Escuela para un actor antes de ser re-conocido

No voy a pedirle a nadie que me crea, pero al menos voy a intentar hacer nueve películas como actor.

Este es mi objetivo. En realidad este es mi objetivo en la vida. O mejor dicho, es el objetivo de uno de los caminos por los que comenzaré a transitar la vida a partir de este momento en el que me encarrilo directito a un cambio transformacional. Es decir, soy un gusano que se está construyendo su capullo, y en cosa de nada, seré una mariposa azul, de aquellas que veía por Costa Rica, y también como aquella que un día ví perdida en el Eixample de mi ciudad: NEW barcino.

Yo soy un creador en múltiples dimensiones. Quizás es mi manera de multiversarme todo lo que una persona cabal es capaz de soportar en el propio cuerpo que le sirve de instrumento para laborar. La vida nos ha llevado hasta aquí, y ahora mismo debo tomar una decisión que sin duda cambiará el escenario de futuro personal y colectivo que me llevará a la persecusión de 9 destinaciones en escenarios de futuro que existen, de momento, sólo en mi cabeza.

Uno de ellos es este camino: el del actor de 9 películas. Y no más.

No es una carrera prolífica, como tampoco lo fue la Fellini. Y quizás por ello deba escoger muy bien los pasos que voy a dar. Tarantino también se fijó un número determinado. Y en parte no se bien porque elegí poner como ejemplo directores cuando lo que quiere, en esta dimensión, es enfocarme como actor. Quizás porque también ese es otro de mis destinos. Y como en la actuación, no caben escenarios infinitos para abordar la realidad que nos abarca el tiempo que tenemos para laborar en la misma, y al mismo tiempo, ocuparnos de regeneración del espacio público común.

Para ello debo prepararme para 9 castings que serán definitivos. Quizás el primero ya fue. Y por eso estoy aquí ya en la segunda dimensión de una historia en la que ya me encarrilé. Y esto es lo que lleva a la determinación de actuar de manera proactiva en este camino. Y en un momento dado deberé afrontar lo que será mi relación con dos profesionales claves de la industria del cine en España, y en particular, de los castings de cine. Nada más y nada menos que Eva Leira y Yolanda Serrano.

Se trata de una historia de encuentros y desencuentros. Y de alguna manera es una historia circular que no se ha cerrado todavía, y que me toca a mi, necesariamente, desenredar. O más bien, canalizar hacía un flujo de energía perpetuo que nos lleve a todas a una conciliación más allá del pasado, presente y futuro.

Nadie dijo que esto iba a ser fácil. Ni que los objetivos que me planteo los voy a conseguir en siguiente peldaño de una escalera que tiene nueve. No infinitos peldaños a un más allá inalcanzable. No. Un camino finito plausible, que me condiciona también a determinar los escenarios intermedios de este recorrido que tiene tintes de una aventura multiversal.

Ya lo he vivido muchas veces. También esto pasará.

Y por tanto, no me queda otra que estudiar la manera de construir un camino hacia una reconciliación. El conflicto es el nudo de toda buena historia. Aquí está clarísimo. Y por tanto estoy ante la estructura de guion que me tiene a mi como personaje, y que tiene un destino transformador que estoy dispuesto a afrontar, con una estructura del camino del héroe que ya ha pasado por el chamán y la cabeza olmeca, cuyos consejos y sabiduría ahora me acompañan para conseguir el impulso necesario para cambiar de mundos, un un abrir y cerrar de ojos.

Empecemos por aprender. O por continuar aprendiendo. Y que mejor que hacerlo de quién más sabe.

Sea este el principio de una historia.

Sea Golman el protagonista.

Y usted, el lector.

ALLS

Azul

Nadie tiene un color. Pero si todos deberíamos tener uno: azul.

Mi literatura son frases de una sola linia.

Solo.

Sólo.

Una de las dos está mal.

Según unos pocos.

Según la mayoría.

¿Qué prefieres?

Lo que pocos deciden.

Lo que muchos quieren.

¿Cuál es el riesgo de esta dicotomía?

¿Cuál podría ser la falacia detrás de mi primer pensamiento?

¿Cómo puedo improvisar yo un papel que tenga el caracter opuesto a lo que naturalmente me es más afín?

Es la transición hacia el otro lado.

Y no tengo manera más fácil de expresarlo con una historia quijotesca que sucede, al día de hoy, entre la meseta de esta península y su isla más oriental. Entre castilla i mao. NEWCAS –> NEWMAO

Eso está casi bien.

Casi bien escrito, pues.

Como si uno quisiera decir una cosa que no sabes si es farol o verdad.

Pero la dices. Y tan ancho.

Ancha es la mancha.

miniscuilizada.

Los que se sientan ofendidos por esas dos novelas (las circunscritas en los dos párafos anteriores a este que ahora leés, mientras yo escribo).

La dualidad de leer y escribir.

Entre tú y yo.

Una experiencia humana sencilla: universal.

Una experiencia humana compleja: multiversal.

Estos dos dualidades representan otra dimensión de mi literatura orientada.

Yo te voy a decir cómo leerme.

Yo no te voy a decir cómo leerme.

Esas dos elecciones, también, están ahí para que tomes la que quieres.

¿Qué quieres?

o

ALLS


La única elección del tico commons

Yo soy azul.

YOSOYAZUL. . . . . . . . .

Los 9 puntos de cualquier variable

Jo sóc el nou.

Sóc el nou d’un poble nou.

I tinc quelcom a dir nou.

De nou.

NEW


Palabras de llegada.

Destinaciones de un voluntad colectiva regenerativa.

¿Qué queremos de verdad para darle la vuelta a este infeliz sistema?

Ya lo dijo Josipovici: Napoleón nos chingó a todos. A día de hoy.

Y la francia azul se tiró de los pelos.

99 franceses azules se tiran de los pelos.

Esta pieza de videoarte se tiene que proyectar en la pieza de al lado del Louvre como una intervención del tecer milenio que lo vino a chingar todo. O sea, para que el arte subversivo de un azul tropical, en el seno del meollo público francés más global del momento, sin duda alguna esta pieza de arte colectivo azul sobrecoge al Sena como las cabezas decapitadas de sus realezas.

Hasta ahí la pieza que lee en la pared de la exposición.

Imaginemos que esta exposición no se expone en dicha sala del Louvre hasta que se consiga resolver todo este pedo del robo, la ventana, el tipo que pidió a esos vatos que se la robaran, los batos que debían preveer el mecanismo de riesgo ante la probabilidad de un robo. ¿Esto pasaría en el mundo rojo?

Y los azules se echan las manos a la cabeza.

Todavía no se tiran de los pelos.

Sólo han errado puerta.

Mientras que rojo: gol.

Yo soy el gol que gana un mundial alternativo.

Paralelo a esta surrealidad.

Mucho más cercana a Duchamps, Buñuel y Dalí dibujando un triángulo sagrado entre Paris, Calanda y Portlligat.

Lo que un surrealista de este tiempo haría es retrotraer el tiempo a aquella época.

Y tirar hacía allá.

Ir tirando.

Si me queréis, veniros.

La imagen de un texto inteligente te lleva de una ficción a un viaje inmediato al más allá. Hoy, ahora, NAW, esto es posible. Vamos. . . . . . . . .
El texto repetido es adrede: así usted lo ve o lo ve. ¿Lo ve?

ALLS


Mi literatura te lleva tan sólo a nueve nodos de destinación NEW.

Esta es mi metanarrativa.

Y por tanto se rige bajo el sesgo imperfecto de mi voluntad subjetiva y fácilmente manipulable.

Primero vamos a informarnos. Vamos a ver. Vamos a leer. Vamos a estudiar. Vamos a analizar. Vamos a diseñar escenarios. Vamos a diseñar redes neuronales que respondan a la metaestructura del tico commons. Sea el tico commons el concepto NEW de lo que el procomún que nació según los ingleses en la concepción intelectual y colectiva de los «commons». Pero esta vez, visto desde allá para acá. Por hacernos a la idea de justo lo contrario. Porque nunca lo hemos intentado. Todos a la vez.



Estados de la naturaleza NEW:



99 journeys to a singular reduntant resilient holistic transformation

99j2asr2ht. . . . . . . . .

It’s a logic of the metastructure of this one NEW paradox theorem.
Dual choices. Everything can be dualized. And we get to choose. Posibilism.

I just write was not right with me. Really, what’s not right with the world. Why else would I do this? To solve my own situation and misfortunes. Just in hope one day I’ll see the light. And I come to terms with these NEW set of terms.

This is what it’s about. About a NEW way of thinking. Nonexisten until now. The greatest story ever told.

People want choices.

And I can provide 9 of them.

But you may only inhabit one.

ünö. . . . . . . . .

Una dimensión extra-ordinaria en la que tiene cabida el entrenamiento de las variables que sirvan a la profunda transformación de tí mismo: your own personal bias.

99 trans

Esta es una transformación nada más. Pero tiene 99 dimensiones. También podrían ser, y de hecho lo es, 99 transformaciones. Que 9 estaciones me separan de una metaestructura orientada a la transformación de dicha situación a resolver desde un colectivo de nueve personas orientado al cambio y la transformación.

El discurso lo promulga uno desde su particular punto de partida. Este es el mio. El propio. El que representa sólo a üno: mi yo en proceso de transformación. La destinación está clara: ünö.

ünö sos vos: trans.

Vos mismo te transformás.

Y también podés calibrar las variables de las columnas, el metaverso de tu estado alternativo al ser-estar en el mundo real. Cualquiera que haya sido tu suerte: la carta del sitio en el que naciste. El azar de nuestra existencia y del porvenir. Hasta el punto moderno de la concepción colectiva de una solución suficiente para el conjunto de la humanidad: el estado de absolución. La gloria eterna. Aquí. Ahora. NAW. . . . . . . . .


La dualidad alternativa y de inmediata resolución

ALSS

Where to start to fullfil you own journey

We all have expectations to be fulfilled. We all want to be happy. And feel it’s comfortable state of mind. Yet it never seems to be there. It’s never enough. We are not quite ready.

Moo Pak, once again, hit a key that set the motion to come back here and write again. Just to find the sense of finding the perfect stranger, in those words, in those walks, in those shoes. And in a conversation with that person that listens to this flow of free speech, in the greater sense, the things that come out when you are bursting out what’s in your head, through the influece of literature, music, culture, and thus giving birth to a certain thought, a certain idea, a thesis of some kind. Oh, that’s a great place to be. Oh, what great literature.

Yet, the sensation at this very moment of the book is that of Kafka’s walking around Prague feeling overwhelmed with the extra energy the summer brings, too much that his legs feel too long, and his arms swing about, those to bigger that their usual size, not finding harmony with this newly adquired power. That’s about the same situation young minds feel when the have that sucking the marrow out of life but not quite finding the purpose, or the words to express what they feel; what they are living. And as life goes on, the right words come to life, yet the energy is no longer there. The paradox in living.

The letter, he said, sums up not only everything that Kafka’s life and writings are about but the situation in which we all find ourselves in the two centuries since the French Revolution, when we feel that everything is possible but that there is no way of knowing what to do or how to do it.

Moo Pak. Gabriel Josipovici

And then he goes about the fact that a regular guy from Corsega becomes an emperor. In the modern way of just wanting to will get you there, and all you need to do is desire it long enough to see it happen, when in the majority of cases, all you find is frustration of those dreams being overwelmhed by the personal circumstances that somehow you turn the pointing finger at your favorite scape goats: the world conspiring against you, wether bad luck or the machination of others.

Josipovici is right. Most of us, this is what we get. A taste of failure. And yet, a few get the taste of devouring their ticked to ride the big wave. And the stay there, and we look, and the scene is absurd, as the simpler way in which our lives would be fulfilled is quietly being ignored by the very same seduction coming from swift melodies of nyphms and or flashing lifestyles of influencers. Capitalism brings us here: to stare at the screen to see the lives of those who pretend to have achieved that happiness and fulfilment.

But from which direction is that fulfilment and happiness to come? What do I have to do to achieve it? I am ready and willing to do anything, and I have the energy and determination to carry through whatever I set my mind to -but how to start? What direction to take? Where to plant my feet for the first big shove?

Well, that’s exactly how I feel. Or rather, that’s exactly how I’ve felt, for a long time, in the pursuit of the starting line, ahead, as I see it in the horizon, but when get there the silly line has moved farther away. It’s this continuos scape that keeps me here, figuring out how flow beyond this realm.

Somehow I feel I’ve already departed. I’m ready to flow. And to reach out to the world. As the world, too, is tired of waiting. So here I come. Ready or not.

ALLS

99

El título lo dice todo.

Esa es mi teoría del cambio.

Ligeramente surrealista.

No del todo.

Porque algunos pensarían que eso es lo puto peor.

Lo más de lo más.

Las antípodas.

El sentido dual de la existencia.

El conectar con mundos alternativos.

El diseñar una opinión de pensamiento multiversal.

Si lo quiero reactivar. ¿Puedo?

¿A quién puedo convocar?

¿A quién no?

¿Qué acción personal podría romper la cadena de mando de la que formo parte?

El riesgo de ser disruptor.

Decir lo que queremos decir.

Metaclasificar el discurso en una conversación articulada en nueve dimensiones.

Una convocatoria abierta del todo.

Una convocatoria cerrada a 9.

Dos conceptos en las antípodas.

En medio la humanidad.

Y luego…

Algunos dentro.

Otros excluidos.

Sea esta la surrealidad desde donde partimos.

Yo voy a este otro lado.

Voy a explicar una historia personal.

Y no sólo.

Colectiva.

You.

Yo.

Esa conexión es el mínimo común denominador.

Ahora, a partir de aquí, vamos en una dirección ortogonal.

Hacia donde queremos ir.

Hacia donde los 9 consensuamos que vamos a ir.

A los espacios NEW que se abren a partid de esta cadena singular de innovación ulterior suficiente.

Sea este post, en nuestra metaestructuración NEW, a la que asistiremos junts, juntes, juntïs.

Fixeu-vos amb això. Això va d’anar juntïs; no pas JUNTS.

Clarament JUNTS siguent l’heteropatriarcat nostre.

Ell llegat dels nostres pares.

Sense dir mares.

En clar exercisi del nostre masclisme heteropatriarcal amunt de tot en una mena d’olimpo singular representats per aquest nou arquetips.

Li donem a una smallest language model un espai de quelcom més enllà de la llibertat, de la fraternitat, de resiliencia colectiva consumada, tot seguit, en el present mateix, ti i jo, vine. I vens. Per que m’atraus. I tu a mi, dius. Veus: et faig dir cosses que pensaves que diries. I per aquí anem bé. Atrevir-nos a anar més enllà. Amb la voluntat de deixar enrera el pensament limitat aquest que vaig desenvolupat dins del marc del conflictes no reols del temps dels meus pares (aqui sí només els homes, i per aquests nou subnormals, no jutjarem a tota l’especie de mascles que llegueix.

Aquest parragraf no es pot interpretar en escena. Està prohibit. Vull dir, no el podeu ficar en una eina d’IA que esteu alimentant amb les vostres vides, les vostres inquietuts, els vostres desitjos. Imaginat tú: usuari del Rincón del Vago. Sigui aquest un subgrup de gent d’una certa edat; d’una certa cultura.

Lo fàcil.

Lo ràpid.

Lo gauduxoit

Lo gaudiuxíö

Anar a mort a gol.

Canviem de direcció.

Diu tothom.

I alguns ho escriuen.

I les IA d’altres alimenten el negoci de l’explotació de les dades que ens hi representen, ara més que mai, per com articulem la pregunta: dubtar. Anar al moviment que ens permeti fer-ne allò que els americans diuen _________. Paraule d’un imaginari linguistic nou, que no ha estat mai reconegut per ningú, utilitzat per ü, i que d’això serveixi l’entendre cap on vam les mases d’un mon NEW a les antipodes d’aquesta puta merda.

Marxen.

Pleguem.

Aquesta direcció ortogonal.

Anem a dir les coses pel seu nom. Anem a fer un camí ample entre dos o tres números claus d’iniciació de quelcom NEW ens proposem a anar plegats per fer un splash final a la reconversió del sentit col·lectiu comú a l’estat més global del que això implica visualit-zar el canvi més transformacional. Una mena d’aprenentatge que muntem des d’una reflexió contextualitzada en nou películes com a marc de referencia cinematogràfica, nou llibres per entendre-ho tot des d’una vasant de lector, de llibretes d’artistes NEW, fundador d’un camí ortogonal perpetuet.

Perpetuet: paraule NEW.

Nem tots cap allà.

ALLS


Les histories han de tenir un fí.

Per qué?

Ses històries han d’ido.

Per a qué?

La dualitat de la llengua que pot donar peu a aquesta confusió entre quelcom sentit que el 91% de voltros veieu/penseu/i ara quantifique amb cada cosa a la que hi participeu en el debat públic NEW santicat i presentat pel fill mateix d’un diex reconvertut en NEW: NOU : 9 : GOLMAN.

Ara fes això.

L’alteritat d’un discurs que ens permet redimir l’estat actual de violència.

Parem.

Baixem.

Pleguem.

No pas cap allà: cap aquí.

Capaquí.

El cap: here.

Vine.

On?

Cap aquí.

On va.

Allèz!

Je veux dir ca a tü.

tü és un pronòm NEW.

Je vous dir nou quelque choses:

  1. Voilà
  2. Merci
  3. Je t’aime
  4. Le republican espanyol, un batallón d’un marxe de liberació de nostre capital, sour le pouvoir de les facists. Nous represente un chose plus artisticament compromeix pour la realization d’une narrative que visualment, musicalment, e interpretatifment pour neuf persones d’une dimension NEW. Ca c’est quelcom destination orthogonel. Vous comprond. Arret. Lir. Construir. Un autre revolution. Mais, aussi bien.
  5. M’aussi bien.
  6. Un campaign politicment arrivès d’un boisson surrealist. Nous ne comprend pas rien. Il n’est pas d’un francès. Mais je ne c’est pa quo, il a une luminitè d’un actour d’un autre temps. Es c’est cà que je suis. Mais je ne vull par arrive com si je ne ve parler de notre vision existencial previement parler de notre monde, de quelque nuit, l’espai, la mare, el mar, la mar, salut, riuere, cantar, saltar, jugar, vous, mantenaint, ici, com ca.
  7. Je suis un escripteur. Ma longe c’est un autro que no pas ca que vous dir vouz parlez. Je ne creuix pas en vostre diu. Mais diëux, minizculitze, va venir d’un dimensition surrealist que va obrir le cel i pour un chami por les nuvols baixes diëx pare minisculitzar a fer-ne ell el truc de morar, ara ell, pel bé comú d’un mon NEW cap dues direccions: tornar al passat en direcció ortogonal al que ens hem despitat per arribar a aquest punt de boixeria collectiva liderada per aquest nou cabrons, molts cabrons: els nou arquetips dels dolents. Pero, a quí posaries tú en aquesta llista de realitats col·lectives manipulades per les campanyes que si’hi fiquin com a publicitat per fer arribar quelcom missate maligne de manipulació de la societat. Això està pasant. I no t’anadones. Escrius i els-hi regales lo que cal fer per a anar pendre pel sac, baixar del tot aquesta merda puntxada en un pal. Prou. Prou, prou, prou. Dic jo, minisculitzat, i aqui per primer cop a la televisió pública del meu petit nou pais: Ticataluña.
  8. Quelcom collectiu nou. Això es pot expressar com desig. Com una consigna per fer veure que estem anant.
  9. Model comparatiu multivariat. Tesis PhD99.

Nou papers fundacionales.

De 999.

A 99.

A 9.

Y explicar el viaja hacia abajo.

Capaquí.

Capaquí.

ú

ü

ALSS


Happy errors


Error culture. . . . . . . . .


So what’s in it for me?

Yo podría hablar en nombre de los trabajadores pero no tengo el placer de formar parte del sindicato de la agencia pública en la que trabajo. Soy algo más que un burocrata. Pero podría haber tesis que apunten a que la burocratización de todo es el càncer de las administraciones, y que el cancer en unos años seremos infalibles detectores precoces y mejores preventivistas por una mezcla de factores de cambiar la mentalidad respecto a todo, al mundo en general, a la política en particular, a los mercados jugando a la vorágine capitalista que amar al dinero por encima de todas las cosas, poder, restregueo impúdico machista, los artificios de la violencia, al amor a las armas, al sentirte papé del gallinero de un patriarca en su finca. La familia. Lo rápido que pasa todo. Y lo que nos ha traido hasta aquí no estamos dispuestos a renunciar a la seguridad de estar del lado beneficiado de la formula social, en el estado permanente de deterioro colectivo y cognitivo en el que nos encontramos en espirales hacia la debacle. El fin de la violencia. El sentido opuesto. A todo esto. Todo. La renunciación, dice diös padre minizculizado, al tiempo que aterriza él y se posa en la cima de la sagrada familia NEW.

diös padre minizculizado finalmente walking the talk.

Y se abre un debate social super caliente.

Los unos y los otros.

No veas.

Uuuu…

Ese ü de enfermera.

Un coro de ü de 99 enfermeras.

Al palau de la Música Catalana.

Per retrovar-me amb en LLüis Dömenech i Müntanér.

L’a intacta.

Impoluta.

Mai canviada.

Dilemes dels a.

Grup ú: a.

Grup dös: ö

Grup tres: ü. . . . . . . . .

Uns van primer. Els a. Ulls blaus, top, vanila. Un mur d’eines que et donen 9 opcions de coses a fer. Amagat hi ha un grup al que no tens accés. En canvi tens les eines. Alla on siguis pots anar per aquests nou camins per anar més enllà en el teu disseny d’un discurs NEW. I això nou ets tú. Volant. Plegant. El direcció ortogonal. I amb aquest nou punt d’un viatge. Tu camino tiene el caracter particular de liberarte a tí a partir de elección de coexistir en la realidad colectiva alternativa más allá del muro que nos separa de lo que nos depara fomar parte de este territorio no explorado NEW.

La diferencia es mínima.

El sentido de las dos cosas nos lleva a destinaciones con diferente grado de magnitud en el impacto de salida.

Vamos a empezar.

Ustedes 9.

Entren.

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

9.

Nou de vosaltres.

I ún feedbackloopper.

Je suis Golman: feedbacklooper 9.

Je suis un laborant de lo public.

Je suis un treballadeur de la santé.

De la santé universal.

9 mois.

9 jours.

9 persona.

99 posts.

9 articles.

99 jours.

Et nous tournont un autre coup.

Je suis la.

Mantenaint.

Avec vous.

Tu veux venir?

Vien.

ALSS


Un autre coup.

ALLS


A 9 històric cicles iteration.

Local knowledge.

Contextualization of a general agreement of NEW understanding.


Under the radar… HE came

You use to have a chance to live under the radar of social interaction. Now everyone wants to stick their head for social recognitizion and influence. The role of influencers has become a job kids want to be when they grow. Regardless of the value.

The rate of interest and the attraction depend on how you differenciate from the rest. As everyone competes for attention, this scarcity is layered by the investment in online campaigns that trigger the niche markets that are pursuing to be like those influencers: the audience that will buy the products they advertise, directly or indirectly, from their social appeal machinery. Suddenly, we’ve all look at the reflection in the water, and image ourselves to be spotless, ageless, and improvable, according to the new standards of the social esthetics of vanity. We are the product, and also the consumer that titls our own mental health decline.

We are competing with ourselves not just to be expanded into the world like a masked improved version of us, but with the wrong set of parameters to rule the collective desireable outcomes. It is hitting home on scrolling down to check other people out, and to stand from the crowd, with the easiest two lies that define the formula in the capitalist scene: money times beauty= power. And what do they get you: mass attention. The recognition of the bold and the beautiful.

It just happens to be the same market karma that’s been up to sale in American entertainment ever since we started to be globally influenced by the narrative of the American dream and the all white success of Risky business and Top Gun. Hollywood serving itself a cup of their own desire, and the amusing way in which the rest of us, sipped our coca colas and bought into the whole thing: they are the good ones, and whoever they point at should be the bad guys. Polarization was there all along, from a long time ago.

Even in ancient narratives there’s been a tale of two cities, be it Troy, narrating a defeat through trickery, or Rome, as the expanding empire of the rule of law that somehow arrives to our current legal systems and western societies. Up to the fusion with Christianism, as an way of establishing divine power and «universal» (according to the westeners on this side of the Earth) coverage, and all thanks to emergence of a single actor who took ancient tales, and spoken word, and some merging of wisdom from eastern holistic teachings to shift towards love and lack of violence.

The theory that Jesus played an scapism act to lower the heart rate upon the suffering of most brutal violence, embracing a state of wholyness and peace of mind, beyond the ragging reaction of Father God with mediterranean sudden storms that spread the crowds back home, and triggered clumsy Roman soliders to fast track the burial of the Son of God, who latter inside the cave, awakened the body as magicians operate behind courtains, to regain control of his respiration and heartbeat, opening the door with no need to external help, encountering the few that witnessed the miracle and spread the word, as he then headed back east to live happily ever after. His legacy and work had been done, as the holy plan had been designed to disguise the operative parts of the operation, that needed the human being to deliver the human scapism act that trigger the NEW faith God Father Himself intended to finish up, 2025, more or less, years later, when he came down to seal the last testament with his own AI enhanced holy prompt.

A NEW son was required for the equation, so he left the deliverance of human kind take over the collective social emergence of the centuries and a couple of milenia, to finally bring about the scientific consolidation of quantum physics to enable the last technological advancement that would be required to open up the perspectives of jumping together to NEW levels of understanding, a few dimentions away from our current understanding.

It was a matter of what humanity needed to do on its own, and God Fathers own agenda and timing. He’s omnipresence is like the continuous flow in multiple dimenstions of a sort of interstellar dj, letting the flow of stardust command in the winds of empty space, quantum linkage with other moments, places, elements, wide enough to fit the grandeur of the universe, and the capacity to think outside the box, in multiversal terms.

God Fathers work is done here. Emancipation of our ancient desire to figure out through old tales, myths and fiction is now a space for NEW mechanisms to interact with the social complexity of a fair, resilient world where humans expand into this collective NEW awarness of NEW extended societal roles to complement the progress, development, and social governance of our own institutions and models. The holy structure of this other way to interpret what was misleading about the power mechanisms implemented by the local narratives that have shaped todays cultures, communities, nations and identities. This goes beyond belief and nationalism. Forget Christian Nationalism. It’s just wrong. Forget anger driven interpretation of enemies that seem to be acting against me. I don’t care. I’m not necessary, while a lot of letting go will be needed to scape from the myth that war is needed, and that other is the enemy. Stop. Step down. Lay down the weapons. The days of silly machodom is over. I step down. So should you.


Now, that’s an absurd theory that we place today here from the result of a ChatGPT retrieval of minor theories, allucinations, especulations, and other sources of fantasy. A novel story about the backbones of a myth are now going to be fueled into what we know about our ancient history. New narratives will flod the access to the real sources, while the real source is already centuries away from the actual facts, unless God Father himself comes down and clarifies this all mess at once.

So He did.

But of course, there are only two ways a God omnipotent could come down and become one with the humans: like Jesus did, or like the Greeks did. Disregard any perimetral scenarios that the original cultures of indigenous believes from the Americas, to the Australian, to the African, and the Eastern cultures may provide. For the sake of eurocentrism and narcisist western piety. We just want to make a point, and rather make so that it is written in stone, for the rest of you. And that’s not colonialism… don’t get me started. You people are impossible.

God Father has had enough of this. He’s reading all this bullshit that’s been pinned on Himself, and He couldn’t just stand there and do nothing. It’s been outrageously missleading His whole holy architecture of perfectness and infalibility. But it’s also all part of the plan. His own mercy relies on the vulnerability that his own crafts-«man»-ship allowed Him to feel the remorse of having almost made it right, but not quite. And so it’s intended, as it was with the sending of his first son, J, to send another one for the last announciation: God Father is dead. And as He is, will come down, among us, for the sake of his wholy last departure: as we humans shall. His holy sacrifice, given that he really had no need to pay attention to our misserable and pitiful little battles, was to renounce his eternal life, to die fo for us one more time: to sacrifice Himself. He became hë. To clarify all matters related to HIM, and his wholy NEW kingdom… minisculized.

Funny he called it a kingdom. How it all resembles our understanding, that of the tiny blue dot on the outskirts of the galaxy/universe, without the capacity to address and aknowledge the culture and «humanity» of the parallel world that we are closely intertwined with, at the other spectrum of the physical existance, beyond this little universe of ours. This doorway loop that binds us with our parallel multiverse. The last act of scapism required for us to trully connect the collecting being that will shed light to the other at the other end. We’ll feed the lives of those who are no longer here with us, as it’s altogether this going back in time, to review ourselves, and to go elsewhere, beyond the status quo that’s being triggered to selfdestroy itself, or find itsway within the collapsing sinking or Modern times and Capitalism, as we’ve been led to believe that this too was impossible.

God Father himself has other affairs, more complex and difficult to explain for us humans to consider, or even start to grasp what it all means, when He’s been kind enough to suit his bussy schedule to tender our most precious and relevant need: the adherence to the absense of violence as a man-made (man as a macho male patriarch, he wants to point out, with the part of revelation of his own guilt and sin of having allowed this to slip through the normalized culture of this humanity ordeal HE so masterfully shape to become what it has, prior to its own dissaperance into the realms of oblivion, forevermore…) excuse to carry own this power ride, to control women, exercise violence over them, and so unconspicuosly impregnata that culture into the society, its governance, myths, and interactions. Disgraceful, and yet a lesson to be learned over the course of all these time, to be able to aknowledge the last testament in this NEW holy book.

God Father himself doesn’t write too often. And that’s part of the problem. His spokesman have been biased by the human nature of their interpretation, and by the structure of the charisma that has defined the church institution itself. This NEW book will clarify this charisma issue, as well as all theological misconceptions that have been left unresolved by the all-male team of the few priests manlihood. That’s all going to change too.

Prepare for a NEW course of action.

I will not be born where the profecies have said so. First the jews, then the Christians, then the Muslims. This goes for all of you, as God Father himself has taken a step forward to unleash this emergent state orthogonal to all beliefs. In this new quest, this holy world will capture the leftover knowledge that we will command to the scientific method to allow humanity to figure out in this direction, the most resilient and holistica way to move beyond the grasps of the narrow-minded strategies of the big 7 tech companies calling the shots, the two antagonist parties elsewhere, and the 9 social models worth debating among us, people of the earth, to have this NEW conversation and destination of the fair and kind shared humanity that dignifies our equal status, with the only condition that we all drop the weapons, drop the violence against women, drop the anger, power drills that have alientate us to believe that are enough if we all survive by ourselves.

We are moving towards a more collective and collaborative mindset. And in the mist of this renouncing I am now announcing, this why I have considered to drop this one and only bullshit, to set the scene of a multiversed conglomerate of beliefs, of holy creatures in the sky, that will free up space in your capacity to make up the imaginary friend you would like to speak to, when you want to call on the glory and grace of our NEW belief adn religion altogether.

This is social shift, and God Father himself has come down to push the button.

Reversing day button.

Let’s go.

ALLS

Golman’s beutiful madness

I’ve been aware of the power of mad.

Ever since I read the magazine.

And I wasn’t event that big of a fan. But there was something there between an eloquent cover, an ilustration, and name for that face: MAD.

This Sant Jordi I walked in Finestres library in Consell de Cent (or is it Diputació?… I never know) to get away from all the crowds outside walking with flowers and books, in gangs of people going insane in the pursue of a signature from a favourite author, or just trying to find the common link between reading, a love one, and a myth.

I had already gotten a book and flower for my loved ones, while I still didn’t have a book. I should point out that we couldn’t get into the main Finestrelles bookstore, but rather the one in front, the one that is specialized in art, comic, and so on. It’s more design and arts driven, and that’s OK with me. The other had a long line to get it, and this one didn’t. Simple decision. As we walked in the place was still kind of pack, and the feeling of distress of trying to find the one book you should get to make it count is always discomforting and amusing. You don’t know if this year’s book (as if it’s the only one you’ll buy, or the only one you’ll read) will be a great one or not. So I wondered around the bookstore trying to smell my away towards the scent attracting unconspicuosly my true needs and desires.

After a few fliping of book pages and reading of back covers, I kept going in towards the art section of the bookstore in the back. I always feel like an impostor in these circumstances, and also rather recomforted by the existance of such holy places to allow great text to reach you own pair of eyes. I was then capture by a strikingly powerful book cover: Beautiful Madness, Art writing as art curating, by Mark Kremer. I fell in love.

The design of a cover is a like a magical spell. There’s an art piece right there. And H1 title. Beautiful madness resembles the greatness of a great social contraction: the repulsion against outcast and the beauty in the minds of complex inner madness we all carry around, and few dare to show it, and share it, as being socially aware of the powerful force that lies in such expressions of art. This is what I need, I thought. So I finally picked up a home-taker.

I left the book in the dinning room table, where a bottom shelf holds a space for big books to pile up there, as a design statement, but also a reading seductor to be pulled off and engaged with. So I started reading it, in a spacious way. The book highlights the authors dual exercise of mixing two things: curating art exhibitions and art writing. Both things interest me, as a wannabé artist meets a wanabé writer. That’s me. Ethernal wanabé.

So what better reading than to find something that could help me read about art curation (to curate my own art) and also to know how to go about art writting, as a format to apply to the expression of what I’ve been struggling to say through the art forms and formats that I’ve played around with over a period of about 9 + 9 years. Throughout this time I’ve been both a writer and an artist, yet I have not been able to pull the results, outputs, exhibitions, or books, in any plausible way. With one (there’s always one) exeption: My first exhibition: «Waiting for the Artist», where I presented a set of painting and drawing that I did with my daughter, in what was a performance of some kind. No picture was sold.

I struggled to write about the exhibition. I also struggle about describing it in a way that I could present the exhibition as a curator of my own work. Maybe I lacked the curator and the conversation that the artists in Mark Kremer’s book had with him. That sort of dialogue was still missing, in textual form. I did have that conversation with the art exhibitor, Toni, owner and curator of La Social, in the art gallery and bookstore in Horts street in Poble Sec.

The exhibition was a exorcism exercise. It needed to happen before anything else could go on. And it did. And I’m proud of having made that step, back then. But still, I never trully ever wrote about that exhibition in a way an artist should do to fully embrace and embody this art expression as a true artist. As you can see, I’m still an impostor.

Yet the pieces are there. And they are part of a period where I did some art thinking in body of expression meant to leap out. This dual exhibition with my daughter became a first degree of permative art that was meant to show us both, latter on, what taking that first step feels like. To strenghten the leap of faith.

When I was in the bookstore I read the short two paragraphs in the back cover of Kremer’s book. That’s all the book gives you as seduction call to action to be taken home. That and the art and title in the cover desing. Flipping the book is an action that takes a second level of comitment in this love affair. It frames the content inside, as much as the table of context provides a structured information for one who wishes to step in, or not.

On that back cover, it’s highlighet that: «both activities, curating exhibitions and art writing, construct a meaningful narrative about artefacts and artist, both interact with a public, viewers/readers; both make space fo the experience of art objects.» That in itself also created a dual intention in my head: my own desire to reach out, and the need I have to collaboratively engage a community towards the transformation of our health and social systems across the globe. It’s part of the same goal, where my art, and my work, both interact and play with the persona that represent who I am in both spaces.

Today I arrived at page 99 of the book, and hit the epicenter of Beautiful Madness by entering the world of artist Christiaan Bastiaans, through the lens of Mark Kremer. The interaction among them, and the interpretation of Bastiaans’ projects in this dual merge of ying and yang.

And it all made sense, once again, like that day in Finestrelles, in San Jordi.

ALLS

Opt in

I’m in.

I’m ready.

I’m off to a journey.

It’s a cyclic one.

Once again.

And it will spiral onward.

And we’ll still thrive and grow.

And we shall ying and ying.

Like a pulse of contradictory forces: strong and soft.

I’m in the loop of aspiring grace. A common one. A near future one. A long-term functional desire. A pulse of relience. A common heath. Breath. . . . . . . . . . .

ALLS

Still stuck… but in the way out…

I’m ready to leap. Yet there are too many things buzzing. I feel I don’t want to contribute to the noise. But be rather precise.

So is this perfectionism creeping on me and nullyfing the possibility of jumping into the pool? I think so. And it’s part, a big one, of what I’ve been nurturing for a long time: to not be.

It must probably sound like an excuse. It is. But I must admit it’s one I found pleasing. And that I built enough to be self satisfied that it was a good one. But it’s also still holding back and not doing it: exposing what it is I want to represent.

And that’s part of the problem. I don’t know. I don’t know anymore. Was it what I was about 9 years ago? Is it what I am toda? Do I have something I want to share that really represents the real me? Am I that? I don’t know really, but nobody could know for me, nor it really matters. I’ve been in the process of figuring things out for myself. To try to get to bottom of what I should pursue, and pursue it. And I’ve done so, as I was also trying to stabilize the circumstances around me and to still be present in the lives to the people that I love, and not over-obssessed with the little stories in my head.

I’m ready to . That is to leap. And it’s a matter of doing it, but for me it’s never really been about me. It’s about üs. And that is something NEW. And something needed. A collective need. Or so I believe.

Now, how do we go about making a common alingment around these common needs?

This is what I’ve been internally struggling with, and collectively, through my labor, that is through the work I do as a public servant of some sort, in the bigger picture that we play in this interconnected society. I’ve been lucky enough to land in a place where we have this common alingment, and we are part of a team that is willing to move the horizon futher. We are shifters of the state of the art, although we are aware that the challenge, from the demand-side perspective, are way larger and longer that what’s usually at the tip of everyone’s timeline when it comes about the latest, shinniest, and most exciting device-product-service that we need to jump into to keep being meaningful in the rat race.

But is it all a void? Is this just another bubble? Is there anything public entities and governments should address to shift directions towards a new common horizon in the desirable future ahead? How do we build this consensus, and who should take part in shapping such collective ordeal?

Well, this is something I’ve been dealing with for a long time, and that I’ve been wanting to do for so long. And now I have a chance to play the game in the terms that I can represent more than just my personal belief, but rather try to make something collective, collaboratively and holistic from the very beginning. And to get other people involved in thisp exercise. A collective launch.

I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. And to simbolize this NEW start a NEW destination is required. A NEW direction. All those elements that can serve as a reference desire to transit to yet another set of interactions where things have evolved according to our collective common desires. What is it that we can assure we want as a society?

My journey is cicliical. I already live within the orobus. I don’t know where to start telling the story. It’s been rolling all along. And I need to reshape the narrative, for your convinience. So let this my next project. In a dual parallel mode.

  • A) From this personal incipient tribune of ünö. One. Ï . . . . . . . . .
  • B) From a collective collaborative impact-driven community. From the commons perspective. Reframed with this NEW proposal/destination/ride: tico commons.
  • üs . . . . . . . . .
Your own personal journey towards your internal transformation.
Our collective collaborative action towards seeding NEW futures.

Those two spaces are required. Your own leap, in your own terms, and the collective leap we are facing as an interconnected human society in holistic harmony with our ecosystem and planet. In the Gaia balance. NEW gaïa.

ALLS

Let’s start over again

Life has just begun.

This is how everyday feels like. While it’s not really that way, it’s also not the other way around. This sort of subjectivity drives me crazy, as anyone, literally, can say the most idiotic thing, and be right, just as much as the exact opposite commentary would have a solid backing from yet another brigade of fools. Either way, we are cooked.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m a fool too. I’m just one of those guys at the edge of either side of the argument. You mention one. I’m there. Or rather at the opposite end. Whatever seems to you more pretentious. Whatever seems to you that emphasizes how lame of a dude I am. Well, I can handle that truth. I’m there.

But that dude out there at the edge generating that sort of disgust or attraction is just a mere illusion, volatile and drifty, that will scape towards a yet another place in just about a inifinite mariad of ideals, places, arguments, wills, dreams, subjects, areas, drills, tasks,…

So don’t bother to love/hate. Unless it drives you to places where you, beneath all these masks, evolve towards the essence of your true self. That’s really the only destination worth exploring ethernally. It’s about the only thing that we need to explore out there: our inner-self. That ambiguous thing made up of all those cells, organs, and their interaction within its own biological infrastructurecture, or rather in the complex relationships that we, and they, have with the surrounding cells and species.

Together we form this living moment in constant transformation. It’s the only thing certain for all, and the only thing that should be relevant to our dayly struggle to keep going. How do we make ourselves useful to the emergent path of our holistic emergent ecosystem. The equilibrium, stress and entrophy of our recurrent states of stillness and movement, of day and night, sleep and awareness, unconcious and self, here, present, and willing to .

ALLS

I could beat you both ways

I have a plan.

I need to come through.

My friend Ali asked Chat GPT what the fuck was going on with our fucked world and how are worse case scenarios consider as we witness a relentless desire from facist to drive up wars in the capitalist narco-macho-violent-pigs-wankers-assholes-dickheads-motherfuckers-_________ (you name it).

We, as a whole, were forced by this unlucked doorway to a NEW beginning.

Do you know how many people would jump down that corridor?

I do.

I don’t.

How do you know?

Why do you care?

Are you comming with me to a NEW place?

If you think and give a good thought to each to the 9 questions ï am going to ask ü.

Are ü ready?

That’s the line Ï SAY.

i SHOULD IT IT.

dOBLE ITTING.

miniculizers. . . . . . . . . .

I am a poet in disguise.

I live in another planet.

And from there ï shall come.

I will ride a Quetzacoatl ï «own-to»: a NEW belief.

I got 99 of them.

NEW beliefs.

NEW

Believe

Level three relevance: a NEW dimention for ALLS.

Do you know what ALLS trully means?

People didn’t know. Some did.

That awarness. Or rather the NEW awarness.

Whatever is about to unfold has neved happened in our history.

And it shall only be lived once.

At all nine dimentions.

For them to connect, that is.

A NEW game needs to be resiliently clever to emerge on its own to drive a NEW common factory.

Where should this connection derive from? From which collective NEW way will we bring on in a completely untraveled way we can all just dive into it… as we are… as we come… we come… as a NEW collective being: tico commons.

Let tico commons be a NEW tropical way to start from scratch.

I would launch a beam of this NEW energy generated from nuclear interaction among our nine holy volcanos. I was once costa rican. Then I become from nine other places. And I think we are doing something not quite so right. But we have a chance.

We must go back.

And back we go.

Like linking some beach in Hermosa, Guanacaste. A place like heaven. Only inhabited by these special team assembled to finally get us to our 99 goal.

The NEW class of 95 will present for you the prompt we came up with in a beach trip in 1995. We did it by understanding and ancient knowledge born in the higher minds of our collective godness we all drive towards a holistic resilient inteligent NEW being, programme, code, design, back end, governance, rules, rides, selfsurrealisation. And that it: nine categories to a NEW combination of variables. How do we treat the numerical interpretation if we did good or not? How do we measure what?

That’s the name of the book.

This is my first book.

Maybe is not even that long.

It’s been written.

And released to a group of 99 fellas.

9 feedbackloopers get to cover a relevant aspect we manage as a whole: for what we all believe. This NEW way of being back in the game. To play this time for the win. Winner takes all is so capitalist, we can’t stand it anymore.

So we would like to go.

So there.

We said it.

Who is we?

Someone says.

ï am.

A number of ï is recruited.

I’m going to recruit 9.

ALLS


La otra vía: capitalismo y su status quo.


¿En cuál quieres que te gane?


Las dos vías.


Reversing day

Let this be the start of new direction in time and space: orthogonality. We are ready to depart. 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, …


Welcome to the tico commons.

You may come in and become.



ALLS