crystal ball in the middle of the cylinder, produced mechanical winces every now and then as if looking for something, their bodies or extremities not moving.

“I must speak with him” Said the figure covered in dark robes, his voice was deep and strangely hollow, when he spoke his squared jaw was slightly visible, a marking glowing when light hit, then it was all back to darkness. When he spoke the robots immediately pointed their rifles at him, the one on the left turned on floodlights on his shoulders in order to blind him and submit him but as soon as he approached the figure gave a few steps back. “I must speak with him” He repeated and the robots remained still.

“Entrance is forbidden” Replied the robot on the left with an almost human voice, his rifle still pointing at the robbed figure and almost eager to pull the trigger. “No humans allowed, leave”

“Calling me human is slightly offensive but I will let this pass, this time” Replied the figure again and raised his right arm, a sleeve with two white lines at the end of them came down to reveal an almost bone like hand with silver like markings that glowed with the light. “I must speak to him out of an old promise and business that we accorded a long time ago”

“Entrance is forbidden, fleshling” Replied the left robot and before he could continue the figure interrupted him.

“Stop waisting my time!” The robots fired a couple of shots at him but nothing happened, it was as if they had gone through him with no effect, the sensors on both units indicated there had been rapid movement for an instance but it was too fast to calculate the trajectory, by the time they tried to release a second burst the right unit had suddenly been pushed against the concrete wall with arms and legs dismembered, the left unit floating slightly above the ground with no arms or legs either. “You will serve me well”

“Stop this, I order you to stop this” Said the left robot in a strangely preoccupied tone, the figure laughed at the request and walked towards the hallway, the robot went in first before the figure managed to reach the entrance and violently flew through the hallway triggering machine guns and lasers to fire at him as he crossed, by the time the robot hit the ground it was nothing more than a bunch of scrap metal.

“Paranoia is the drink of mad kings” Said the figure as he crossed through the hallway without any sort of response from the mechanisms installed throughout the hallway, he kept going through the bunker like structure until he reached the end, into what looked like some sort of vault that could withstand a nuclear strike or something of the same caliber, inside of it strange filaments hung from the ceiling and the walls, their neon purple and blue pulsated rapidly as if they were sending something to a central monolith like structure that glowed in a strange yellow and green pattern, a massive humanoid like figure standing just in front of it as if it was examining the structure for something, it was covered in giant slabs darkened metal and unknown white markings, on his right hand he held a long staff with a golden sphere on the top that swirled, clock-work pieces moving slowly and ticking at strange seconds with a white glow produced every time they moved.

“You” Said the humanoid figure in a strange mechanized voice with no visible accent, he turned around and hit the ground with his staff, at the center of his chest a steel circle covered in some sort of transparent glass and inside a swirling dark sphere, his face seemed human but as his chest, arms and legs, it was covered in the same type of pulsating filament surrounding the room. “What do you wish of me, Prophet? Your time is long gone in this world and the other”

“How long has it been, Lord of Machines, was it since the Battle of Agnos that we have not seen each other?” The Lord of Machines remained silent, it gave a few steps towards the dark-clad figure and hit the ground with his staff.

“When you betrayed us” Replied the Lord of Machines in a sober tone, the dark-clad figure laughed and walked towards the Lord of Machines who did nothing in return.

“Lord, I did not betray you, I gave you the possible outcome of the battle if you followed through with what I had proposed, not if you did what you deemed logical or fit in your situation” The dark-clad figure went around the Lord of Machines and then stood a few feet away from the monolith, standing still in front of it he removed his hood to reveal a face made of pure evil, skin sticking back to the skull, beard reaching almost the upper part of the chest, eyes with nine iris forming a cross of sorts, elongated eyebrows and a series of silver like dots surrounding his eyes, nose gone and instead a small hole in its place, ears sticking to the back of the head as if held by something and hair reaching below his shoulders. “You did not forget your end of the bargain, did you?”

“The treaty became null the moment you betrayed us” Replied the Lord of Machines, the Lord walked towards the figure and stood next to it also looking at the monolith.

“Following orders is a basic necessity for the success of the plan which in turn takes me to the reason of my visit. I need the favor repaid and before you say no I have a proposition for you”


“It has been a long time since the Battle of Agnos and I know you with to have complete control of it, for the last five hundred years it has been your only purpose and I can help you achieve it”

“I will not be led into another trap”

“It is that or nothing, Lord, and at this point in your career there is little space for you to negotiate. Should I keep you calling Lord of Machines or shall I baptize you as King of Nothing?” The Lord of Machines violently hit the ground with the staff, breaking a small portion of the concrete, his right arm shaking from the impact as the staff kept vibrating in position.

“State your business then!” Replied the Lord of Machines seeing the man at his left side.

“It is time to fully claim your title, Lord of Machines” The man grinned as he turned to his right side to see the massive hulk standing next to him.

“For what purpose?”

“I need you to come with me to another planet, we have chaos to bring forth and you are the agent of destruction that I need. Imagine, a new planet, resources to bring forth your Empire to others, subjects to do this task for you, what else could you ask for?”

“Your inhuman age and purpose have always intrigued me, you are indeed the Destroyer if you wish me to come forth with said purpose. Tell me, how do you plan for this to happen?”

“In due time, Lord, in due time you will come to fully understand my powers at full capacity. For now I ask you to gather all your troops and get ready for the incoming battle to retake Agnos”

“Words come easy out of your mouth”

“Words are simple connections of actions, metaphysical taken to the realm of possibility, what I say is true because I have said so”

“I remember the same five hundred years ago but not the same result you proposed”

“Proposing” The Destroyed walked to the monolith and turned back to the Lord of Machines. “Is not what I do, I give you facts that if run through as I speak them will give you what you wish for. If you do not follow through as I state then only doom awaits”

“Following through with your plans is illogical, the end result is not what you promise” The Destroyer smiled at the remark and while doing so shook his head.

“It never ceases to amaze me how mechanical and cold you are, doing the logical thing is not always the answer to a problem, a problem has many solutions not just the one that seems the obvious to you”

“Logic and mathematics are the key cornerstones of the universe, everything else is just a flaw with poor to no results obtainable”

“While I do not debate either one of them you are to fight as I tell you in order to win, if you win at Agnos you win at Apacea, if you win at Apacea you win at Emersons Gate and if you win at Emergons Gate you have an open road to Cydonia”

The Lord of Machines remained silent, he processed the idea of slowly managing to obtain those victories and eventually pushing through to Cydonia and then out of Mars. Mars had become a human colony hundreds of years ago and while devoid of the most important minerals it served as a base of operations for further exploration of the galaxy, it also served as a safe-zone for dangerous theoretical experiments that could produce cataclysms on Earth. One of the most important experiments was undertaken by a group of scientists at Cydonia which managed to create a sort of two-way gate to travel through to unknown spaces, the problem with the gate was the consumption of energy and becoming unstable too fast for long travels, that taken into consideration it was a one way trip for the Lord of Machines and his army, if they could produce enough energy and maintain it stable for long enough it would be no problem to go through with this plan.

“What is your grand plan?” Asked the Lord of Machines, no tone of excitement, intrigue, nothing, a plain monotone tone of voice.

“Settle the dispute in Agnos first and then we shall speak about ”

“You are, in human terms, a despicable creature who gives drops of water to a thirsty traveler of the deserts. In time we shall see if what you speak is true”

“Have faith, Lord, for it is a necessity that drives me to you and your success is part of that necessity, deliver to me this first instance and I shall reward you accordingly” The Destroyer covered himself again and walked back to the hallway. “End the dispute, unite the greater race of the machines and destroy all living things”

“You mentioned that the last time, your failure to end the human race means only victory to us” Replied back the Lord of Machines, silence. The Destroyer disappeared in the hallway, the Lord of Machines could not sense him further down or across the hallway, he had banished just as he had done the first time they had met.


Wednesday, December 2, 2015

Pulsar es morir

Cada vez duele vivir mas, cada pulso duele mas, cada respiración me hunde mas hacia un banco de arena donde me desvanezco, un grano de arena mas en un mar perdido en la eternidad del tiempo, donde uno se derrota a uno mismo paso a paso y donde la piedra se quiebra tan duro que se debe empezar desde el polvo que queda.

Tuesday, October 6, 2015

Valley of the Obelisks

There was silence, it reigned everywhere.

The great vaults of knowledge, they were called, structures so big that it was impossible to accept that mankind had built them at one point in their short time on this land. They were dark, they were cold and they were lonely, man was not made to step into such hellish places, not anymore at least, a religion unknown to this world that they cherished was now so esoteric that few dared venture into.

Some went as far as to call it hell itself, the dark valley that glowed so deadly when the sun came out that it could kill birds and burn the skin of those who were foolish enough to walk through the structures, other simply doubted the veracity of said location since only a few had ever returned to talk about it, the majority keeping it to themselves, the only clue the scars on their bodies which no one would dare do unto themselves, the rest decide to ignore this place as it does not bring any benefit to the communities, if it did not help the humans of older times how would this help them now?

One of the elders of the community that had walked this earth for many moons and suns mentioned that these place, which he knew was not the only one of its kind, held vaults of immense knowledge and only worthy ones would be able to acquire such knowledge. He never made it clear how they had to get the information out of such vaults, he did state that the worthy ones would know, he also made it clear that there were traps of many kinds still live inside the vaults but again made no clear statement on how to find them or go around them, he was not clear if rituals or prayers were needed to go through, he simply stated to them.

“Do it, have balls”

The words of the old man sank onto the youth surrounding him, the challenge, the thrill, the recognition for going into such a dangerous place and coming back as a messiah fit well with their idea of heroism, to travel to said vaults and come back with something, anything, would prove their true worth to their community, they wanted it and wanted to be as brave and wise as him who had gone in his youth to the vault and returned with the small silver and gray stick hanging from his neck, the true final proof of his deed.

It was set then, the younger members of the tribe would travel to the biggest of the vaults and go into the deepest bowels to retrieve anything out of them, this only when the farming season was over, the weather reached bearable levels and provisions would last them long enough to survive their perilous journey.

The journey was longer than they had expected, many desired to continue but desisted as they thought that it was not worth it, they left their own provisions and returned with only enough to make their travel back, this process continued until only one was left, the words impressed in his mind, soul and heart, he wanted and desired to reach this valley and he achieved it after seeing one full moon pass by, he was impressed and terrified by what he saw from the top of a hill, he had respect for what was there and remained silent as such in order not to offend whatever was beyond.

There were dark and gray roads, some of them had missing bits and others were cracked, small monoliths decorated the larger path towards the enormous obelisk like structures that the old man had mentioned to them, it looked as if they were build from glass but how could this be, glass was fragile and would break if hit and the glass here stood many persons tall up to the point it reached the clouds, on some of the buildings he noticed dark stone but he could also not figure how is it that they were placed together, most buildings he had seen back at his community were small and constantly needed repairs but these seemed to be standing here for so long it seemed nothing could damage them.

This valley could not have been built by humans and if it was then they had been instructed by demons to do so, demons of greed with no soul, of vices, with ambitions so great they would dare defy the gods of nature and work against them, there was no question here, humanity had been punished for such work to the point they had forgotten about places like this and went back to live in the wild, with good reason, was the idea, if such a places had brought forth the end of the old humanity then it was better to leave it as it was.

Then it came back, the old man speaking and the ambition to bring back something to prove worth, but was it worth to bring such punishment back to the community, was it worth to do this and greedily show everyone what he had done to be praised as if he was a god amongst them, no, it was not worth it, this was the way of old humans and demons, it was not worth it to bring back the horror of what once was and should never be again, the decision was made and the return started.

Once back everyone gathered to receive the only one brave enough to go through into the valley, they were intrigued as to what was brought back but when he presented himself empty handed the old man smiled back at him and at the story he told him.

“I am disappointed but at the same time I imagined as much, you don't have the balls, get away from me”

The crowd dispersed quickly, it is then when he noticed and understood what the old man was doing and how he had stopped him, he had been tainted by the demons living in the valley, it was pointless to listen to what he told them anymore, the old man wanted to bring back a dead world to their community, their greed, their defiance and their eventual destruction, to do his will was to repeat the mistakes of the past and he was not willing to do so.

By the next farming season he had grown wiser and observed how the next batch of young men traveled to the valley, tempted by the sweet words of heroism and worthiness, it was like this for many generations and would continue to be so, for their nature was to understand through trial and to learn by mistake.

Sueños de Septiembre

¿Estaba joven? Vi un edificio viejo, no recuerdo bien que hacíamos pero al entrar al edificio estaba gente encapuchada completamente como si fuera un saco para café lo que les cubría por completo el cuerpo, parecían gusanos, en la cara tenían dibujos que parecían como manchas de rosharch, estos observaban otros dibujos que tenían exactamente frente a ellos.

Los cuartos alrededor indicaban grados y la palabra para entrar al cuarto, en algunos cuartos se podía observar gente que se encontraban en el mismo estado de jorobado, encerrado en esos capullos mientras observaban los dibujos tipo rorschach.

-¿Este es el lugar?- Pregunto uno de los jóvenes perteneciente a un grupo parado justo enfrente de un edificio perfectamente cuadrado de un color café acabado, contaminado, sin ventanas y con una rampa visible de lado que parecía continuar hasta el ultimo piso del edificio. -¿Seguro?-

-Es el único edificio que tiene estas características, dudo que encontremos una mierda así en kilómetros o incluso en esta parte del mundo- Respondió otro joven que terminaba su cigarro y tiraba la colilla de lado, el ponía mas atención en los símbolos ocultos en la piedra sucia, estaba hecha así con ese propósito y solo aquellos que supieran que buscar lo sabrían, muy inteligente pensó.


-Viajamos un chingo como para rajarnos y dar la vuelta, ¿no?- El otro joven suspiro mientras buscaba algo en el edificio, el simplemente buscaba señales de vida de algún tipo pero le daba la impresión de que miraba una clase de bóveda o tumba olvidada.

-Vamos- Sin dar prisa caminaron hacia la rampa y de pronto se encontraron con otro grupo que no decía nada, estos simplemente se remitieron a caminar en silencio y cada uno paso a un piso diferente. Sin saber realmente hacia donde tenían que avanzar decidieron ir al ultimo piso y empezar ahí.

El interior era seco, paredes blancas con alfombras azules, unas puertas de cristal con bordes de metal negro era lo unico que separaba esto del exterior, puertas blancas con pequeñas ventanas visiblemente reinforzadas daban vista al interior de los cuartos, la mayoria de estos vacios.

Entrando y avanzando ligeramente encontraron una interseccion y en esta, a la izquierda, se encontraba una mesa de madera con cuatro sillas, en una de ellas se encontraba uno de los sacos y pudieron examinarlo con detalle, tenia la forma de una persona, parecia una persona, no decia nada, no parecia hacer nada, su respiracion era demasiado ligera pero existia, sobre el rostro, sobre la bolsa, una hoja de papel con una extraña mancha de tinta que parecia extenderse de manera equitativa, la mancha parecia pertenecer a una placa de Rorschach pero ninguno de los dos podia reconocerla o saber si realmente era o no, en la mesa, frente a la bolsa o la figura, una vela blanca sobre una base dorada que parecia quemar eternamente sin consumirse y frente a esta otro papel con una figura que no correspondia con la que tenia sobre el rostro, la inclinacion y ubicación daban a entender que la intencion era mirar directamente la imagen y concentrarse en ella sin importar la oscuridad o lo visible que fuera..

A ambos les extraño lo que observaban pero decidieron no molestar ni cuestionar el motivo, simplemente pasaron de lado y encontraron una puerta abierta en donde se encontraba un cuarto con algunos libreros, oscuro, con una vela descansando sobre otra mesa al fondo, un papel descansando justo frente a esta, cerca de un librero lleno de tomos gruesos y viejos, y otra figura fija en una de las sillas, igual en una bolsa de yute, su rostro cubierto por un pedazo de papel con una mancha diferente a la que tenia la figura fuera de este cuarto, ligeramente al lado de la puerta, afuera, se encontraba una pequeña placa que decia “GRADO 5” y debajo de esta “PALABRA DE PASE: “. El hecho que la ultima parte estuviera vacia despues de los dos puntos les llamo la atención, parecia como si hubiera algo escrito pero no podian distinguirlo y tomaron en consideracion que entrar a aquel cuarto sin saber mas de eso no seria lo apropiado.

Continuaron por el pasillo, seguian sin saber exactamente que debian encontrar dentro de aquel lugar que se volvia cada vez mas oscuro, de pronto se topaban con cuartos vacios, abiertos, las placas indicando nuevamente grados y palabras de pase vacias, ocasionalmente se topaban con un cuarto con alguien adentro bajo las mismas condiciones, los ignoraron y continuaron hasta que dieron vuelta al lugar y salieron, la luz incandescente del sol los cegó por un momento pero de alguna manera sentían que lo visto les había iluminado.

Sunday, September 6, 2015

Taco Haiku

I have failed thee,
No guacamole you asked
My honor tarnished
Like those stains you hate

Monday, August 10, 2015

Metal Espacial

La nave comenzó su descenso hacia uno de los puertos de la estación en Dédalo Menor. No era la gran cosa, una nave minera que había sido sacada de algún centro de reciclaje y reventa que fue modificada para ser un transporte menor sin ninguna clase de aditamentos mas que la cabina principal y motores enormes que podían transportarla a velocidades exageradas que la harían difícil de manejar.

-¿Cuanto nos pagaran por esta mierda?- Pregunto el guitarrista sentado en el asiento del copiloto, descansaba ambas piernas en una consola que no servía y nadie en la nave tenia idea que hacia, este vestía como un metalero de los antiguos ochenta, los ochenta de finales del siglo XX terrestre, con una guitarra en forma de espada que descansaba a su lado derecho.

-Veinte mil créditos- Respondió el vocalista, el que manejaba la nave o al menos hacia como que sabia que manejaba la nave al mover algunas palancas y presionar algunos botones en el momento indicado, este vestía ropa militar de finales del siglo XX terrestre con un peinado tipo glam que le hacia ver como alguna clase de ave.

-No me jodas- Los suspiros eran de enojo y desesperación, tenían meses que no podían conseguir un concierto o trabajo decente que no los mantuviera al margen de la hambruna.

-Era eso o quince mil créditos en cupones para materiales, que de verdad no nos caerían mal para reparar este pedazo de basura-

-Es la misma mierda y este pedazo de basura no necesita que invirtamos en el, lo que necesitamos es conseguir una nave que nos deje salir de esta ruta de mierda para buscar mejores lugares-

-Si, yo se, pero no podemos pedir mucho cuando nos hemos metido en tantos problemas con las leyes de los sectores aledaños y somos buscados en dos galaxias por destrucción de propiedad y en Orión, bendito Orión-

-Bueno ya que, vamos- La nave eventualmente cayo de golpe sobre los seguros magnéticos de la estación y dada la luz verde por la estación el grupo salio con sus instrumentos, algunas bolsas y cajas que movían por medio de plataformas de anti-gravedad y lentamente avanzaron por los pasillos de la estación, pasillos que parecían estar oxidados y en algunas partes reparados a la mala con lo que habían encontrado. Caminando por algunos minutos les dio indicio de estar perdidos y no fue hasta que se encontraron con un hombre con la cara recubierta de pedazos de metal que pudieron pedir direcciones.

-Eh viejo, donde estamos- Pregunto el vocalista quien agito la cabeza levemente tratando de acomodar unos cabellos que le cubrían la vista

-Ustedes, pedazos de mierda espacial- Dijo el hombre con cara de metal y gabardina gruesa que cubría algunos otros pedazos de piel recubierta por metal, este apunto al grupo al momento que hacia una mueca que parecía mostrar enojo aunque esto podía ser confundido fácilmente con algunos espasmos que tuviera en la boca.


-Les pagamos para que vinieran a tocar hace media hora-

-Hijo de puta- El vocalista trato de esquivar la posible represalia por lo que había dicho -¿Sabe como es cruzar la nebulosa Capri Segunda a esta hora? Carajo, este sector es una mierda con su trafico de entrada y salida, las malditas puertas cobran como si fuéramos a visitar Sigmund II-

-No me importa, les daré diez mil, no- El hombre de metal alzo los ojos mientras que su brazo derecho y rostro seguían haciendo temblaban, después de unos segundos este regreso la mirada al vocalista -Siete mil quinientos y digan que fui generoso con ustedes-

-Pedazo de grasa malnacida- Dijo el baterista rápidamente mientras avanzaba hacia el hombre pero el vocalista lo detuvo con el brazo izquierdo, este vestía como un punk de los antiguos ochenta terrestres.

-Me siento tan ofendido, corazón- El hombre de metal soltó una carcajada que eventualmente evoluciono en una tos flemática, una vez que este había liberado las suficientes flemas continuo -Tienen diez minutos- El hombre cojeo hasta una puerta que estaba casi al final del pasillo y desapareció en lo que fuera el interior.

-Puta mierda, maldito antro de cuarta que ha de manejar este tipo- Dijo el guitarrista con una mueca de desprecio en el rostro

-Si, con barra de quinta lo mas probable. Ya estamos aquí, ya que le vamos a hacer, la verdad no quiero regresar con las manos vacías- Dijo el vocalista y los gruñidos de sus compañeros dieron fe de que concordaban con el. El grupo entro y observaron lo que fue alguna vez una bodega ahora transformada en un bar de mala-muerte, las mesas estaban atiborradas de todo tipo de especies de este sector y del siguiente, criaturas que nunca habían visto también adornaban algunas paredes y barras de acero que pasaban por las partes mas altas del techo y donde incluso el servicio llegaba por algunos robots que escalaban o flotaban hasta ellos. La musica estaba bastante alta, como les gustaba, y daba indicios de un buen sistema de sonido del cual podrían abusar cuanto quisieran; el publico parecía ser de su tipo también al ya estar creando algunos viciosos mosh pit en el medio del bar, donde los patrones presentes no se acercaban.

-Ya vamos a tocar e irnos, este lugar es una mierda- Dijo el bajista mientras comenzaba a mover su equipo hacia el escenario, este era un raro en el grupo ya que su vestimenta era un simple traje pegado al cuerpo de color negro, botas de un gris metálico y una chamarra de principios del siglo XXI terrestre que estaba hecha pedazos y se mantenía unida por medio de algunos parches de bandas.

-¿Que puta madre vamos a tocar en esta mierda de antro?- Pregunto el guitarrista mientras subía su equipo al escenario y comenzaba conectar su parte del equipo al sistema de sonido.

-No lo se, algo clásico, ya veremos, lo que salga- Respondió el bajista quien sacaba su bajo, un instrumento adaptado de una hacha de protones que había encontrado en una recicladora de equipo de guerra.

-Esto va a estar de la verga- Dijo el vocalista mientras ponía de pie su stand para el micrófono, lo amarraba con algo de tape gris que traía en una bolsa junto con un micrófono deshecho y unos cables pelados y soldados.

-Pueden cerrar la maldita boca y empezar, ya me quiero ir- Dijo el bajista mientras terminaba de conectar su bajo y probaba la ecualización de su amplificador, pesado y sucio le gustaba. El vocalista conecto su micrófono y miro a la gente dando vueltas, ignorándolos, el ecualizar el equipo no les molestaba ni parecía obtener alguna clase de respuesta del publico en general, solo algunas miradas molestas que les miraban por unos segundos y después regresaban a lo que sea que estuvieran haciendo.

-Bien- El vocalista tocio un par de veces hacia su lado derecho y continuo -Somos Necrópolis y venimos a tocar en este pedazo de mierda flotante-

Las criaturas en el mosh pit pararon rápidamente y miraron a la banda en el escenario, la musica paro unos segundos después y las voces callaron mas rápido de lo que esperaban, todos esperaban algo o nada, los miembros de la banda se miraron los unos a los otros y el baterista fue el primero en comenzar a dar gritos en el micrófono.

-¡Vamos pedazos de mierda, uno, dos, tres cuatro!- Después de dar unos golpes con las baquetas para marcar que iniciaban la canción, después de esto la banda siguió y comenzó lo que parecía la musica de fondo de un violento campo de batalla, los gritos del vocalista se perdían inmediatamente entre la batería que parecía una ametralladora y la guitarra que parecía mas una sierra eléctrica, el bajo no se quedaba atrás con explosiones que parecían los pasos de un gigante.

La duración de la canción fue irrelevante para la gente del bar, el infierno mismo parecía ser desatado en el medio mientras mas y mas se unían al vicioso circulo que seguía creciendo hasta llenar buena parte del bar, mesas y sillas habían sido aplastados o volaron por el aire, vasos y botellas quebrados en el piso, cabezas o mesas, mientras la intensidad de la musica crecía la violencia lo hacia y cuando bajaba este no se detenía solo se mantenía igual, la banda disfrutaba ese tipo de respuestas pero habían estado en suficientes lugares como este para saber como terminaría todo.

Paso mas rápido de lo que parecía, la mitad de las canciones en su repertorio habían pasado y todavía no cumplían con el tiempo que les habían marcado. El vocalista hizo algunas señas a los otros miembros del grupo y después indico al publico a lo que todos le respondieron con una positiva.

-¡Que quieren, algo mas rápido o mas pesado!- Grito el vocalista marcando la ultima o con un grito largo y agudo, el centro levanto extremidades y gritaron de vuelta pero era bastante marcada la división entre los que respondían.

-¡Mas rápido!- Grito un lagarto gigantesca que alzaba ambas manos y cola desde un lado de las criaturas que gritaban a todo pulmón.

-¡Mas pesado!- Grito un raro tipo de cangrejo humanoide con ambas tenazas levantadas desde el otro lado del grupo.

-¡Mas rápido!-

-¡Mas pesado!- Ambos se miraron y siguieron gritando hasta que comenzaron a golpearse, pronto se unieron otros a los golpes y el centro del bar se transformo en un circulo vicioso de golpes y patadas.

-Todo por siete mil quinientos créditos- Dijo el guitarrista mientras hacia una mueca, una criatura con forma de araña subió al escenario y agito sus extremidades.

-¡Ya toquen!- Grito la araña mientras parecía tener un ataque epiléptico.

-¡Abajo, hijo de puta!- El bajista agito su bajo en forma de hacha y le dio un golpe a la araña a la cual le corto dos de sus brazos superiores y después la cabeza de un segundo golpe, con una patada tiro el cuerpo el mosh pit en donde se miraba que la violencia se salia de control. -¡Estoy hasta la madre de esto, la próxima te vas a la verga!- El bajista miro con odio al vocalista quien le miro de vuelta con indiferencia antes la situación.

-Esto va a estar mas cabrón que Orión- Respondió el vocalista

-Esto ya es mas cabrón, mira eso- Mas criaturas comenzaron a subirse al escenario.

-¡Desmadre!- El baterista saco una escopeta de doble barril recortado y disparo ambos cañones hacia un humanoide de hielo que había logrado subir al escenario, este exploto en una nube frígida y fragmentos pequeños de hielo que caían en todas direcciones, rápidamente comenzó a cargar su arma daba vueltas en el mosh pit, rápidamente comenzó a recargar el arma mientras observaba lo que seguía subiendo al escenario.

-Vámonos antes de que nos vaya peor- El grupo buscaba una salida mientras golpeaban todo lo que trataba de subir, no les importaba el equipo ya, eso lo podían conseguir de vuelta o comprarlo barato en alguna estación pirata, sus vidas era con lo que posiblemente no podrían salir viendo que las salidas se encontraban bloqueadas.

-¡Tendremos que hacer camino!- El bajista se lanzo al mosh pit y partió a un lagarto a la mitad con su hacha al momento de caer, la criatura cayo al piso temblando y de momento varios se alejaron rápidamente para no sentir la furia de aquella arma que vibraba mucho mas furiosamente que ellos.

-¡Vamos!- El grupo se abría paso hacia la salida principal, antes de poder llegar a esta se encontraron con un toro espacial de batalla, un enorme minotauro con brazos mecánicos y cuernos que salían de ambos lados de su cabeza que fácilmente podían empalar a todo el grupo.

-¡Un toro de batalla!- Grito el vocalista mientras paraba a menos de un metro de la criatura mitad hombre, mitad toro y cien por ciento maquina de muerte.

-¡Soy un toro de batalla enojado!- Grito la horrible criatura mientras sacaba una nube de vapor de su nariz, los ojos muertos observaban al grupo y mientras lo hacia dejaba caer un hilo de baba.

-No, estoy seguro de que eres un toro de batalla normal- El toro de batalla lanzo su cabeza hacia atrás y antes de que pudiera impactar el vocalista saco una pistola automática de grueso calibre y disparo al pecho del toro un par de veces para después terminar con un disparo hacia la cabeza que voló buena parte del cráneo.

-Ya vámonos- Continuando con su camino, el cual cada vez se abría mas por temor de los luchaban de morir ante el grupo, se vieron detenidos nuevamente por un grupo de guardias de la estación especial que entraban soltando golpes con sus bastones eléctricos a todos los que se les ponían enfrente.

-¡Por orden del código de orden de esta estación espacial quedan todos arrestados!- Exclamo el hombre que guiaba al escuadro de ocho hombres, todas las criaturas del mosh pit decidieron que la suerte de los guardias estaba marcada y se abalanzaron contra ellos.

-Eso si que se va a poner interesante- Dijo el baterista mientras miraba como varios de los guardias quedaban aplastados en el piso y su equipo pasaba a las manos equivocadas.

-¡Vámonos ya carajo!- El grupo salio disparado, en uno de los corredores cerca del bar se encontraron con el hombre que los había contratado.

-Eh, ustedes, por que no están tocando- Pregunto el hombre, este fumaba una especie de cigarro que producía un olor penetrante que mareaba.

-Tal vez sea por que se puso cabrona la cosa y no queremos acabar como mierda aplastada en el piso- Respondió el vocalista, pistola aun en mano.

-Con que no quieren trabajar. Roko, Yoyo, encargense de ellos- Un hombre de tres metros, corpulento, recubierto de alguna sustancia negra que le hacia ver completamente liso camino al frente del hombre mecánico y junto a este se paro una enorme mantis religiosa de unos dos metros de altura que agitaba sus alas intermitentemente mientras pasaba sus enormes garras por su cabeza.

-Hijos de la chingada- El guitarrista se lanzo con su guitarra hacia el criatura oscura pero su golpe no le hizo nada, el impacto creo una vibración sobre el pecho del hombre que visiblemente podía ver como pasaba por todo su cuerpo y desaparecía, la criatura simplemente extendió su brazo derecho y con su dedo índice regreso el impacto de la espada al guitarrista el cual salio volando al otro lado del pasillo, el vocalista de inmediato apunto su pistola y disparo pero la bala fue absorbida por la masa de la criatura.

-Mierda- El vocalista volteo hacia la mantis y comenzó a disparar, esta evadió ágilmente las balas hasta que el arma quedo vacía lo cual produjo un rostro de horror y sorpresa en el vocalista -¡Alguien haga algo!-

-¡Ya dejen de hacer pendejadas!- El bajista tomo su bajo como si fuera un rifle y toco una de las cuerdas, una onda de sonido salio del frente del bajo y la enorme criatura cayo al suelo hecho gelatina.

-¡A la mantis!- Exclamo el vocalista mientras recargaba su arma, el bajista tomo su turno contra la mantis y volvió a lanzar una onda de sonido, la mantis volvió a esquivar pero esta vez no por mucho -¡Mas rápido!-

-¡Mátalos!- Grito el hombre mecánico mientras trataba de sacar algo de su pantalón, se miraba bastante alarmado ante como cambiaba la situación.

-¡Hasta aquí llegaste hijo de puta!- El vocalista apunto al hombre y disparo, perforando parte de su estomago, el hombre toco los alrededores del agujero con su rostro alarmado.

-¡Cabrón, ayúdanos!- El baterista disparaba y recargaba tan rápido como podía, la enorme mantis era un enemigo formidable que esquivaba y a su vez se acercaba tan rápido como podía.

-¡Voy, voy carajo, voy!- El vocalista levanto la pistola y comenzó a disparar hacia la mantis la cual decidió escapar por los corredores tan rápido como pudo.

-¡Vámonos, por favor!- Exclamo el guitarrista

-Espera- El vocalista se acerco al hombre gordo ahora en el piso, de el tomo un pequeño bloque dorado con bordes azules. -Al menos no nos fuimos con las manos vacías-

El único que pierde eres tu

Durante el año pasado uno de los titanes de las telecomunicaciones en los EEUU se vio en problemas al entrar en conflictos con la CWA, Communication Workers of America, que es la unión de trabajadores, técnicos de campo principalmente para la rama de las telecomunicaciones, donde se encompasa los servicios de telefonía, internet por teléfono, internet por teléfono y su mas reciente servicio conocido como FiOS o FTTP, Fiber to the Premises o Fibra (Óptica) a la Casa. La unión tomo la huelga al momento que Verizon decidió modificar el contrato original por motivos de la recesión que se vive desde el 2008 y como protesta la CWA marcho por las calles y recibió apoyo general de la población mientras que el Corporativo buscaba como solucionar este evento a la vez dejando todo tirado, a medias o simplemente negando su existencia. Es aquí donde entra una polémica muy grande en la cual dudamos de quien esta extorsionando a quien. Por el lado de la Unión, el sindicato de trabajadores, se pelea de una manera sucia para forzar a una Corporación, su enemigo natural, para que ceda y les entregue lo que piden, los derechos que les han costado 50 años obtener y mantener. Para ganar esta guerra ellos se ponen en huelga en la costa este y comienzan a funcionar como una clase de guerrilla donde los piqueteros se la pasan cortando los cables ajenos de negocios importantes, incluso de ciertos servicios públicos como estaciones de policía, bomberos y hospitales, provocando mayor presión para que la respuesta les sea favorable y rápida. Por el otro lado la Corporación no se deja torcer el brazo tan fácilmente, mientras que los trabajadores pudiesen tener la razón en sus demandas la Corporación puede contratar personal auxiliar o incluso reubicar trabajadores para realizar las tareas de campo en lo que entrena al personal que estaría encargado de realmente atender todos los problemas que siguen apareciendo y los que se acumularon debido a la huelga.

Pero a final de cuentas no importa cual sea el problema o como se va a solucionar el único que realmente pierde aquí es el consumidor, el que paga los servicios y no los tiene, el que necesitar que su linea quede funcionando y se encuentra parado por que dos lados están peleando por sus bolsillos, el único que termina perdiendo eres tu, usuario final, que no puede hacer nada al respecto y terminas secuestrado.

Sunday, August 9, 2015

La casa al borde del fin del mundo

Cuarto día

No se cuanto va, no cabe ya lógica en mi cabeza de nada. Esta gente cada día se degenera mas. Me temo que todavía no llegan al grado de demencia al que yo he llegado, de considerarlos, me temo, comida. No, debo mantener la cordura, no soy como ellos, no soy un bárbaro.


No existo. No pienso. El tiempo pasa. ¿Realmente pasa? Me mata el hambre. No hay nada. Solo ellos y yo. Son comida. Como en la televisión. Los tiene hipnotizados. Los puedo comer. No. ¿Si?

Si el infierno existe, debe ser una bendición…

Hambre. Sed.

Lo mas humano y compasivo hubiese sido morir en aquella casa llena de locos irreverentes, se me hubiera hecho mas sencillo comérmelos y ver cuanto mas aguantaba.

Eso quedo en el pasado.

Vivir en una casa perdida en el espacio es lo mas extraño posible, conocer nuestro destino es terrible pero terminar aquí es algo que nunca hubiera creído, es algo mas allá de todos nosotros.

Este lugar es horrible, placas de hielo enormes sobre placas de hielo enorme, extrañas y perfectas figuras se forman con cada soplo de este aire helado que casi revienta los huesos, grandes estructuras de metal retorcidas como si hubiesen sufrido de un intenso fuego y después fueron congeladas para ser recordadas hasta el fin del tiempo, estatuas de todos tamaños y figuras de criaturas que fueron, sus rostros petrificados con un horror que les domina ante todo, extremidades hacia todas direcciones, algunos objetos de formas extrañas me confunden y la vista se hunde en ellos, únicamente siendo rescatado de esta trampa por el incremente frío que nos rodea.

¿Pero quienes somos nosotros?

No se si los que me siguen son realmente sobrevivientes o filamentos de mi mente que ahora viven como otros yo dentro de mi.

¿Todo fue real para empezar?

Escucho una voz en el viento que me llama y llama… Dios, si existes, ayúdame y guíame en este momento donde no se que carajos esta pasando.

La fuente

Océanos, Mares, Ríos, Montañas, Nubes
Al final todos llegamos a la fuente, la matriz
Todos vemos y tocamos la luz

Oceans, Seas, Rivers, Mountains, Clouds
In the end, we all go back to the source, the womb
We all see the light

Thursday, August 6, 2015

El castillo en la Colina

En esa colina olvidada, donde esta aquella fortaleza derrumbándose sobre el espero mar esmeralda, es ahí donde grandes hombres vivieron y cayeron, el castillo tiene boca y nos cuenta la leyenda de hombres nobles y justos que defendieron esta tierra de los cuales destacan tres.

El primero es Abmon, hijo de Adon, formado tal cual guerrero con una espada potente y un pecho que podría destruir a sus menores con solo sudarles encima, sus brazos eran como las torres carmesí en las cuatro colinas, adornadas de bulto sobre bulto, con venas parecidas a ríos y hombros de montaña recubiertos únicamente por los tatuajes de Kadam y Janim, los hermanos de la fuerza y el valor, decorando de arriba a abajo por sus brazos.

A el lo conocí en una situación precaria donde mi vida se vio al filo de la navaja. Fue en una campaña donde nuestro grupo trabajo bajo el mando de un señor que no recuerdo, pero si su crueldad ante nosotros y los continuos retrasos en los pagos. Durante una de las batallas mas brutales que llevamos acabo en una serie de colinas donde nos estábamos defendiendo, caímos bajo ataque del señor de aquellas tierras el cual llenaba sus filas con caballería pesada y piqueros, los caballos no llegaban al tope y aquel valiente que lo intentara caía bajo nuestras lanzas pero fueron los piqueros los que nos sorprendieron con su ataque que rompió con nuestras delgadas lineas, correr era la única opción que quedaba en ese punto y lo hicimos, fue ahí cuando caí, mi muerte venia a todo galope con una lanza que estaba a uno o dos segundos de impalarme cuando escuche el relinchar del caballo, el sol estaba enegrecido ante una figura gigante que había logrado cortar la cabeza del caballo con un solo golpe, todo paso tan rápido que no lo comprendí hasta escuchar al jinete gritar en horror al momento de su caída.

Al regresar la mirada hacia la figura tapando el sol lo vi a el, el potente hombre que había dado muerte al jinete, era un bárbaro pero no buscaba sangre o de lo contrario hubiera ya acribillado a su víctima en el cielo. Sus ojos me miraron de vuelta y después apuntaron hacia los campos frente a nosotros, venían otros jinetes y la única salida era jugar en equipo, yo como arquero y su defensa lejana y el como el verdugo para todo aquello que llegare en rango. Fueron varios los que cayeron de golpe a hacerle compañía a su compañero, no fue mucho lo que duro ese equipo ya que la retirada era necesaria.

En el campamento todo era caos, la retirada fue en desorden y cada quien hizo como pudo su escape de ahí. Nuestra llegada fue tardía ya que no quedaba mucho en pie y todo lo de valor, en especial lo que estaba en la tienda de nuestro señor, habían sacado alas y caído en jaula ajena.

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

Tirania y Libertad

Soy fiel creyente de la tiranía y la opresión, por eso lucho por los derechos humanos y la libertad.

La bolsa

Esta bolsa es como un agujero de gusano. Entran cosas, desaparecen y eventualmente reaparecen cuando quieren y como quieren.

La bolita historica

El historiador es el que se mueve, no la historia, y mientras se cuestione que si un evento o las fuentes son esto o aquello y va de arriba para abajo mientras que la Historia, una pequeña bola, sigue en el centro. El Historiador se cuestiona coloquialmente -¿Y donde quedo la bolita?- cuando el se pierde.

A blind candle in darkness

Imagine living in darkness, nothing around you besides a violent pitch darkness, a candle that burns eternally in front of you and yourself. Living your life in front of that candle may provide you with a sense of safety, order and hope but at the same time it blinds and the darkness, or blindness it produces, is far more lethal than the one that surrounds you as it will deliver you into a non-existent Utopia. Turning to your sides and staring at the darkness will serve you wisely as you may understand what surrounds you but do not stare long enough or as Nietzsche said, the abyss, the darkness, will stare back at you. The solution is to live in darkness and walk through it with light but never to stare enough at both to be absorbed into the maniac obsession of order or the inhuman necessity of chaos.

This one must be learned before going crazy on both ends and terminating logic and the defense of the mind.

Tuesday, August 4, 2015

La Pizza

Mi mommy estaba hablando el otro día con mi hermana que va al college y ella le hablo de un tal “Bendetti”, de una cosa que se llama pi-ca-na y de los reos y me dio curiosidad.

-Sis, que es “picanha”- Me dijo que era muy pequeña y que no debía interrumpirla, que estaba muy ocupada con las selfies. Mi sis nunca me quiere responder nada, dice que todavía no entiendo pero si se por que yo uso el internet.

Primero busque al señor y dice que son unas pizzas, que son las mejores, pero todas son las mejores y no entiendo. Pero creo que estas si son las mejores por que están desde uno nueve fi fo y esos son muchos años, mas de los que puedo contar con todos mis deditos.

Después busque “picahna” y me dijo que era macana, esta tonta esta cosa por que no sabe entender lo que le escribo. Después me dijo que era pica-nia con esa cosa rara encima de la que no sirve para nada y me dijo que era una carne muy rica.

Que tonta es sis, lee libros de pizza y “picanha” y no tiene nada que ver por que el pepperoni viene de un pepper tree y no de una vaquita, ay que tontos.

Lo que no entendí fue lo de los reos pero mi primo el guero que es del otro lado me dijo que es la gente que esta en el big house, en el joint, donde pagas muy caro pero no entiendo por que se quedan si esta muy caro, por que no simplemente se van.

I'm confused.

También me dijo que Daddy estuvo ahí hace mucho tiempo pero yo se que eso no es cierto por que escuche a mommy decir que daddy estaba en un rancho con chivos y chivas pero dicen que a mi daddy le pegaron con un cuerno de chivo y no entiendo como le pegan por que un chivo no se quita los cuernos y menos para fumigar.

No entiendo a los grown-ups.

The Atlantean Thrones and the Valve

I can’t sleep, again. I see them all over me, figures that look like demons, human with horns of all kinds, twisted and spiraling in differ...