Hate

   They all hate him. I know I do. He acts all perfect and many people around here think he is just that: perfect. I bet he hide so many thinks beneath those stupid smiles and acts of kindness. No human person is like that; we all act of cowardice or shame but never just because we are good. We just want to be it so bad we go to great lengths to transform in those idiotic beings that just spit positivity.

 He’s a fake. I just know it. He gave everyone a present on his floor last Christmas and even organized a party for them, dressed as Santa Claus. And people danced around him like dogs under the hypnosis of a really good trainer. It was disgusting how they looked, as if they were in the presence of God himself or at least one of the many saints. And he even acts the part, always helping and doing and being all over the place.

 Was he fat as a kid? Or did his parents maybe hate him? No, of course not. That wouldn’t have happened to him. People said that he would speak of his childhood often, remembering how it was all easier. Ha! Easier than now, when almost every single idiot in this office building treats him like his a deity? I doubt it. He must have been one of those insufferable jocks, full of himself, with everyone cheering around just because he looked like some guy from a magazine.

 I always try to get away from people like that. All they do is treat people like the stupidest of pets, making them do, as he wants. He doesn’t even have to ask, which is even more revolting. They just do it, as if getting the reward of his smile was more than enough to feed their children or pay their bills. I’ve heard them, women and children worshipping him in the elevator, talking about how kind and sensitive he is.

 People will believe anything if they want to, even if it kills them. They’re not smart enough to feel, to sense. I laugh in my head overtime they organized that annoying secret valentines game. They always try to pull me into that and, once, I almost agreed to do it. At the end of the day, I’m not much more smart than they are and I do work here with them. But then they spoke of how that stupid fuck was organizing it all. So I just said no and left for my house.

 Days after that I ran into him. He smiled to me! As I was a friend or one of his dogs. I just got out of the elevator and went to the bathroom, as I had no need to stand more than a minute in the presence of that cheeky smug smile, expecting me and anyone else to do the same. I want him to know that we’re not all enthralled by his physical appearance and his effort to be liked by everyone.

 He wants us all to like him? Then he should behave like any other of us, just work and shut the fuck up. We don’t wanna know about his colorful life full of beauty, and style and drama that’s only dramatic to him. Of course, he has been employee of the month so many times, no one even asks anymore about the picture they take when you win. They even said he asked fro the pictures to be removed, as he didn’t want to be disliked.

 Funny he said that, if he did say that is. Because I don’t dislike him. I don’t. Don’t ever get me wrong there. I hate him. I fully and truly hate his guts. I hate his smile, I hate those pictures of everyone’s holidays they put up once on the company’s Facebook page. Of course he was on a beach somewhere half around the world, tanned and his body ridiculously fit and lean. It was obvious that he was perfect in every fucking sense. And I hate that.

You may calm me resented or that I envy him. Maybe, I would not know if that is so. What I do know is that a fucking hate that guy and everything he stands for. He makes people feel less than they are and then he just greets them and think that will make everybody feel better because, like the Pope, he stretches the hand of all those less fortunate. And those poor devils do think that they are his friends just because he smiles at them or because they hear one of his stupid little stories.

 I’ve gone to the doctor, the shrink that is. Believe me, I’m not happy thinking about that guy every day in the office. So I went to see one of those doctors and he says I’m obsessive and I’m looking to deep into it. He tells me I should just leave it at that and live for myself. But I can, I have explained to him. How can I have time for my own when I have to go to that damn floor everyday and hear him make one of his lectures to people.

 That doctor doesn’t know I feel ill, sick to my stomach every time I hear that man’s voice. Many people say you can’t really hate, that it takes something really strong to feel that for someone. I tell you, I didn’t take a lot for me to feel what I feel. And it is hate, and I hate that feeling too. I have a life, not much but I do have it and I don’t want to spend it thinking of some male model that parades around.

 He hypnotized me once, that doctor. I thought the idea was stupid but I let him do it, as I wanted peace for once on my mind. He said, after I woke up or however you name it, that I have dangerous tendencies towards criminal behavior and that I have deep problems rooted in my brain. Fuck, what an idiot that doctor is. I could have told him that myself, awake and for a cheaper price. Of course, I never went back to see him. I don’t need people charging me for telling me the obvious.

 I want to kill him. That’s what the doc meant. And I have thought of it many times, carefully. I do it before I go to sleep or when I daydream at work. Some days ago he came to my corner and asked me for some papers. I wanted to throw up, right there. Sick isn’t it? Then, as I reached for the papers without saying a single word, I imagined punching him to his death. How beautiful would he look like with blood all over his face?

 This is not good. I know killing is a bad thing, that’s obvious. But what can I do? Every single time I see him, that strange rush invades my whole body and makes me feel like I could really do it. You know? I’ve thought several ways to do it, all of them fun to me. Of course I don’t share this with anyone. People would overreact and say I’m mass murderer or some shit like that. And the truth is I just want HIM dead. I know if I do it, I wouldn’t do it again. No need to.

 The day after he asked me for those papers, I decided I would follow him to his house. Why? Easy: before he dies I want him to tell me what lies beneath that entire perfect surface. Because, as you know, I don’t believe for a second all of those nice little details about his life and how he loves everyone and so on. I know there must be something really rotten below all that beauty. There always is. No one is perfect in this world and, the better the cover, the nastier the secrets.

 So I followed him down to the basement, because he’s one of few that comes work by car. And then it struck me: it doesn’t matter. His life, what he has or hasn’t done. I don’t give a fuck about that. What I really care about is the image he gives to the world. He might fuck children, kill whores or spread STD’s. I don’t care. I care about that fake smile he gives to everyone he meets. I want that finished.

 Yesterday, I almost went for it. I went to the bathroom to pee and he went in to and went for one of the stalls. We were alone. He was whistling. The rush came back and I knew that was the perfect moment. I could strangle him myself with my hands, seeing his soul leaving his body and his smile finally disappearing from his face. But when I decided to do it, another man came in and I just went out, breathing heavily as if I had been running.

 Then comes today. The guy announce to everyone, as if he was the president, that he will be leaving us to pursue other endeavors. I almost went crazy when I heard about it. But then, I relaxed. My life could get back to normal and I could make all these thoughts go away. Him leaving would be my cure. And the only person that would ever know about this all would be me because here, inside my head, there’s only me. And I’m thankful for that.

Of victims and heroes

Far be it from me to mistreat a person that has gone through something hard. But hey, that woman is a fucking bitch. And no, I'm not saying she "was looking for it" or that "she deserved it". No, I'm just saying she's a bitch. And here's why.

First of all, the woman is not a victim. That fucking simple. She was just followed by a guy at night and then the guy disappeared. For all we know, it might have been a drunk guy or someone really stoned. Nothing really happened after that. Well, not besides her boyfriend going crazy and slapping her, once, in her apartment.

Yeah, I think I have to explain that. Margie, our "victim" and "hero" had a boyfriend. They had been together for at least three years and, naturally, they were thinking of getting married. Marge has always been kind of attractive (not to me, but whatever) and she certainly loved to party. Friends of mine knew for a fact that the woman couldn't stop herself from going out at least two days on a week and drink and dance and so on, for hours and hours.

Ok, that doesn't really make anyone a "bad person". But may I remind you that she didn't only had a few too many drinks, the girl was kinda loose and had more guys in a year than an army barracks. The girl was a bit too "free" and the worst was that her boyfriends, a fairly nice guy, had no idea she had been spending some much of her time with others.

Well, he finally realized it, about a week before they got married, when everything had already been bought, the venue was decided, the flowers chosen and the dress was resting on a hanger wearing to be worn.
He went to her house to drop the seating arrangements and found her going at it with a guy from her pilates class. So the marriage was cancelled but not before the guy beat the hell out of the lover of his bride to be (or not to be) and slapped her in the obvious rage.

So, no. She is not a victim in that sense. It wasn't gender violence or anything like that. It was a man deep in love hurt by a woman he should have never trusted. That was it.

Now, for seconds, let's talk about that guy that followed her. Working in the organization to defend the rights of women and others, I was there when her case was exposed and used in the media as one more act of harassment and violence against women and so on.

Of course, I was interested in knowing what had really happened. It was around that time when I decided to leave the organization, as I noticed they wanted to use anything to make their demands valid. They had greatly exaggerated what had happened with her boyfriend. Mutual friends told me he had to leave the country, as people began to harass him.

So I left that place but kept asking here and there about what had happened with the guy that followed her. As it turns out, it wasn't harassment, not a crazy stalker obsessed with the woman, as it had been said on the news and in numerous reports. Nothing close to that.

Albert Foch was around thirty years of age and had been consuming heroine and other drugs for around ten of those years. His body was not that strong and the drugs help him go through the cold nights, as food was pricier and less satisfying.

The night of the events, Albert had not consumed any drugs for some hours and was really hungry. He really wanted something hot, chocolate or coffee. He hadn't tasted any of those for quite some time and no drug could replace that need right now. He was walking through a neighborhood, shaking from the cold when he saw a young woman, that happened to be Margie. She had stepped out of a bus and dropped a wallet when she got down from it.

Albert waited for a moment and then went closer to grab the wallet. He checked it out and saw it had money and papers. So what he did was taking one of the bills, to buy some food, and decided to follow to woman to give the wallet to her. Maybe if she received it, she would give more money to him. So he followed her.

He did it for several streets and even yelled at her for the woman to stop but nothing worked. She just walked faster and yelled "Don't rob me, I have nothing". The man, exhausted from running after a crazy woman, yelled back: "You have nothing. I have your wallet". And maybe that was misinterpreted because she ran even faster and finally entered a building where a security guard warned him not to go near and threaten with calling the police. Albert explained to him that the woman had dropped her wallet and gave it to the guard. He left immediately and finally had a decent dinner, for once in many months.

All of this, I heard it from various sources, mainly the security guard but also, after scouting the neighborhood, I found Albert himself who told me the whole story and said he was actually thankful that he had the opportunity to grab the bill. I asked him why he didn't take it all and he answered he wasn't a thief and only took what he needed. He told me all when I invited him to have something to eat and he was grateful and, of course, surprised when he heard what she had said about what happened that night.

 - Bitches be crazy.

Well, this time Albert was absolutely right. Marge had judged a little bit too fast and never gave him a second chance.

Anyhow, she had one last surprise. She filed a lawsuit against her boss, because he had apparently harassed her in the office and cited as an accomplice a women that worked as a secretary in the office. As she announced a book in which she would tell her "courageous story", I decided to investigate this last event in her life.

I worked in an NGO called Human Rights for All and I had even more resources so it wasn't difficult to find out the man that had been Marge's boss, now unemployed, had never really come on to her. The truth was he was in love with the secretary she accused as an accomplice. And Marge was jealous of her and that was said by several of their coworkers. Apparently Marge wanted the boss to pay attention to her to get a raise but he only had eyes for the secretary, who also happened to be a skilled woman, dedicated to her work. Marge envied her for that. She considered her a "smart-ass", as many said she had called her.

So that was their story.

Well, I know there two sides to every story and the truth is always a mix of both. But Marge's life has not been an exemplary one and she has proven in numerous times, many more than the ones I tell here, that she is a prejudiced human being, only capable to achieve her goals by scheming and telling lies even to the people that decide to love her.

Even if it isn't all like that, I personally don't think that woman can be called a "hero" and, not at all, "a victim". She has used that status to make people feel bad for her and somehow that has made her superior to others, as if that made her a better person, which she actually thinks she is having released two books and becoming a model and spokesperson.

But that's our world, where real victims and heroes are ignored in favor of the fabricated dreams of others.

Guy with iPhone

That's all guys want. And girls too. A guy with an iPhone.

In today's world things, stuff, objects are what define us. Not what we think or do or say but what we own. Going to the newest store or coffee shop, buying the latest trend in technology or clothes, watching the "hip" shows on TV or trying to be like the hottest celebrity. All that is important now.

But what about us? The real us, I mean. These days who er are is extreme diluted, as if what we own was water and our painted souls just got to insignificant in its presence.

What is really incredible is the fact that many people fabricate originality and sell it as if it was unique and never repeatable. But it is the opposite. We are unique by the mere fact of being born but that seems not to be enough for any of us.

As a species, we fail to appreciate life. We recognize ourselves as the ruling species of this Earth, more intelligent and adaptable but are we really? Specially when, for the largest part, we use our lives only to imitate and pretend instead of living it and nothing more?

Just go outside for some time, it doesn't have to be much. You'll see people. Look at their way of using clothes, their way of wearing make up, even the way people talk and walk. In the most part, all of it has been prefabricated. And the source is not a surprise. The media is today the most powerful force in the world, more than any petty politician or religious leader. Media is here to stay and judges us all every single day.

We created it so we should know what is about but we seem to have lost control of it. Instead of using it as a tool to unite the world and share cultural heritage, media has transformed in the almighty God of us all. Church is inside our homes and, even more dangerous, inside our minds.

Media has become so powerful that everything it tells us, we assume it as the truth. And even if we don't, we have no way of really contradicting it as it handles almost every aspect of modern day societies, here and anywhere else in the world.

The worst are the mixed messages. For year media, along with other industries at its service, has told us that we most look a certain way. Skinny, in general, but also with certain features to be more attractive to others, never mind our gender.

So that's where all the perfume ads are born. Artsy, maybe. But they tell who should we be or at least what we should aspire to be. And people believe it and enforce it.

For example, create a profile in any dating site or even any social media website. For one week put a picture of someone else. Women should find the picture of a woman with big breasts, tiny waist and pouty lips and men should post a picture of a shirtless guy, gym body, nice teeth. A week after, change it for a picture of yourself, out of bed (for real). See what gets more attention.

And this even translates to subcultures. Gay men are a perfect example or superficial thought. And no, its not about homophobia, is how homosexual men have adapted to their so called community being mistreated for years. So it was preferable not to form a bond with someone so sex has stayed most important. And that, is hardly arguable. So big dick pics are a huge thing. I'm a gay man, I should know.

But when I said mixed messages I also refer to those endearing campaigns, ads or others, most likely featuring a celebrity, that tell us how great it is the be ourselves and how everyone is going to love each other so much just because we accept our differences.

I call bullshit on that one. Why? Because humankind is hypocritical, we say one thing but do the opposite just seconds after. That's how many wars have started and how geopolitics works. Many people don't really like each other but they try to keep it peaceful as wars are often too expensive and money is first.

Many people may disagree with all that's being said, more like written, in these past paragraphs. But it is the truth, take it as you want. As said before, just go outside, take a walk and take a good look at the people, everyday folks walking around with their families or in couples.

Do you really see happiness? Or do you see people just content, happy enough? Is like asking about freedom, a phenomenon not very different from this one.

So that's how we can come back around and realize we do want to be those people, the one in the advertisements and the movies. We want to be easily happy, we want love that is unconditional and perfect and even better if it comes in the shape of someone we have learned is physically suitable.

We're not the same humankind that came out of caverns and mated only to have offspring. No, now love is a status factor in society, like a very important prize that not everyone gets and certainly not in the same way. This affects specially the people born after the media explosion, the sixties and seventies.

So that's why, we look for that guy with an iPhone, a guy that helps us get where we want and to be who we've been told to be. And if you disagree, you fail. Because the only way to change that reality is by accepting it and then slowly turn it into something else. After all, we made it happen. So we can make it stop.