Crisis 'Goodyear' Camacho

Nah, weyes.

2008, el año al que entré si expectativas, y sin embargo, acabo sorprendiéndome con sus inimaginables, bueno, sorpresas.

¿Qué puedo decir para englobar tantas satisfacciones? ¿Por dónde empiezo?

Claro que con le hecho de que este año conocí a la mujer mas maravillosa de este sistema solar y otros circunvecinos. Ella se llama Cristina U. Cabrera, y es mi novia. La conocí como alguna vez sospeché, pero nunca pensé que ocurriría, por internet. Bueno, alejado de estereotipos, de personas que se conocen en chats, nos conocimos en una posición en extremo diferente, y no puedo explicarlo si explicar mi otra satisfacción de este año que muere, la música.

Un día, mientras fuí por mi desayuno, un colega se puso a grabar algo en mi destartalada guitarra Guipar, (lo de destartalado es por Vir, que un día la tiró) y, en un dia de ocio, decidi convertir esa grabación en una producción profesional, solo para probar como servía el Reason. Se convirtió en la primera canción de mi proyecto 'Acoustic is Better' (www.myspace.com/acusticoesmejor) que, aunque ya no se encuentra, fué por una semana la única muestra de lo que podía hacer en ese tiempo.

Mientras promocionaba la canción, agregaba gente a myspace. Tal sería de precisa la mano del destino que me llevo a agregar a una muchachita, que, aunque no recuerdo su imagen para mostrar, si recuerdo haber percibido como interesante, basado en la apariencia. Ella llevaba por nombre Krhyz.

Y ahora, 11 meses después, nos amamos.

Me ahorraré la descripción de tooodo lo que hemos vivido, porque es un post aparte, larguísimo, e incluso de varias hojas de extensión.

En fin, regresando a las satisfacciones, una mas de ellas llegó hasta mis manos. Se llamó Gamecube, algo que desde hacía ya años que deseaba. Otra de ellas se llamó nueva computadora. Otra de ellas fué un iPod nuevo. Otra de ellas, a ultimas fechas, una guitarra impresionante, que me llegara de manos de Krhyz. Un nuevo cuarto, de raiz mejor a mi cuarto anterior, con todo a mi entero gusto. Una figura McFarlane de Charlie Pace, con su correspondiente réplica del anillo de Drive Shaft, ¡el mejor regalo de todos!

Sin mas hablar de lo material, satisfacciones vividas en viajes, materializados en amigos, personas y lugares. La razón de estos últimos fué mi ingreso a una fantástica banda llamada Rigtus, (myspace.com/rigtus) a la que entré gracias a una hermosa coincidencia, que viví con Krhyz, y con la cual he visto muchos de mis sueños y metas realizados. Estados visitados con gran éxito, escenarios compartidos con bandas de primer orden, amistades duraderas con colegas aficionados a la música, regalos, muchas pláticas sin ton ni son, grabaciones con ellos, muchas mas cosas por venir y muchos relatos que también son motivo de interminables páginas de relato.

Tantas cosas más que no puedo recordar. De aquí a allá, de arriba a abajo, de sonrisa en sonrisa, con 4 personas que han definido mi vida este año: Krhyz, por supuesto, con su ternura, paciencia, dulzura, comprensión, con las docenas de comidas que nos hemos preparados, las horas de sueño que hemos compartido, los capítulos de Lost que hemos visto, los besos que sin indelebles en mis labios y en mi corazón; y de la parte Rigtus, Andrés, Beto y Héctor (alfabéticamente chotos, para que no se pongan nenas) con quienes he compartido mas que el pan y la sal, también las alegrías, los triunfos, los pesares, las deficiencias, el cantar con María José, los hoteles, los asientos en la SUV, las cervezas Estrella, los corajes, el crédito, las 'millitas', los 'nah, weyes', el 'nos chingaron otra vez', entre millones de frases y momentos que me llevaré, mas que orgulloso, en mi memoria por la eternidad.

Tantas satisfacciones. Este año fué mi año.
Día a día, kilómetro a kilómetro, metro cuadrado a metro cuadrado, si con algo me quedara después de toda una vida, sería con estos recuerdos, vividos, frescos.

Gracias, y que el 2009 lo viva con ustedes así y mejor.
Ustedes 4 definen mi vida.


:::Crisis:::

The Pick Up chronicles V

Chapter 6
Roundabout

Things started to change.
I went on a trip to unknow and fascinating lands wth two friends of mine, girls with incredible flame of life and always turned on switch of adventure. I had great time and memories, and that was the moment when it all started to change.

One day when returning to the hotel, I went to the terrace for a cigarrette, that had a beautiful view to the whole town. I looked trough a nerby window, it was a bar. The girls were sleeping, and I decided to go for a walk downtown, where I saw nearly everyone was with someone special. I was alone, of course. I had always been alone. I remember myself walking untill I had no energy left and then went to sleep. I dreamt of myself glowing on a golden glow, surrounded by cool people, having drinks at a bar. I wanted to feel that way, and so my unconscious was telling me that, feelings loke those, wanted to show and be felt, but I knew that I wasn't the one to make that possible yet.

The trip went well, and we returned to pur homes, Pernille, one of the girls was returning to Denmark, and Seiko, was returning to the town I was raised. I didn't, I was already stablished in the major city I told you all about in the last post, Puebla.

Puebla is a big city where people is pretentious and preppy. Both boys and girls. But I was different. One day back in Th, a girl told me this:
'When I met you, I saw something different in you, it was like everyone were black cubes, and you were a blue, shining triangle, with a God-like eye on your side'
And I started to believe that. I knew that was accurate, but I had no way to make it shure. But it was there, there waiting for me to notice.

One fine day, I checked my inbox. I gave mi e-mail direction to nearly avery site that asked for it, to get reading material, to download movies, music, anything. So, I checked a mail named 'Dating Tips', it was written by a guy named David DeAngelo, a well-known seduction man. I read the mail and discovered that some spark inside of me was lit. The title was: "How to impress ANY woman", a title I was inmmediatly drawn to. And it contained:

(All rights to David De Angelo, this information is provided with ilusrtative purposes, and used for "ElblogdeCrisis" as a sample of an e-mail I possess, as former suscriber)

HOW TO IMPRESS ANY WOMAN

  I've learned a secret to impressing women that
I'm going to share with you in this newsletter.

  It's a secret that probably not 1 in 1,000 men
knows or will ever figure out on his own.

  The REASON that most men will never figure out
this particular secret is that it's TOO OBVIOUS.

  Let me explain...

  I personally think that most men feel a very
powerful desire to IMPRESS women.

  If you watch the way a man behaves when he's
talking to a woman he's just met or a woman that
he's on a first date with, you can SEE IT.

  Maybe you've been there yourself.

  I know I have. Many, many times, in fact.

  The feeling that you need to impress a woman
usually comes along with another feeling: DON'T
SCREW THIS UP.

  Here are some of the signs that a guy is
feeling the need to "impress" the woman that he's
talking to:

1) He tries to only say "cool" things, or things
that will "impress" the woman.

2) He acts nervous and stilted during the
conversation... sometimes coming across as
"formal".

3) He tries to figure out what the woman wants
to hear.

4) If he says something that the woman doesn't
like, he "back-pedals" and tries to change what
he said to suit the woman.

5) He doesn't say anything "risky", doesn't tease
the woman, and doesn't do anything to upset her.


...in other words, when a guy is talking to a
woman that he "likes", he's usually on his "best
behavior", and he's trying to "put his best foot
forward".

  To say it again, MEN FEEL A POWERFUL DRIVE
TO IMPRESS THE WOMAN THAT THEY "LIKE".

  And this drive to impress often makes them
act UNNATURAL.

Copyright 2005 David DeAngelo Communications

Inc., All Rights Reserved.

Those words did hit me immediatly.
I read the whole thing, and did wait for the next one to get into my inbox. That was fascinating. Truly fascinating. And I wanted to know those secrets. Those mechanisms. Those techniques. Of course I did, by researching in David D.'s E-books, which I got from his sites. I downloaded the whole collection, and read everything with such passion, that it was compulsive.

I told a fiend of mine, Vir, that I was reading those things, because, there was a girl in our class, that I really liked, and, since I had a new life, a new town, and new looks, I wanted to go for her, with my new wanna-be seducer techniques. He told me some of those things were wrong, but I insisted that those words were true, as I had read of them working. He laughed and said that girls don't like things to be over-acted, and that the best way was to be natural. But now, looking back, he said that because he was a NATURAL. Such charm and vibe, aren't coincidence, no sir, they're not. He jad something else, that attracted people, not only girls to his side, including myself.

That was when I started to practice the things I had read, one day, at the end of the course, and overcoming my fear of rejection, I walked up to the girl I liked and said 'So... what was you note, Did you get a 9?' And she said, 'Yeah, I did'. I was starting to look soooo boring, and before I lost all my artificual charm, I saked for her e-mail. She wrote it, and I added a DeAngelo's techique: 'And while you're at it, write your number, too' Shesmiled and wrote it down. Wow!! Those things worked!!!

That was my first test, my first experience in this sub-culture... and I completely smashed it.
Afterwards, I didn't knew what to do with both the mail and the number, but eventualy, I discovered, in some other book, the following steps to win. The magic formula. The sorcerer's stone...

The Pick-Up Chronicles IV

Chapter 5
...Let's Just be Friends

Damn, I hated those words. They were so simple, but so hard to understand.

I was in shock after the party in which my so-called friends went with some guys to a motel with nearly no provocation. It didn't bothered me. It didn't felt bad. I couldn't care less. But there was something that I didn't saw. And that was the techniques those guys used (if they did).

I tried a few times during my time in my former university to hook-up with girls. I tried party girls, classmates, curious girls, preppy girls, clueless girls, a former friend of mine. Actually, I tried several times now that I look back on it. And I always got the same answer. "But... we're friends..."

The first glitch of change I had happened right after that. I was becoming popular because of a radio show I had on campus, a show where I played songs nearly no-one knew. So people constantly asked the name of the songs, and If I could burn a CD for them. One day, a pretty girl came to the place where I broadcasted and asked my name. I told her and she told me hers. We smiled. I thought my single days were over. Then, a girl I liked on high school called me one afternoon. She wanted to go out. Two days later, I was walking randomly and I found a girl that I also liked on high school, she asked for my number and then, asked me out.

I felt like a lucky guy. But, I went out with all of them, had a killer time and then, when we were at their doors, I went for the kiss. They all looked me scared as if I was doing something forbidden. Or even worse, as if I had teared all the trust they had gave me and went for dirty purposes. But I wasn't. I swear I wasn't. Of course, I never went out with them anymore.

One day, I met this girl. She was different from the other girls I had met, she was smart and energetic. She was kindda crazy too. I befriended her and pretended we were the coolest people on campus. We actually were.

After school one day, she grabbed my cd's and said that she wanted to heared them. I lended her all my records (and never saw them again). I was her puppet. And little I did knew that one of her hottest friends liked me. So, I popped the question. And she said "Dude, Let's Just Be Friends...". There it was. My worst nightmare. Then, disappointed as I was, I knew about her friend liking me and I popped the question again. She said: "I would have been your girl, but you told my friend first, I'm no second place for nothing". I was doomed to be forever alone. Or so I thought.

One week after that, I started playing guitar for a girl. We played "Pieces of Me" from Ashlee Simpson as our strong song. I liked her. And I was desperated. I told her that she wanted to be my girl. She also refused. Damn! There was no more girls I liked or that I knew that liked me.

I didn't care. Really. I was only gonna use those girls as bridges, as memories to leave behind when my new live arrived. I was coming to a major city, where things are different. And I had a lot of expectations...

[Pausa]

...


...


Me tomé medio año, medio año para ver que quería hacer del futuro, que quería producir en el presente y que quería arreglar del pasado. Lo hice, y el plazo se cumplió justo cuando cerraba los ciclos pendientes.

Los más importantes, (que no están para saberlos, ni yo para contarlos) son:

1.- Encontré al amor de mi vida.

2.- Descrubrí (redescubrí) que podía ser alguien más de lo que imaginaba.

3.- Retomé la guitarra, y me dió mas satisfacciones que ningún otro trabajo (hobbie) antes.

4.- Vi una temporada completa de Lost, sin tener que preocuparme de nada mas que de eso.

5.- Completé (casi) mi colección de consolas de Nintendo. Aún busco el Super NES.

6.- Supe (confirmé) que hay personas bien especiales atrás de mis proyectos, sueños y realidades mas tangibles. Personas a las que les debo el respaldo y si no puedo con algo más, pagarles con cariño.

7.- Descubrí lo bello y tranquilo que es una vida de ocio puro. Pero que esa vida no paga. A ningun plazo.

8.- ¡Gané un iPod! Y eso por ir a tocar a un evento de una cervecería. ¡Gracias a Isa por todo!

9.- Me terminé como chorromil juegos de gamecube.

10.- Ahora soy mucho mas feliz, listo para el futuro, pues no dejo cabos sueltos.

Y sin más, mi próxima entrada de blog, seguira siendo la narración de mi vida antes de conocer a MI VIDA. Khryz. ♥

Crisis:::::

The Pick-Up Chronicles Part III

Chapter 4.
The First Parties.


I'm a jealous bitch.

Somebody said to me that jealousy comes from insecurity. But I believe that it comes from fear. Or lack of trust. This time is not the case. (And It's not the subject either).

So, I was left scared when I saw what college was about.
It was supposed to be about people studying and being their little brother's example (I had a poor conception of life, remember?). So I started to wonder if I ever would find a place of my own. I hated that. That people had issues man, that people spent their lives without a purpose, without the slightest idea of what they wanted for themselves when it ended, they just wanted to party. They just wanted to smoke and drink. They just wanted to live comfortably and get it all easy. And the worst part: I was starting to be THEM.

I started to drink on that party where my buddy took me, maybe, in fact I don't really remember the first time I drank. I remember the first time I smoked and it was awful, and I also remember the first time I learned how my body worked. But I'm soooo not telling you.

Well, I didn't like that. But I needed to socialize, and this was the time. So I started to go to parties. There was a lot of beer, awful music and I liked it. And, by the time I started to go out a lot, I just didn't knew how that worked, the reason why of all that people gathered and it really made me feel out of place. Well I was. The only thing on my mind was that, somewhere in the world, (maybe somewhere near) there was a special girl who was thinking exactly the same, who looked at the stars and thought about it too. Now that I think about it, I'm hopelessly romantic. .)

I used to got bored at parties. Yes, they're parties, they're for fun. Sure...
Later on I discovered that they worked as human gatherings for the very purpose of self-display and for the seek of receptive potential partners for physical intercourse. You don't believe me, you said?
Ok, let's think of a party situation: You get there. There is people who tried to dress well, ok? The house's owner swept the floor, washed the restroom, washed the dishes, tried to made it all looked perfect. For the good of his/her own image. Then, more people. More man than women, as usual (the reason behind this is because girls tend to believe that they're not meeting the love of their lives at a house party and therefore, when they go, they form packs...), and, there is always a guy who talks to everyone about how rich, handsome, talented or whatever he is. He is trying to demonstrate value (but he is not, *hint*). The girls who are not in a current relationship, get to the party dressed to kill and they usually tend to move all over the place to display themselves. Guys are trying to hook-up with someone for the night, but when they fail, they usually get drunk. And they fail because they think that the process is: meeting, drinking and then sex. I'll talk about the sequence later, but I wanted to explain my particular view first.

I got bored there, but college had it's funny side.
Everyday after school ended, we used to stand by the freeway and ask for a ride to the passing trucks. And, no matter how long we had to wait, we always rode for free. We made jokes and laugh for days about them. We did radio and we loved it. But it still was boring.

I got used to parties and to not so heavy drinking after a while and thought my life was gonna be like this from then on.
But there was something that changed my life. Well, someone. Well... let me tell you:

I was a good student, got great notes and had awesome plans who always stopped in their tracks for the lack of resources or will from others. But, there came a girl from UK who made my universe wider. I only knew what my lil' town had to give, but the things she told me and the way she used to move and act were nothing but prove that I needed to go far beyond my wildest limits to get to someone like her. We became friends. I was his assistant in an English class, given the case that I had passed the TOEFL test and there wasn't need for me to take a class, but to give it. I liked her. But I was a shy guy, who dressed bad and leaned to anyone who paid me a little attention. I needed to change.

One day, she invited me to a party. I was happy. C'mon! She was gorgeous, and she was going with her friend, who was as cute as she. So I was gonna spend the night with two pretty girls at an elite party. It was all perfect, until I went for a vodka and found them making out with some random guys. I freaked out. I had no chance to tell a girl to make out with me to feel less pain or chance to run away, because I was was too far from the city. So I waited. And yes, I got drunk. I wandered around the tennis courts and the swimming pools until the girls called me to go back to town. I agreed and jumped on a car that was not the one we came in. In the car there were the guys my so-called "friends" were making out with. The guys speaked in Spanish about going to a motel with the girls and dropping me somewhere near so I could catch a cab. I couldn't believe it. There was enough clarity in the girls to tell the driver to take me somewhere safe, while at the same time, enough craziness to fuck guys they had just met.

That was odd.
And I learned that, anywhere in the world, the same rules apply when it comes to this game.
I thought I had learned enough, but, that night, I was proved wrong.

End of Chapter 4.

The Pick-up Chronicles Part II

Chapter 3.
Baby Steps.

The first class was at 7 a.m. I entered the room and started to look for a girl that I might like. There was none. There were just ordinary people, with seemingly ordinary motivations and ways.
I sat and listened to whatever the teachers had to say.

One week after the first class, we were in the house of a classmate, getting to know each others. And there was beer. There was a girl who seemed expert on those drinking matters and in those more sexual themes. She immediately went to the hunt of a green-eyed guy who were in our class. They started to kiss, using a bottle game as a pretext. They connected in a matter of days. I never thought that was possible. They were, 10 minutes later, kissing in a closed room where, as far as my imagination went, she was giving him a blow**b. I was shocked. I was really shocked.

The things I knew before I entered college were overwhelmed by those I was seeing. Sex. Drugs. Alcohol in major amounts. People barfing out of party houses. Girls wearing thongs and acting like they weren't. Couples that dissapeared and appeared inside of rooms on second floors. And the list goes on.

If you read last chapter, you may have noticed that I didn't drink. And I was a good boy, who wanted to kiss girls as main objective. But this was too much. I hated drinkers, smokers, and people who played wrong the guitar or in a poser way. Now that I look back, I was afraid of anything in which I could loose control. I wasn't cool.

I had a friend who made t-shirts for living. He invited me to the party of a truly cool guy. That was the first I remember I drank. And I drank way too much. After a couple vodkas and a couple "micheladas" I crawled to the bathroom and puked. I was drunk, I liked being drunk. But it felt awful. I went sit on a puff and then to the terrace for some fresh air.

The cool guys' sister went to the house's terrace to speak to me. I was looking to a street lamp as it was an hipnotizer's pendulum. She said a couple things I didn't understand as I turned to see the guy who took me to the party, looking for some advice. But he was smoking a joint and ignored me. The girl then said something about having a daughter and feeling alone. The she asked me if I wanted to go downstairs with her. I didn't wanted to. She then asked me if I had a condom. I didn't. So she left. She went downstairs alone. The cool guy never knew about it.

That was the first time I got drunk and got sex offered.
That was a lot to a guy like the old me.
But it had something that excited me, and made me want more.

Little I knew that I needed to learn how that enviroment worked, so I could get to kiss girls. That was all I wanted.

End of Chapter 3.

The Pick-up Chronicles...

... As they happened.

I was 18. I was sad and desperate. I haven't kissed more than 3 girls. And this is the list: My first kiss on an evengelic church with a girl I can't even remember, not a single detail. Laura, on her house, the time I ran away from home. And Pau, a girl who was my girlfriend because she liked me and I didn't have the balls to say no when she started to kiss me after a "tardeada".

That was it. Pretty sad, ain't it?


Well. I was 18. My dad ignored me most of the time. My mom was out of the house on mornings and she came to sleep in the afternoons. Then she would make dinner and go rest for the night. My brother was foll0wing my way in even the slightest detail. So If I did anythig stupid, he would too. I was trapped. And there was no way out of it.

So, I was a boy raised on a small town, living a simple life, driving a simple car, going to an over-estimated private school, wearing Converse All-star 24/7, having lots of female friends who were nothing more. And believe me, I would have liked it.

I had common clothes, common friends, and I lived mostly common situations. I had the courage to get into fights and stand for myself when I was about 15, but that pretty much faded away after I faced hunger and cold when I left my then-shitty situation and went out to conquer the world.

I was what the "pick-up" community refers to as a "A.F.C." or " Average Frustrated Chump".

You may have noticed that I haven't said anything about my looks, or name, or skills. That is because they changed. Well, actually I CHANGED THEM.

Let me tell you about the day things changed.
I used to take the school bus. every day. It was cheap and it left me in the corner of the street I used to live. Then, I met a girl. Damn.

-pause-
Spiky subject for me. I was afraid of them. They used to laugh in my face when I approached'em. I said something to them and they would either ROTFL or call me cute and make "Awww" faces. I wanted to take them to a dark corner and suck their necks out. I wanted them. I wanted their eyes looking at me and their hands holding mine so I wouldn't be alone at prom or while walking down the streets. I was a dreamy AFC.
-end of pause-

So I used to take the bus. And there was a girl, right? Well, this girl was kindda cute, and she had a cute smile, and lots of cute things. She was in my classroom and her boyfriend was the tipical jerk. Everyone's little high-school crush history. But I had something no one I knew had. Determination. Passion. Imagination. I was smart. I was unstopable.

I tried to talk to her one day, after she had broke with her jerk BF, I wrote the cutest things on a sheet of paper and walked her way when she was sitting on the main stairs of the school. I was sweating. I was fainting. I was stupid.

So I opened my mouth. The words came out. She listened. Tension.

I started to cry and said "en esta lista estan las cosas por las cuales creo que eres genial... y no puedo decirlas..."

I threw the sheet to the floor and looked at her eyes with mine covered in tears of frustration.
She picked up the list and tried hard to descifrate what it said.
It was futile.
I translated the list for her.
She said "Sorry... I'm returning to Garay, I love him"
My mind went blank. My body felt cold. I tought that I may never have a girlfriend.

That was it. That was the moment I realized. The first glitch of all those to come.
"Girls don't like good boys, so be a bad one".

That was the beggining. I needed love. I was 16. And the closest thing to a girlfriend I have ever had was a girl I used to visit and call, but got bored of me never telling her to be my girl and, yes, you guessed right, she got a jerk.

So, that day I realized I needed a change, but it was 4 years later when it happened.

End of Chapter One.

Chapter Two.
Becoming Crisis.

I had an e-mail. Yes, I bet you had one yourself. But, did you had an e-mail in every single page you could find? I bet you didn't.

My mail was crisisintheworld@... (think of any e-mailing service available. I had it). And I chose that screen-name because I wanted to make my pressence felt on this life. I was a geek. I passed my mornings surfing the net on my old computer with my way-old 56 kb/s connection. I used to buy a lot of comics and used to spend my day playing flash games. I used to watch a lot of porn. I didn't had a life. And my dream was to become a computer programer and have a cool desktop PC.

When I gave my e-mail adress people said: "Why CRISISintheworld?". I said: "No, It's CRIS-IS-IN-THE-WORLD". And it happened over and over as I gave my e-mail direction to nearly everyone. The first ten million times I made the point clear. Then I decided to say: "Yeah, It's CRISISintheworld". Crisis was born.

-pause-
"Heima" from Sigur Ros is one of the prettiest visual I have ever seen. Right now, I'm listening to "Hufupukar" from the album "Takk" on iTunes. Yesterday I fell asleep while watching the documentary right on this song. When listened in the right context, this band makes me soar 6 feet up...
-end of pause-

One of the things I noticed was that, when I told the history of how my name comes from a pronnouncing mistake, people got involved, and when said in different tones of voice and intensity, I got different reactions. I thought, "Why not telling this story in a very animated way, so, when people say my name, they can actually relate to those feelings of good vibe?".
That was my first experiment. I had 17 then.

So, I haven't kissed more girls than those that you can count with a trident. I told the "Crisis" history to girls, but the "vibe" died after the cortesy laugh. I needed new material.

I started to sing. I was good at it. I found a guy named "Merlo" who played guitar and we started to sing pop songs in between classes. We won second place on a school talent show and we got famous. I had friends who invited me over to drink. But I didn't drink. And I did smoke when I left home, but I had quit. Cool people did. Ergo, I was popular, but not cool.

High school ended and I still couldn't talk to girls. I got nervous and messed good chances. On Pre-prom night, there was a party, and one of my friends was next to the drunkest chick in the whole place. She got horny and started to kiss him. The girl's boyfriend face went pale. He kneeled down and started to cry. There and then, I learned from afar was it was to grieve. And secretly, I did wish to be my friend kissing that hot girl high on hormones. And alcohol. Me, not Crisis. Crisis was playing drums on a drum set someone had brought over to play cover songs.

So, it takes us to Crisis, the musician, the pick-up artist, the, quote, "...nearly rich, hot, pampered intellectual, with an always hard dick and a marathon tongue..." (description I couldn't write on myspace because I could scare nearly everyone). Yes, he is Crisis. But Crisis was the guy I talked about on Chapter One. He needed a tune-up. And he saw his chance when entering college.

End of Chapter Two.

El placer de cocinar (una canción)

28 de Abril del 2008.

Ayer recibí una llamada. (Talvez deba llamarle al blog: "Las historias de El Crisis siempre empiezan con una llamada", lo cual sería excesivamente pretencioso y nada preciso). La llamada era de un ex-compañero, Carlos, que me pedía ayudarle a componer una canción. Accedí por los viejos tiempos. Aunque, debo confesar que jamás lo ví en el campus, y jamás tomé una clase con él.

Accedí tambien porque el fué parte de "Proyecto Conejo" un grupo del que, al menos, no discutiré hoy. Requiere un post enorme (en tres partes) que cuando sea adecuado, relataré.

Abro un paréntesis.
Cuando iba caminando hacia "enfrente de McDonalds" me di cuenta de algo. Mi vida es mejor ahora. El aire, de alguna forma, trae frescura en su soplido. Los colores se sienten mas intensos y las cosas saben mejor. Mientras caminaba, me sentia en cámara lenta recorriendo antiquisimos edificios, históricas calles, donde tanta gente había sentido tantas cosas. Wow.
Cierro el paréntesis.

Propuse el paseo de Sn. Francisco para componer. Me gustó porque aun sentía la vibra de ayer, que estuve con Krhyz (¡que amo!) en la plaza contigua, tomando ICEE de Cereza.

Pues Carlitos sacó sus lyrics.

No recuerdo mucho, pero el coro era:

GOT A THING x4

También recuerdo el tonito. Do y Re, y de vuelta.
Pero lo que si recuerdo es que recordé el placer de escribir como antes, en un parque, con una guitarra acústica y una persona deseosa de que su canción se cristalizara. Antes yo era esa persona. Ahora yo cristalizo la música. Y sin nungún ego puedo decir, que lo hago bien, que todo está bien, y está, según puedo vislumbrar, a punto de ponerse mucho mejor.

.)

Got a thing,
Got a thing,
Got a thing,
Got a thing.

Back in Blog!

So, he vuelto a bloggear.
Si.
Ante la imperiosa necesidad de comunicar, que es mi vicio y mi oficio, regresé a escribir.

Y bueno, el blog se llama "El Crisis' Adbenchiurs" asi que les relataré a modo de diario (si me es posible) lo que sucede en mi acontecer cotidiano. Que no es nada cotidiano.

Abril 21, 2008.

Me desperté con un sobresalto impactante.

Imagínense que duermen con el celular bajo su almohada y de repente suena su móvil a todo volumen. ¿Impactante, no?. Asi desperté. Con "How High" de The Charlatans, que es mi tono de llamada actualmente. Era el vocalista de la banda donde toco la guitarra actualmente, diciéndome que tenemos un evento el miércoles... Un tiempo atrás traía un Capricci de Paganini como tono de llamada, el 5°, y sonaba sumamente elegante.

En fin. Basta de trivialidades y vanidades.

Minutos después apareció un rostro conocido en la pantalla del celular. Y este tono "Do the D.A.N.C.E.! 1, 2, 3..." Era mi novia. Krhyz. Krhyz Volta...