confesion de medianoche.... o mas bien mañana

ayer no tenia nada que hacer...y no se porque no podia dormir... menseando en youtube me encontre esta bella gema de la osciosidad de algun cybernauta sin nada que hacer igual que yo.... cheers!

yoda se fue de vacaciones...

Yoda se fue de vacaciones al Polo Norte porque a Santaclos se le escapo uno de sus duendes... dicen por alli que fueron los de greenpeace que le ayudaron a escapar del sweatshop de jugetes... pero pues nadie vio, nadie supo... yo lo encontre escapando sin dejar nada para este lunes, nomas derrepente estaba paradillo con la mano extendida levantando una nave e la tierra con su Force.... le dije que no podia dejar morir... entonces le dijo a su amigo Bruce que nos dijera algo... nomas pa no perder tradicion....

Bruce nos dice hoy que " seamos como el agua"


y tambien nos dice algo muy cierto
"Now listen... we're tolerant... patient... but you read it wrong. Those are our virtues, not signs of weakness. "

yo soy tolerante, paciente, bueno y flexible... tambien no se decir mentiras, ni esconder mis sentimientos.... pero esas cosas tan chidas muchas veces confunden a las personas... y entonces me causan malestares emocionales jajaj pero como dijo Bruce...

"When the opponent expands, l contract. When he contracts, l expand. And when there is an opportunity... l do not hit...it hits all by itself "


aveces nos quedamos enredados en las dificiles aguas de nuestro ego... le da mucha hambre... pero si aprendemos a ayunar como decia siddharta... si nos aguantamos tantillo, podemos encontrar cosas que ni sabiamos que existian.... a mi me paso asi alguna vez hace mucho..... Bruce lo dijo mejor.........

"Don't think. Feeeeel. It is like a finger pointing away to the moon. Don't concentrate on the finger or you will miss all that heavenly glory"

true... true...

otro lunes platicando con yoda

y Yoda nos dice hoy....

"Named, your fear must be, before banish it you can......."

sabias palabras... jajaj yo mi miedo es que aparezcan fantasmas de mi pasado reencarnadas en hermosas mujeres paseando por el super.... pero bueno al menos ya se cual es

=)

Slacklining y la vida....

Buscando una metafora de la vida con cual poder explicarle a alguien que onda... se me ocurrio el slacklining. es la neta este deporte,aunque yo en persona nomas lo he hecho como 3 veces.. y esas cerquita del suelo jajaj... cuando estas caminando en la linea, no puedes voltear a ver en donde pones el pie porque te caes... en cambio si fijas la mirada al final de la linea puedes mantener tu balance mucho mas... igualito que la vida no?? si te concentras mucho en donde estas, pierdes balance, si te concentras en algun otro lado que no tenga nada que ver con adonde quieres ir pierdes el control...
pero si fijas tu mirada en un objetivo relativamente distante, es mas probable que llegues... la vida la caminamos a pasos chiquitos, pero lo importante es la direccion general hacia donde caminemos, no los pasos por si solos....

igual asi hay muchos paralelos entre el slacklining y la vida... si no te atreves a dar el primer paso y dejar ir lo que crees es importante nunca lo vas a disfrutar... si estas solo es mas peligroso... entre mas alto estes mas tienes que perder... si lo haces por las razones equivocadas te vas a acabar matando.... etc etc

cool no?
y la palabra que aprendi este fin es SUAVE... es chistoso como una palabra que normalmente me causaria problemas escuchar hablar puede sonar como la musica mas bella cuando sale de los labios apropiados.... hasta me sentia como los weyes del video jajaj que viva el HEB!! 8-)

The Raven... hablado

Abre este link en otra ventana para oir como se deberia de leer, entonces una vez que se cargue la otra pagina, no la cierres y regresa a esta para que lo puedas leer mientras lo escuchas.

The Raven (1845)

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow will he leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!

Desde chiquito habia leido este poema de Poe, y sonaba chido... pero nunca le entendi. Hoy me lo encontre otra vez y ya me hizo logica... ya hasta me podia ver a mi sentado enfrente de la puerta... haciendo conexiones y deduciendo inexistencias de UNA palabra. Qué culpa tenía el pobre cuervo de poder decir nomas una cosa?? DE NUEVO SEÑORAS Y SEÑORES, es impresionante como se reitera aqui que nosotros los humanos no vemos lo que esta enfrente de nuestras narices, sino lo que QUEREMOS VER.... se llama apophenia.... y Leonore es una irresponsable jajajaj
=-)