Old news (tu amor es un periódico de ayer)

That is a collection of journals, published in a web page since five months ago, sent me by the first voluntary prisioner of the soul jail; I decided to hide his identity but I can say, his sin (as he said) is to be a sinner not, to avoid anger by doing nothing.
He decided to make prisioner his angry side, during the time lefting of his present life. He decide to publish these journals not anymore, and to put his soul in our hands, only, exclusively. The objective of the sentence is to pay the cost of the fear and self destruction without third part damage or shame. Surely a bad decision but, finally, a decision, a first step.
His Code is Number one, Cell 01001, #0505, "Albert". Our First gest, Youre welcome!!.
This is his confesion:

Fake plastic trees 1-12-2005 8:51 PM
I hate virual friendship, but I tought: what a hell!, some old friend invited me to getting bored in the net and I cant say no. Im the new kid on the block, every day I go walking with my fake puppy by the fake street, greeting fake friends in my fake virtual neighborhood. I buy enought fake meals to a whole fake week meeting a the great fake girl who lives in a fake apartment near to my fake big house in which a big group of fake roomates make me fake funny company. By the way, I discovered she (the fake girl) have a fake great job writing fake journals like this. And earn so much fake money. This is real happines. And the reality, a Tsunami.

Overadapted, overburdened.
4-17-2005 3:17 PM
Im in the beggining of a month without job. Dating myself. A month driving me toward happines. I decided to hide my head under earth. So, in this way, the end of this journal is arriving. Preparing to disapear as we know it.

Dark, black Pope
4-08-2005 8:51 PM
Diýlogo entre monseýor Oscar Arnulfo Romero y el Papa Juan Pablo II: - Comprýndame, yo necesito tener una audiencia con el Santo Padre... - Comprenda usted que tendrý que esperar su turno, como todo el mundo. Otra puerta vaticana se le cierra en las narices. Desde San Salvador y con el tiempo necesario para salvar los obstýculos de las burocracias eclesiýsticas, Monseýor Romero habýa solicitado una audiencia personal con el Papa Juan Pablo II. Y viajý a Roma con la tranquilidad de que al llegar todo estarýa arreglado. ... Sentados uno frente al otro, el Papa le da vueltas a una sola idea. - Usted, seýor arzobispo, debe de esforzarse por lograr una mejor relaciýn con el gobierno de su paýs. Monseýor Romero lo escucha y su mente vuela hacia El Salvador recordando lo que el gobierno de su paýs le hace al pueblo de su paýs. La voz del Papa lo regresa a la realidad. - Una armonýa entre usted y el gobierno salvadoreýo es lo mýs cristiano en estos momentos de crisis. Sigue escuchando Monseýor. Son argumentos con los que ya ha sido asaeteado en otras ocasiones por otras autoridades de la Iglesia. - Si usted supera sus diferencias con el gobierno trabajarý cristianamente por la paz. Tanto insiste el Papa que el arzobispo decide dejar de escuchar y pide que lo escuchen. Habla týmido, pero convencido: - Pero, Santo Padre, Cristo en el evangelio nos dijo que ýl no habýa venido a traer la paz sino la espada. El Papa clava aceradamente sus ojos en los de Romero: - ýNo exagere, seýor arzobispo! Y se acaban los argumentos y tambiýn la audiencia. Todo esto me lo contý Monseýor Romero casi llorando el dýa 11 de mayo de 1979, en Madrid, cuando regresaba apresuradamente a su paýs, consternado por las noticias sobre una matanza en la Catedral de San Salvador. (Testimonio de Marýa Lýpez Vigil, autora del libro PIEZAS PARA UN RETRATO, UCA Editores, San Salvador 1993). -------------- El 24 de marzo no sýlo fue el aniversario del sangriento golpe militar argentino que se iniciý en el aýo 1976, es tambiýn el aniversario del asesinato del padre Oscar Arnulfo Romero en El Salvador en 1980 a manos del mayor del Ejýrcito Roberto D'Aubuisson, fundador del partido ARENA, que hoy gobierna en ese paýs.

Im happy, They re happy
4-02-2005 12:35 PM
Short line above ask the question, whats the matter with you, ah?. Happy news this week are waiting for a customer, an old person said me: there is not a real happiness without a serious danger of stupidity. When near people come to succesfull and happy you dont have another choice to smile. (Pd: peace to the popes hell)

A bout de souffle
3-16-2005 4:29 PM
Catholic religion has a special week called: saint week. This is a while devoted to reflection and religion. A week devoted to "god". But, unfortunatelly, god doesnt know that there is a new and brillant, re super ultra wou! god. He is Money, also called succes, interest, manipulation, bad frienship, and (by other people) "innocence": pure and transparent pragmatical realism; nowadays, anyway, you can realize that people is not as religious as they should be. People drink alcohol, eat meats, have sexual affairs in this week... or, in the other hand, they follow working like donkeys in spite of pray. Those are empty people forced to work in saint week, like ME, patetic people working hard while their job partners are travelling and living a "happy life of sin". But the real sin is not to do this awfull, terrible things that sinners do. The real sin is that we (saint week workers) dont leave our stupid position of victims for making the same things that "sinners" do in saint week. The sin is to renounce not from our jobs for visiting our families and do this awfull things in a remote, beautiful and deserted location. The real sin is that we are part of the new religion, and we love this new sale god enough to accept working in saint week, and in chrismas, and in new year, and in weekends. We, honest hard workers, are the worst prayers of an old god, and, at the same time, the worst sinners of this new super ultra wou! fuking gold god that I hate and love.

Running back
3-06-2005 8:11 PM
Three weeks out of the air. The brain of my PC computer crashed down a single day. Fake house burnt it self in a single moment. Fake life destroyed. An informational heavy piano was over me, but It doesnt anymore. No bugs, no virtual romance, no journals (with english mistakes) Im tired not. Finally Im free. Hey you!, all of you!, Congratulate me! Im back.

Challenge of silence
2-04-2005 6:29 PM
Some female person said me: "Im not gonna talk to you anything again, dont bother me". Let me explain you, I didnt want to smile, I didnt wanna show my happiness about some change in my team work that was positive to me. When she complained me about this, I ironically answered: "Let me make a complete written report about my happiness for the next Monday, please". In my country you can be killed because of not smiling and because of being ironical. Well, I havent been talking with this person the whole week till today. Im making a mental process to understand the strange logic of this bizarre challenge that many people use to do to other people. Talking or not talking, this is the question. Im a very good worker, I had very good results last year and it was part of an outstanding working performance, I was disciplined and this stuff. But this is not enough, I have to smile, I ought to have a big fake smile in my mouth for being accepted and appreciated. No. This is not the truth. People like her use to take unsolicited lovely care of unprotected, fool people like me, and they think that we have to recompense them because of their services in a social way, saying beautiful speeches, smiling, celebrating happy birthdays, etc. Yes I accept that. But Im really not the man for making all these things. I just know a simple, practical and ineffective way to say I appreciate you and Im grateful about your care. This is a very rare way to show affection in my country, and its called reciprocity. Its to pay care with care, confidence with confidence, and paying silence with silence. Actually I could be the world champion of silence if there were a silence championship. Im not uncomfortable alone with my self and closing my mouth, and, in addition, Im sure I dont have to apologize for being like I am. Some question? And, by the hell, I finally did my promise; I made that complete written report that she is not gonna read.

Cute people with awfull ideas
1-26-2005 7:56 PM
Last week was great. I met some new friends in the net. Globalization and spiritual poverty drove me to make a new adventure. I joined in another friendly web site, I made a profile with beautifull pictures (as you already know Im a top ten artist) and a very interesting text about me, and I signed in a very long personality test. blah, blah, blah. After some days I received a friendly mail from some man in any place over seas, this mail said: Dear Manu, Im impressed about your profile. You write very well, this idea about living in a bag the next year is actually amazing. Oh, yes, what a hit!. Im cute and, the most important thing, friendly, a very friendly person able to be loved by every one around the world. Im a top one world class man. Well, some days after I checked up the web seeking for my new best friend. Do you bet what?, my fucking friend was a sexual explicit porno-gay boy. I made a friendly mistake, I selected in my stupid friendly profile the option: dating MEN and women. Hey, hey, im not dating anybody, by the hell, Im going into hiding, friendly people, Im trying to run away from my self, from my working partners and from the people who dont like me. However, I learnt a wonderfull lesson: Gays are the only people that have a very real interest about intelligent profiles and try to make new friends, in a very strange way. Congratulations to this happy people. And finally, I returned to my job with a new perspective: beautifull partners and beautifull boss, they are real people, and they have selected me to make this hard job because of my interesting profile. Some times Im really tired to see them every day, but some nights Im happy to miss them, real, short, midle aged, non good looked people.