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Thursday, December 7, 2017

Diary of a Death Poet 25 — Embelishment of Death’s Doorway

 

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Wussbags’ World

I irrupted into the FOSS and GNU scenes as soon as I returned to the internet after years disconnected, in March 2006. It was all due to the IT supplement of a conservative newspaper of my city I was in the habit of reading back then. It had a column by a guy that always gave lists of cool, 100% free software.

Saturday, November 25, 2017

Diary of a Death Poet 24 — Rescued by The Muses

 

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I guess I was a puppet


until I — trying to remember my love, and not being able to — re-learned to love, in India, in late 2001/early 2002, when I felt like never before when appreciating female beauty.

I can say that I liked my fair share of girls since I started going out of my district a little bit more. That happened when I was fifteen years old when I went to a high school that was practically in the other extreme of the city. Like I told in entries seventeen, seven and twelve.

Monday, October 23, 2017

Diary of a Death Poet 23 — Alien Flight

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When I was a kid, in the 1980s, other than through movies, I didn’t have any contact with extraterrestrial lore or ufology.

This changed when I was thirteen years old, in late 1990.

The summer I was thirteen years old, while on vacations in the mountain, I read the first book on aliens and UFOs.

Friday, September 22, 2017

Diary of a Death Poet 22 — Refusal of India

 

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Like I said in the previous entry, the years in India and Nepal were something that I never stopped romanticizing. I think that the disabling years that came after my return in mid-2004, were a time in which I wasn’t perceiving things correctly and I overvalued everything I let behind as a means to grow distant from my past in the west and from the western take on life and reality.

Wednesday, September 13, 2017

Diary of a Death Poet 21 — A Boon of Simplicty

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I titled this entry A Boon of Simplicity, because to cut all ties with India, and not having to consider it in my life or reality again, I feel that I simplified my life, greatly.

Years on The Road

The years I spent in India and Nepal where the last stages of my psychological maturing. I don’t think they were really “spent” as the things I did, thought and felt were things that I could hardly expect to live in Occident.

Mainly, they were things that shaped my personality in a way that couldn’t have been shaped if I were to pass those years in Occident.