Curiously, I did an exercise like this the other day. I was talking with a friend about how I'd like to write more and let go and be able to express myself and he suggested I just take a page and start writing about whatever is on my mind at that very moment, no judging, no reflecting on it, just immediate thought. If you keep that up for long enough, eventually you're going to stumble on something you might've not known you felt, or wouldn't have known how to put it. It's an effective exercise for loosening up. As to how many positive and negative words, I think it was pretty balanced, I guess the words you use depend greatly on what you're talking about and with regards to one's own life, one can always find positive and negative things to reflect on.
I enjoyed the exercise since it's a challenge for me to let go and write. 

I may come off as a bit harsh critic with this post, so I want to start b by saying that I enjoyed 'Gravity' very much. It was very entertaining and the production was very thorough, keeping accurate to reality for the most part. I watched the movie at Plaza Las Americas, a place that I reserve a special kind of contempt for. The theater was full and we were 15 minutes late; we had to sit up front. Whatever.
The movie was already beginning to gain momentum, and things seemed to be going from bad to worse. And I'm not just talking about Sandra Bullock's monologues; which were laughable sometimes. But the movie does a great job of highlighting the fragility of the human condition, how we lay on a thin threshold between life and death. I enjoyed this depth, and I especially appreciated the shots of Earth from space, which is a huge metaphor itself for our condition. The first person shots and the scenes from space were spectacular, but more due to the awesomeness of space than to brilliant movie-making. They were pretty thorough with keeping realistic with the physics of everything, as far as big Hollywood movies go. But what I especially liked was the references to real life things, and past space movies as well. I looked up that all the patches on the suits were accurate except the one on the Russian suit Bullock wears. I immediately noticed the number on the patch: 42. For those of you that are unfamiliar with the number 42, read the 'Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy' series immediately. Go now and come back. 


Done?


...



I'm serious go read those books. There's only 5 of them and they're fantastic.

Fine, don't read them. There's also references to '2001: A Space Odessy' in several takes and in a floating pen. The movie was laced with subtle things just on the corner of your eye, there to be noticed by the few. 

Of course, going to the movies is a social activity, unfortunately, and we were stuck with some kids talking on their phones during the most sensitive parts. One of my friends asked them to be quiet, "en buen puertorriqueño". They didn't talk again for the rest of the film. 

I enjoyed the movie, but I thought while watching it that it was philosophical, and with that ending (which I won't reveal) I was convinced that it was more theological; in other words, it's a religious movie. It's definitely worth seeing at least twice, and I need to re-watch it to pick up on the smaller details. 

Overall, I give it a 7.5/10 


P.S.
Briefly, on the subject of Earth and it's fragility, I'd like to share the most recent addition to the Sagan Series; a series of youtube videos that intend to... I'll just let the video speak for itself.
WATCH IT!

My attorney has advised me to start by saying this story was entirely conjured up in a dream and does not possess a single shred of truth or fact in it's entirety. 


[READ AT YOUR OWN RISK] 

That said, this wasn't exactly my "first time". but allow me to explain, these are complicated matters and they require patience, proper ambiance and true grit, but I digress. See, I'd already tried this particular substance twice before, but I'd hadn't yet had a significant effect other than mild euphoria and a serious case of the giggles. Recently, however, I decided to up the ante, double the stakes; or "dosage" as the medical community call it. Naturally, a journey into the mind on lysergic acid diethylamide requires a suitably epic venue [though a walk in the park may also do nicely]. If something is worth doing, it's worth doing right, right? So, naturally, when some friends and I heard of a concert of the symphonic orchestra interpreting Tchaikovski, we immediately knew what had to be done.

 We all put on comfortable, colorful, shirts and ate the tabs at 4:30pm on a Saturday. My friends took 1 each, I took 2 for the first time. The concert started at 7pm; the waiting begins. By the time we reached the Bellas Artes Symphonic Concert Hall it was around 5:45 and I was particularly captivated by the intriguing designs in the marmol floors. I shared this with my fellow travellers and they all agreed, via held back laughter, that it did, indeed, look fucking amazing. It's hard to explain however, exactly how you feel in those circumstances, but the drug community refers to acid trips as coming in "waves", and that's exactly what it feels like. It grabs a hold on the back of your skull, you can feel it's anxious intensity building, and releasing. We had to buy the tickets. We tried to negotiate to get 4 chairs together but were unable to; there weren't enough seats available. I say "unable to" because, by then, I would've been unable to carry out said negotiations without my, lesser distorted, partners. My thoughts were fluid and clear, by my mouth couldn't keep up to them. Speaking became increasingly intermittent and confusing. The 4 of us, however, seemed to understand each other perfectly, but we had to separate in pairs (which turned out being best because we could manage ourselves in pairs, we also made pretty couples). The wait seemed eternal. My perception of the passage of time was that of apathy, it didn't concern me. I knew that time had passed and would continue to do so, but I didn't want to worry when exactly "now" was. Time made me anxous, and we were sitting directly under a big, waiting room style, digital clock that relayed to us constantly just how much longer we'd have to wait for our concert begin. I just wanted to sit down, listen to some beautiful music and die.  Old people were beginning to gather by now. I tried to maintain eye contact to a minimum and kept keen on my body language, constantly focusing on portraying calmness and serenity, fighting the fear and paranoia. They have no way of knowing I told repeated to myself. My friend's attitudes and natural calmness helped calm me, and before I knew it, it was time to take our seats. We had gotten seats in the balcony, which is what we wanted, "for the acoustics", but we didn't expect we'd get the best seats in the house... to trip balls in. We had the very last row, our backs to the wall, the entire audience in front of us. This too shall pass. My paranoia breathed briefly, but a couple approached and it became obvious they had the seats directly next to me and I realized: "SHIT! I've got to sit next to people!". I tried to keep my friend's conversation under control, he kept joking about how awesome it would be if the orchestra played some Zeppelin. I didn't find this funny, I thought it could be an obvious tell of what we were doing. The paranoia grips hard, but not as hard as the euphoria. 

If this has so far sounded to you like the chronicle of a "bad trip", it's not by accident. Acid isn't for everybody. You need to understand what you're dealing with before you experiment. That being said, the following hours passed unfathomably quickly, and they were absolutely sublime and beautiful. As soon as the musicians began tuning their instruments, our conversation was immediately posponed. We were captured by the sound. Our minds were feeding on this banquet cacophony. The sounds, the movements, the lights, THE SOUNDS. It was possessing. I surrendered to it, and to the absolute beauty that these people were manufacturing, FOR ME NO LESS. This was all for us! We were truly appreciating every nuisance, every sparkle off a piece of jewelery, every musician producing their song, waves in an ocean of sound. I wanted to float away. The concert, and our voyage, was one, if not the, most profound, beautiful and challenging experiences I've undergone. I feel very accomplished for having gone through it without a hitch. For maintaining myself and flexing my willpower, coming out unscathed and feeling enlightened. Overall, I'll probably repeat the dosage, but in most likelihood it will be in a more secluded, private setting. Some remote corner where I can travel inwards undisturbed. 

The picture I choose is a two page spread in a sports magazine I’d normally never be reading. However, as I was browsing through the pages this one really jumped out at me, pardon the pun. In the center of the image there’s two young men in winged suits and equipped with parachutes jumping off the face of a cliff, into what seems to be the warm summer air of some beautiful, probably European, rural town that I’m never going to visit. To be fair, I’m probably never going to jump off a cliff either, but who knows. I chose this image because it shows great courage (or perhaps stupidity) in these two “adrenaline junkies”. Wingsuit basejumping has rapidly become the deadliest extreme sport there is. There’s zero room for error, you are inches from death for the entire time, and it all lasts approximately around a minute. Is it worth it? Depends on who you ask, because the answer to that question is very related to how you live your life and the decisions you’re willing to make. How far would you go to fulfill your passions and chase your dreams? At the moment, the most extreme sport I practice is trying to get around on a bicycle in the streets of Puerto Rico and, let me tell you, it gets intense. You fear for your life daily. But I love my bike, and, if I get hit by a car, I’d probably just keep calm and pedal on.   

I don't even know where to start with this. It's genuinely THAT absurd of an argument. To discuss the issue of the legalization of something, we must first understand it's prohibition, getting these mixed up is analogous to being for or against the death penalty being applied to a person without knowing what crime he committed. So, the most important question we must ask ourselves is when and why did marijuana become illegal? Well, it turns out that marijuana was first prohibited with the Marijuana Tax act of 1937. In Congress, the testimony appealing for it's prohibition gave examples of how this substance made "degenerate Spanish-speaking residents" even more of a menace, and how pretty young white women were falling victim to their seduction through the drug. Among lots of other factless claims, they also listed impotence as one of the potential side-effects of marijuana use. 

The FDA currently lists marijuana as a 'Schedule 1' drug, along with Heroin, magic mushrooms and more. This group is reserved for those substances that have a very high risk of abuse and addiction and that have absolutely no medical value whatsoever. How could that be, you may ask, when such an increasing number of people have been using marijuana to treat symptoms associated with the fighting of cancer, or with a myriad of pathological conditions and their subsequent side effects from the treatment with prescription mediciation. Well, it just so happens there's never been a formal government study on the medicinal benefits of cannabis; therefore, there are none. This is the flawless logic employed by the federal government of the United States of America.

The opposition to legalization are majorly religious organizations, or the conservative right, which buy into the government's [uncorroborated] arguments that it's a "gateway drug" and legalization will just enable more use. I think this is just silly. First of all because we already know what happens when you prohibit a substance and try to make it inaccessible. You drive up the price, create the perfect conditions for the black market to seize control, and worse of all we see a sharp increase in the rates of violent crime and imprisonment. Prohibition doesn't work. You simply can't make a substance, and the demand for it, disappear into the air; much less so when we're talking about a plant, a weed actually, that will literally grow mostly anywhere. It's not sensible to think about further prohibition. Regulation and taxation is the only viable option. 

Now, if you're still not convinced, I'd like you to take a look at the history of cannabis. It's been a major cash crop for centuries, it's one of the most multi-use plants in existence, it's easy to grow, and it's also one of the strongest natural fibers. Originally, in colonial America, a royal decree by King James I ordered all land owning colonists to grow 100 acres of hemp specifically for the purposes of exportation. George Washington and several other founding father grew hemp in their estates, and the Constitution of the United States of America (which seems to keep depreciating in value and integrity) is written on hemp paper, and is one of the reasons why it's preserved so well. 

I really don't know what else to say other than inform yourselves as much as you can, and try and see through the propaganda. Reach your own conclusions. Marijuana is a hot subject recently and we really need to have a clear memory of history to break free of this imposed 'Reefer Madness'. It's silly. There's simply too many benefits outweighing no real, tangible reasons opposed to legalization. But that's just my opinion.. here's some great documentaries and a few images to help make up your minds, including the 1936 propaganda film 'Reefer Madness'. Please enjoy responsibly.