:: 7 years and counting:: ----------------------- -------------------------------------------------- ------------------- Two caveats: 1) if you are looking optimism, I can not offer it for now .. again later
2) as I am the hero of my story, I love playing the victim. So please believe me no more than necessary. ----------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------------- I confess before God and all of you who've been sinning muuuuuuuucho of thought word and deed ... (Mea culpa, etc. .)... especially work .. but hey .. That is not what concerns us here .. not dare to meet morbidities details .. hehehe .. for that are the coffee cups! Speaking of cups of coffee, breakfast today I had an encounter with reality ... and this .. The problem is that this is being looking to the past .. and much .. 7 years have passed since I changed my name to Cyanide . Contrary to the wishes of the tree of the genealogies (and genialogias), do not use my middle name as mine, but my first name. This implies that the tree meets a cyanide that does not match what the rest of us know. After so many years (more than 364 weeks, 84 months ... and other load) I realize that I'm still Cyanide does not know how to argue with the tree .. I am the cyanide remains silent and alone after a recount of the arguments, as those who choose beans. Cyanide often afraid of conflict and change ... While I express myself better when I write that when I speak .. perhaps because the written word carries no facial expressions, and can even be digested slowly, and read (which is much more accurate than recall a conversation). try to remember if you break some glass that night .. maybe I did was remove the paper doll was in there, and put someone that looked a bit more my . However, it seems that these events involve more than 7 years of bad luck .. that bad .. not come in the manual. After so many years, even I want to scream that my more than 300 months (almost rather 312) some experience have given me maybe not much, but I'll know something of joy and sadness and wisdom and battles to fight ... shouting that may very well not like taking my life, but I'm trying ... screaming that I am not responsible for making anyone happy but myself to make me happy (and that's a huge responsibility !!)... but never cry .. I only silence, until the words and hurricanes pass ... and put a face on totem but a face that looks like an empty shell of human. The tree speaks to me of how everything is connected, and how my actions can do so unhappy. But the tree does not know that their branches can also make me unhappy ... how to know nothing of the world ... of how the world will devour me .. of how the street is a jungle and I can not survive ... the parable of the black sheep ... of how the future is always black for the black sheep ... In short, the Gospel of discouragement ... So after 7 years, nothing has changed .. we are all the same prejudices, the same cries, the same rebelliousness and the same silence .. Sometimes time does not heal the wounds .. only the dust covers ..
7 years And now? 
:: the next day ... ::
I do not like talking about politics. I try to avoid talking about issues that do not know, and I must admit that politics does not interest me.
I've heard things like "clear, do not care about the future of your country" .. I am interested .. so I'm not interested in politics or politicians.
NAFTA did not write anything and I showed up for blogging because it was already saturated with information. Many of them false , but information itself.
I voted not due to personal reasons, and certain convictions not discuss because they are relevant. I only know that on October 8, Monday, the atmosphere was quite heavy and gloomy, several people were heartbroken and sad and the pouring rain did not help anything. Others were, and still are, outraged, angry, disappointed. Monday was a defeat for 48% of voters in a country ... but maybe in the end lose all. I have fear. Fear of what will happen. Than we are to remove, or steal, or cheat. Fear of being struck by economic apocalypse or social or ecological, or otherwise. Fear of being charged a blank check (as I heard say several people). say that things will improve a lot .. but I have fear of being lied to .. again .. as they have done in a while .. not whether the glass is half full or half empty, or if there is a storm in a glass of water.
hope I'm wrong. I hope we are proven wrong with our fears. But fear has been a constant .. and to have been written ...
live in a country of two letters: Yes or No. .. appear to "decide" the Yes I say "decided" because they support the first-person plural in this case, because the verb can decide including some or much duress.
suppose a sane person, with feet on the ground, say that is time to fight together without divisions, to take this country forward. guess this person would have reason .. but I can not guarantee that I will be that person.
But keep hope .. is nice (rather than beautiful, amazing) to see so many ticos organized by something you BELIEVE .. see how they met, they argued, were reported, they marched they chanted. Do not lose that. Let us not fight ..
As someone very wise said
"Let the pessimism for better times"
guest lime and sand 
: Comedy in nine millimeters: was a stormy night and not because the storm had gone. Cyanide slept peacefully in his bed, dreaming of the beautiful Pacific and Japan and Singapore, Oman and India (I think in that order). And dreaming of the woman who told "But it arrived 10 minutes early to the all-important interview, but was 20 minutes late ..." , and also dreamed of tender-depravity through IM and text messages (Oh, the power of the written word ...). At 3:00 a.m. Cyanide was suddenly awakened by a popping sound, sudden and very strong, from the ceiling with spatial location on the opposite side of the house. Cyanide froze, thinking that Attila and his Huns had decided to go back in time to steal their prized possessions ( which? Cleaner!! ). A few moments (I think there were a total of 6 seconds .. not .. my accountant is on vacation moments) heard of a cat running across the ceiling. Cyanide struggled to regain lost sleep, with eyes like two guavas nocturnal glowing on the barren darkness as the zombie movie more phosphorescent class B. next day had to be at 8 am in beautiful St. Petersburg for occupation-forming, so to get up at about 6, I saw no one awake .. not even myself. As Arsenic Dad met a couple of days (just two pairs of days), we decided to go to Provence (I stole from the palabrilla smoke) to test a well known restaurant. So we were in the car driving Arsenic Papa, Mama Strychnine, Belladonna and this server When I tell the interesting story that Belladonna climbed to the ceiling to investigate a strange hole they found most perfect in the room where the computer from which I write .. that odd .. A Aji de Gallina, a chicha morada, and a strawberry-banana smoothie then return to his beloved Cyanide home with his family (who will not comment on his food .. well .. except Belladonna, the the chicken came out with too much flavor of "El Peje"), and devoted himself to the great task of investigating the aforementioned hole, perfectly oval geometry. So Cyanide rolled up and climbed to the roof (in my family have this strange fixation with trepamientos), and with a stick I got to see if the holes match and bla bla bla. Returning to the fourth question, and check the floor, I found a beautiful piece of LEAD copper colored. Belladonna insisted definitely had to report it, so arsenic and cyanide Dad went to OIJ to file a complaint, and promised that may reach the Eye Inspections that day. Well, actually promised only to cyanide, as the guard kindly explained that now only the complainant can go, because, you see, recently entered a complainant ball with all his people (aka train), and then came the counter-complainant with its own entourage, so imagine that all hell broke out there. Since then, the judge did not allow anyone to enter with the complainant, you see. In order to make a long story that night, arrived on site inspections, and the whole family of cyanide was nervous and excited. Everyone was waiting to enter Grissom's CSI , and cordon off the entire area. So we got rid of explanations that they had to move the compu because you got the water hole, and that Dad had Arsenic have put the claim to be the owner of the house, and a long etcetera. Mom Strychnine was disappointed not to see or a patrol, not a huge bag with very complete team. As for me almost cry of indignation to see the expert to collect the bullet ( of 9 mm caliber, that is, huge ) with his bare hands, and was about to remind the importance of wearing gloves to avoid affect "the evidence." So at the end of the night, I write this, and everyone in my house todies give thanks that God wants Tata while not letting the ball do harm to none of the my family. Not only is the shock .. is knowing that death is a very singracia and "unfair" to die because of a stray bullet. That this is another example of that you always have to be aware of his actions .. or you can do a lot a lot of damage ..
