My translation about information

I did put the work on it to translate it from Spanish to English and since I do tweek his work sometimes
tweek meaning he is old and great type of journalist although he might be a spy who knows….
I do capture what he tries to convey not word for word so I do tweek it if you will
yet keeping the whole context in mind to make it more personal for the reader
which now a days it seems people like it more, sells more that is the end point.
You are not reading a robotic type of thing.
It is very interesting and extremely useful from day to day type of things
to politics, different type of work environments. For everything in life.
Hit the link if you want to read an extremely interesting person (my father) and read what
will make your life better.

How I invented the model of information that change the world future

The Crazy Priest Philosophy in life

Ben Stiller, great commedy actor and I was watching yesterday one of his movies. For about 20 minutes.
To summarize it, it was a dark commedy about this 40´sh year old man that has a stable job,
son going to the university,good wife, but he asks himself what has he really done with his life.
He´s miserable right?

I ask myself, what have I done with my life. I´m blessed. I´ll keep this short and to the point.
I have been blessed with the art of writing, which I´m pursuing day in day out today. Yet I screw up.
(when I say the words ¨srew up¨ I´m talking about my alcohol addiction¨)
The novel I´m writing takes forever. Forever and a half.
Through hard mental work I´m sober for now. Interestingly some american pshychologists,
consider alcohol-drug addiction a mental problem.Don´t know about that but maybe.

My body is a wreack, literally, start from the pancreas,liver,back pain,arthritis on my left hand,
two throumbus near the heart so I walk 50 meters and I´m tired, and… there are more but I forgot.

Trying to keep this under the 300 hundred words. Which probably Will fail.

My mother did kick me out when I screwed up in college, so
I joined the Spanish Legion. I´m proud of that. With the bad and ugly.
I have had any kind of job you can name, name one, I probably have done it. Even homeless
I´m proud to have my little room in a bad town, full of criminals and I was one of them once,
got out of that life and I saw the world of writing, I´m proud of that too.

I´m proud to re engange with my familly, proud to write, proud to live happy, proud to
get up early do the little exercises I can with my ¨great body¨, hey that is ladies!
you had to see me in my prime….wooooooosa!
I´m just proud of the big things like having spent 5 days literally braking my back to get
my mothers big garden fixed since she wants to sell that house so obviously the better it looks
the better. Proud to have been with her through her almost death experience with cancer.

I never thought at one point I was going to make it until 25, passed that, and at 30 whith the pancreas
they put me in a induced comma, after I seemed to survive I asked the nurse point blank
what where the chances of me living. She said 50-50, got it. No worries really.
But I am proud of living in a shit hole, living and writing in a computer,
,familly and 5 friends that I have.
More than enough for me.

I couldn´t watch that BS movie of Ben Stiller. Tell me a joke, Jeeesus.
And where did the fucking proofread in WordPress go?

Stay Frosty gents and gentesses.

My Life now in 74 words

I see me, I can only function with structure,
being shot at in the army, homeless, now fuckless,
structure and being a work horse, you get distracted
and it all comes to that repetition in your mind and
constant repetition in your acts that it all comes back.
Will I make it as a writer? Fuck, lets give it a go,
with no money flow.
This is my life….now.

Stay Frosty gents and gentesses.

House of pain

Here we go!

House of pain
That´s my name
Absolutely no dollars in the bank account
To hell
That way I can excel
My freaking bank account
Had a terrible disscout…the government probably ate a trout
House of pain
There is where I excel and will gain
If not, If things slow, I get on the low and ecstatic
So I need the erratic
Seems that when I live in the house of pain
I don´t quit I just excel in that shitty game.

Stay Frosty gents and gentesses.


Prompt by

He was walking down the street, staring at an emptiness of a future. Just a black hole
were the light had been transformed into darkness, were the angels had come demons.
It was his hole, his future, his misery for him to deal with until he couldn´t bear
it more and decided to strap a noose around his neck and end it once and for all
the suffering.
It was a sunny day and the rays of sun hit his pale face, he didn´t care. He walked
to the corner wich was relative a quite one, just enough time for him. He took out
the rope, he hung it over the fence and..

“Excuse me young man.” An old voice said to his back. He turned around and saw a little
old lady. He just stared at her, furious really. “Would you be so kind and get me that
sunflower over there next to the rope please? Is my daughters birthday, she is fighting
terminal cancer.” She laughed to herself, “Fighting….you can´t fight that right? But
she´s living every moment and loving life…..Sorry young man, didn´t mean to bother you.”

The young man saw she was tearing up, he grabbed a bunch of sunflowers and handed them over.
He smiled at her and said life was beautiful, it truly was. After the old lady left, he
unrolled the rope, shrugged his head and said out loud, “Am I stupid! I´m just going to loose
my job.”

Staay Frosty gents and gentesses.

Inspiring people

Prompt by

So the prompt basically is “forcing” me to talk about myself and inspire people
that feel that their basically in a dark hole that they can´t get out of.
Go figure and me taking up this challenge.

I don´t even know where to start, since throughout my twenties you could say it was wild,
to put it mildly. I´ll jump the army and war stuff to get to lets say the second face of my life,
and maybe the last one.

After I got out of the army I retreated from everybody I knew, became a drunk,
lived on the streets,petty crimes,I didn´t know how I was still alive and at that moment
I could care less about dying. So pretty much I ran around with the best that each
household has to offer, I took every drug legal and illegal there is, sold them also,
quite a mess really. But I did manage to hold on to jobs, shitty jobs
but still was some income which I blew in one day.It was a day to day living,
never mind about tomorrow. Almost like having a death wish really. For me life was nothing.
Didn´t appreciate a sunset or sunrise,family? couldn´t care less. Just an a-hole and very angry one.
Arrested or detained for fighting… how many times I forgot. I didn´t care,
for me my life was worthless and I was worthless. Didn´t have anything to offer to society
let alone the people that cared for me.

At age 30, another near miss and I end up in the hospital yet again in a state of shock
which is before you go into a comma. Severe pancreatitis the diagnosis. Reunited with my
family again. Although I didn´t really know if I wold make it out alive.
I asked point black at a nurse if I would make it out and she did tell me I had a 50-50 chance.
So as quickly as I coul dwhen I got back to my room,(I was downstairs for some scan of
my body when I asked the nurse) I wrote my will, again, since when deployed you do have to sign
a will in case you don´t make it back, obviously. I wrote to the people that I loved, and I still
have those letters somewhere stuck in a box.

Then the realization, I found my why. My why to fight for and not keep being a screw up.
Family was the answer for me. For the first time in years I finally saw the effects of
my actions on others. I will add that at that same time faith did play a major role in my life
and still does, although you might not believe it reading my crazy stories and what I comment to people.
So those two factors is what made me focus and fight for living a better life. And as I did so,
in came my writing. I started writing about my experiences in the hospital, like a journal
except with my crazy head I made reality a bit more exciting in the hospital.
And I actually was laughing at the nutty things that I wrote while I wrote them, that´s kind of weird.
But it was a therapy for me. So no “so sorry for myself” and all that stuff,
no sentimentality or nothing. I just knew I had to change life drastically.
And slowly but surely writing provided me with a goal, something to stay focused on and
not divert from the middle lane. And faith.
So once you have that goal set in your mind, you know your why, why am I doing this?
For the people that care for me and also very important for me, to show those other people
who thought I would be dead by this age, including myself, that it wasn´t going to happen.
Plus a lot of those people would be delighted in seeing me in the morgue. So I fooled them.

I found my why?The thing that drives me, family, faith, and writing. And once you
have that singular focus, everything else becomes secondary.You don´t even think about what
people think or say about you or what you can achieve or what you can´t. Fuck them.
I know my why and I got HIM, wich seems to want me around for a while more.
As to that why? Have no clue but as to my rational why? I have that clear in my mind,
and that will push you, will drive you,plus helps having a sense of humour and laughing at oneself.

Having said this, I still got to work on myself