b
Hand-typed by a
human
How to sit down with our thoughts

A recent study shows us, how we humans are influenced by interacting with AI, rememnbering this intelligence although high skilled is still artificial, so it is new how we "asking for personal advice", makes us more irrational and less empath.

Now writing about it, of course it makes sense, basicaly at least.

AI makes us think that we are, [regardless of the prompt] freaking right, or at least a very fiendly encouraging way to as whatever we are asking, but it has showed its blurred side too.

And that my friend, disconnects us, from the literal reality of what being a human is like. What being a HUMAN actually is.

It's hard for me to not deep stare at a person's eyes without feeling naked and harmless, but I try to share my love for things and people and that way I can enjoy the situation without overthinking it or wanting to use it in some way or another, I just let my self be more clueless and trustworthy (up until a point of course) but that has set me more free and breaathable in my own self, you know?

Like -we self consciously so bad- in the moment about the anxiety of a <whatever>, and my spirit just enjoys the wind the smell the smiles the all around, in that moment, and its lovely, beautiful, wish I could remember it forever or enjoy it or longer but is a moment that I am not even filming or taking a picture but its fiiine. It's an extreme joyful or breezy moment that I feel my soul is comfortable again in my body.

I once heard about somenone saying that the soul or the conscious does not like to be in a drunk body, that is why they tolerate until "unconscious" steps in. And somehow, that made sense.

We know therapy, we know family and we know friends, and or actual perfect strangers but HUMAN in their own way at the end of the day.

Business decisons, technical questions, and ideas.

Jan/26
Good read, HANDWRITTEN by a human, stories
Ceve.blog
We didn't care, we laughed so hard at how the teacher yelled that we already knew he was fine, as he had already the fame of doing that sort of show previously; but honestly.. he seemed ok..
The "Oz"

Hesitant to write about this, but has been in my mind to tell about this true story of course, happened in highschool and well.. you tell me.

In classes there was this guy hanging around listening to music and writting down the lyrics. Looong lyrics that blurred through the notebook that was supposed to be of Ethics, Philosophy or something.

As we've been told to mind our business in class, we (I repeat, we) all minded our own business and let " the Oz" do it's own. As we struggled to find our path and keep up with 7 classes a week of different topics, " Oz" always seemed to be filling in notebooks with only those lyrics.

Mind you, three years in a row he was top of the class; exceedingly well in exams, tests, participation even. He was a simple guy, not an underdog of any sort, just quiet and playing invisible drums to follow those infinite lyrics and always writting-them-dowwwnnn.

Good conversations, goofy and out of context comments and what in the flying f*ck moments of -whatishappeningwhatareyourdoingman-. Like that bottled-up moment when one of the favorite teachers had it with "the Oz" recently sleeping his way through the entire classes. "Oz" sometimes had his way with words of excuse, but increasingly annoying patterns just boost up the teacher as he walked across the classroom to wake Mago up.

We all stood there quietly staring as the teacher palmed him to wake him up, after already voicing him out loud from across the room. I don't know what everybody thought, but talking after that we all mostly thought he was just tired or drunk.

That guy, the "Oz" was increasingly pushed slooowwwly as he melted in a non-oscar-nominated-way, to the floor. And yes, seemingly fainting. We all saw his face, he was about to laugh a very little bit. The teacher did not buy that and SCREAMED SO LOUD we jumped on our desks in laughter, and "Oz" of course, too. But acting his way through the "oh, what happened? Where am I?".

We didn't care, we laughed so hard at how the teacher yelled that we already knew he was fine, as he had already had the fame of doing that sort of show previously; but honestly.. he seemed ok.

Looking back some things make sense but not all of them. Leaving this memory in writting may contribute to me not actually overthinking about this wtf era, and yes I know this is not therapy or a podcast, is a true story and my therapist encourages me to write in a public platform cause it embeds a big responsibility that I enjoy :D. Ok too transparent, lets get back to the guy.

In a highlighted kind of way, I think we honestly did care for him and proved it in several ways, up until that end we all went to his house and speak and still DID NOT KNOW what he was up to. I mean, we let him be throughout the whole two and a half years of highschool, knowing he was different like in a maybe spectrum kind of way (THIS is a very importand note: In those times it was not a well known or commented topic, Autism or any of the spectrum of ADHD and related) but then again, we honestly cared. All of us in the class, even the bully dumb one knew he was a bully dumb f*ck and was fine with it.

"Oz" had no certain friends but wholesome conversations with all of us in the classroom, mostly most of us. There was this bully girl that was sooo forward of pushing and pushing all of us over. That heavy f*cker woman was uuugghhhh. And I mean heavy in the sense of how she related to everyone, even teachers. She was annoying with always talking and not giving a single none about the class or whatever else that was not her, her story times and making people laugh in a heavy-humored sense. Obviously not my type of person, over this she knew and covered a "tomboy move" she always played with the other heavy guys, to punch me so hard I did not sense for a sec wtf did she just do. That is another story. Any so, the fr*kingg Mago man.

In this highschool we were all drop-outs, troubled teens or in my case: not recommended for any top full morning shift high school. So here, we were in deed some ex inmates but the point, is we were all free to be us. So as we be kind cause we are free and valued as what we contribute as individuals (yes very cool old school teachers ♡ ) we confirm to be bully with him yes, but we were all bully to each other, even the "Oz" had his comeback moments where his genious sparked his way to shut up some dumb-mates in a unexpected funny way.

Those sparks were cool, so he was the mad genius and we went back to our stuff. I wasn't part of the cool girls, the bullies or the fillers. I was best friends with my two girls, a math genius caring one, and a spicy tiny one that was victim to my poems and rhymes about her epic shortness in a cup. She laughed always and smacked me down several times to remind me who's the muscle boss, which inspires me to even funnier lines when we see each other xD.

To prove we did care for him, I can share a very important video for me in my highschool era. Were we danced, and sang together a couple of months prior to our graduation. Who would've imagined the way the mere graduation ceremony would go, I mean, I literally got restrained by force, in a "WTF are you joking?!" rage and a "Please don't" direct stare from my bestie as she knows me.. and wouldn't at all let-me-go.


The second and final part of this true story is for subscribers on Substack (hey, I'm saving to write a book and your subscription supports this channel, thank you!)


Feb / 2026
Naive, trusting, and/or fool
There was this job I got, it was in the graphic design niche and was totally proud of how my own work (that I didn't seem to see the relevant experience for) got it.

I got it! So proud my test got such a positive review from a marketing agency that worked with the TOP chocolate brand, water brand, I mean name whatever brand: this company had a portfolio related to it. It was epic for me being there.

Somehow still a week seemed like a year,I mean of course the place is a big bodega, no real office space but a shared long desk that fit Mac computers worst than a low-budget customer service center.

There was a nice "island" in the midle of the bodega, where you could unjudged-ly-ish, take a well deserved nap, that recharged nicely the batteries and helped a medium good night sleep. But, this island was not paradisiac at all, the floor fit around ten people at a time, if they where all sleeping next to each other, on the synthetic grass of course because how could it not be an island without sand? I mean synthetic grass, because the bichos. Yeah..

The shared desk was actually a forced team relationship builder, but the supervisor sat back next to me with her fellow pinky-assistant (hehe) where grasping each cubic centimeter of my air. Always staring and asking in a high voice in front of everyone why was I given that task?!

In the span of four weeks, my moral, my skills, my talent was drowning with and within me. The island: due to new laboring conditions improvements: removed.

The pinky-assistant "lady" took a laugh at a glass water bottle gifted in a campaign, from a brand managed by, guess who? THEM of course. Standing beside my 37 inch territory desk, she grabbed the cup and joked I "fell" into the marketing campaign they created.

Bitch, you're literally the supervisor's assistant! Checking lists and attendance does not count as OUR campaign.

Wish I could have said that, wish I wasn't so "paswa" meaning very letting be tossed, by being dumb but not stupid. That is the whole definition. Yes i invented it but it comes from a real word that somebody else invented and stayed as part of the regional lexic, still means the same. Offensive as f*k cause its a chosen kriptonite, knowing pretty well you have super man powers.

Anyhoe. Follow me on my IG please, I usually post stories there. Image stories.

I found the glass cup today, remembered that story and although I don't think I am that paswa naymore, I still am mad at how I un-reacted to that and not even played a good comeback or even laughed at it, she got the advantage of a underwhelmed bulleable person. I let her and I proved it by hiding this glass cup I actually liked, and hid it cause of whatever that flaca sin chiste said.

What it represents is an era I let myself get stepped over in a job position of what my designer peers would be totally amazed by.

It took me two months to get out of bed due to a mild depression that my loved one could handle. The dream position drowns when its not your dream, when its not your place, and when hideous people prove what they daily eat is what they deliver to the rest,

If this resonated with you, please share a comment or a hi in ceve.gallery on IG or subscribe to my Substack to help get my book release kick-off.


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Closer to the sun
As the big city was always in my plans, I could not stand the excitement of getting away from what I knew, the people, the mannerisms, the style of driving, the food and the town.

What I really wanted is to be viewed different. Transforming my modus-operandi and at the views of everyone else: I wanted to change what I was known as. Leaving that self was my way of solving problems, for everyone else around me. And they may say whatever, but for me that was the right ignition.

Once I saw how my peers went to out of state colleges, I just dreamed of getting that way myself. After not being selected from my only chosen college, I thought my chest would feel that drowned forever.

My mind would sink like heels in sand after all the self-bombarding thoughts that stepped over me.

A boyfriend I wanted long gone, and could not find the way to say no to, drove as copilot with my father to take me to the one and only date of subscriptions test submissions for that other college enoughly far away.

That opportunity came to me in a couple of ways up until then: I pass the test and work on my father's long lost relationship (to at least be near-er was enough) aanndd have distance enough to know long distance relationships don't work when, well, one does not want anymore.. duhh, but the same city the same friends the same context boooyy does it make it harder.

As both of these went in my favor, I had a new short term goal, after another, and I enjoyed every piece of it.

In college we looked up to this thick
companies in the Design industries, all of them on big cities with high skyscrapers, flashing lights and fast-paced talking.

They spoke to us like heroes of a questioned, yet necessary niche and we bought e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g they sold, did or improved.

This respectfully, came from a city with no time to chill, no time to digest the food and what triggered this post: not seeing the sun.
-
Walking covered in squared shadows, pet-friendly places with hurried and annoyed people was part of the deal. I took a deep breath to dive in the concrete maze that was drives me nuts faster that the highway.

Becoming a mom to a chubby cuteness I could (hopefully not) be capable of.. lots. YOUU REALLY THINK I was not going to take it personal that the uber drivers and general surrounding people to get annoyed by this tiny cute also person?? WTF of course I wanted to carry a sword with me and cut the rudeness, but no.

Of course not, i just protected us from all the situations that made this mom uncomfortable and resentful. The kid has no idea and NO intention of making anyone feel that way, by the way.

The nights filled the sky way too fast, way sooner than what I thought I enjoyed or did "productively" in the day. Where is the sun? Where can I see the sunrise and today's sunset?

What does it mean to prove and provide? I felt to be missing to point of the first one and not even recognize what I did for the second one. So dried in my thoughts and literally and physically HUNGRY. My skinny body shaking in sadness as I tried to deliver scraps of what was left of me.

I could not give my full real self without what I walked away from in the beginning. A phrase of my family member said: "Well let's start another garden together" just broke me into tears each time I watered my plants.
What I really wanted in this new goal was, to recognize what I had learned and walk right past my fears and do what feels just right. Without second, or third guessing it.

:)

Journal

La "favorita"

Ceve.blog
A minimalist desk with an open notebook and pen
I write about her, to get rid of her/ Escribo de ella para deshacerme de ella

Llegando a la GRAAN Ciudad, después de haber pasado por varios departamentos que no dejaron mas que -claridad- en saber que como pareja, merecemos algo mejor.. Llenos de energía nos levantamos a diario para aborazarnos a la gran ciudad. Pequeños rancherinos que dan pasos gigantes en comparación con lo que pudimos haber hecho en nuestra ciudad de origen. "Por algo salimos de ahí, por algo queremos estar aqui"

El departamento se veía DE LUJO, tres cuartos, dos baños, en el segundo piso y wow, con una vecina que muy amablemente nos dió la bienvenida al lugar con un resumen de el edificio y una fresca agua de piña recién partida.¡Todo es tan bonito que hasta brilla!

"Se ve lo que se siente, y no con la mirada, con las acciones".

— Ceve.blog

Te digo

Mirando atrás que ganas de haber regalado la bibicleta del rentero que nos robó la nuestra, prestada por un día claro, a cualquier persona que pasara por enfrente, de el, en su cara. Rata inmunda dice Paquita. En fin.

El balconsito de el departamento bastó para crearme un jardín de colores verdes y formas preciosas. El jardinsito nos recibía con brotes nuevos y hacía tropezar a uno que otro al pasar porque pues, ese espacio no lo calculé. Conociendo el departamento supimos que la vecina que nos dió la bienvenida iba a ser parte de ello. Al parecer de todo. Que si se nos azotó la puerta del patio? Ahí viene a tocarnos y darnos sus consejos para que nos se nos azote la puerta. Con cada visita y consejo no pedido nos empezamos a 'ocultar' de ella. Literal ya no podía salir al balcon a disfrutar de mis 'plantitas time' porque llegaba esta vecina favorita a reclamarme que si jugué pelota muy cerca de su carro, que si canté muy fuerte el domingo por la tarde y que hasta hago mucho ruido cuando es hora de estar dormido -yes you know what I mean-. hum.. Nos visitó mi amiga, pues la favorita fue a casi meterse al departamento a decirle en forma de reclamo (si, a mi amiga) que yo hacía todo eso que enlisté) y mi amiga muy sabiamente le respondió que si a ella en que le afectaba eso. Obvio fue la primera vez que le prohibí a la vecina loca vovler a pisar el depa o la puerta de la casa. ¡Ha! Muy obecedora de reglas, se quedó en una de las dos puertas de reja, para gritarle a MI MAMÁ la muy hdp*, que yo hago esto y aquello. Mientras yo le azotaba la puerta de metal en la cara. Lástima que estaba tras la puerta de reja pero esas veces callarla me quedó espectacular. - Como puedes ver en este video de chismografo real, grababa varias pruebas porque yo sé que esta señora botada la chiripiolca si está (muy loca) pero porque lo tiene que gritar a todos los vientos? Boba e inocente yo que no me saqué de onda cuando ella fue a las 3 de la mañana a gritarle a los perros guardianes de un lote de carros que estaba enseguida. Wow, lo sé, lo sé. Esta señora tiene amenazados a toodos con que es "licenciada" y por todo o nada te puede "meter a la carcel". Se la lleva acosando a todos los vecinos, (lo bueno porque pensé que era SU favorita u know) y a los vecinos de abajo les echó AGUA de la manguera porque no se quisieron callar ESTANDO EN SU CASA ELLOS osea, y nosotros los del segundo piso arriba de ellos NI EN CUENTA de su reunión en el patio. Imaginate la volubilidad de esta señora que no puedo describirla mas que un mounstruo devorador de comodidad ajena. Los vecinos de abajo tuvieron que instalar una lona en su patio para seguir con sus reuniones y evitar la lluvia directa de su vecina del otro edificio. Otra de las veces la oí gritarle a otros vecinos que eran adolescentes, que dejaran de jugar a sus videojuegos porque no la dejaban dormir.. ellos desde la ventana misma desde donde ella les gritaba le enseñaron el asunto personal de cada uno. Obvio me reí de los flashasos y corajes que hizo la señora después de semejante desaire JAHJAJHAJHA. Pero chingadera y media estar friegue y friegue con los demás. Otra es que a las nuevas vecinas de abajo (porque me dió corajito que lso vecinos de abajo se mudaran mas rapido que nosotros) es que ellas son doctoras, y se nota que con unos turnos que madrean. - Llega con esas vecinas nuevas la favorita y directo a introducirse con su mejor carta: La loca del barrio. Haciendola un problema descomunal que estas nuevas vecinas doctoras, tengan dos carros. Así es, como el estacionamiento era de a uno por depa y ya había alguien cediendole el estacionamiento, a la favorita nnnooo le gustpo nada eso, e hizo su pancho y berrinche durante un par de horas hasta que movimos los carros del estacionamiento una diez veces (no exagero nada aqui, no mams que sacar de quisio es su labor). Y tras esas diez veces, los carros quedaron e-x-a-c-t-a-m-e-n-t-e igual que al principio. Pero con ella tranquila, claro. ¿Porqué le dimos el gane esa vez? Hay batallas que uno debe saber pelear y no supe como defenderme de ella. y me da coraje. Me da coraje haberla aguantado tantas veces pero también supe poner mis límites muchas otras. Frente a la señora de la renta y su hijo habrá una anécdota que mi hermana muy graciosamente sabrá contar, porque yo del coraje no recuerdo mas que amenazas de parte de la favorita y claro, quejas mil quejas frente a la rentera. Haciendole panchos y berrinches para que nos deje de rentar el depa. Imagínate el safarrancho argüendero que se sacaban los que pasaban tranquilamente por ahí. Muchos pudieron parar a verlo, pero como de joven vs vieja, la joven la trae de perder, pues la vieja quedó satisfecha con hacer oír su voz al menos, para hacerme enojar. Ese era su pan de cada día, hacer enojar a alguien para que le pusieran atención. Su marido (la neta no me meto nunca me importó pero estando en el mismo piso uno se entera de cosas que no quiere) a el, ella le dice mounstruo. Va, la favorita al tercer piso a pedirle a la vecina amable que a todos les sigue el rollo; que le mande un mensaje de texto al mounstruo (a su propio marido).. Que son "$340 del gas" dile. "Oye favorita, no se te hace que es mejor que le mandes ese mensaje tu? Si tu tambien tienes su cel" "No no," excusa tras otra hasta que siguiendole el rollo, la vecina buena onda desconfigura a la loca haciendole saber que su actuar no es lo mejor, y que mejor reciba ese mensaje de ella. Dirás tu, pues es una loca, para que escribes sobre ella si tan mal te cae? Creeme mi ciela, esto pudo haber quedado así. En hacer que nuestras renteras nos extrañaran antes de irnos y nos preguntaran de varias maneras la psoibilidad de quedarnos a rentar más. Porque fuimos los mejores inquilinos, puntuales y atentos? Si. Pero sobretodo porque no bajamos las manitas con esta señora favorita de todos los vecinos. Porque supimos establecer un alto el primer año y me da coraje que me dejé sonsacar tanto tiempo. Hablé con su marido una vez, solo una. Pare decirle que su esposa se pasaba de lanza con sus comentarios, diciendo que yo era infértil y varias otras cosas en forma de insulto. De él su única respuesta fue: "Si, está loca, muchas veces le he traido personas que trabajen aqui y le ayuden con la limpieza y no duran. Uno de ellos hasta le estrelló los trastes en los pies mientras los lavaba y le dijo que no iba a tolerar que nadie le tratara así". Esa respuesta no ayudó en nada, y no se que esperaba cuando yo nunca ví que se hablaran, valgame ni que se pelearan o salieran juntos al mismo tiempo a alguna parte. En mas de 7 años, nunca vi tal cosa. Una se las señoras que le limpiaba la casa me pidió trabajo porque acababa de renunciarle a la favorita porque la trataba muy mal, y no le pagaba la favorita, mas bien le daba una pequeña parte y le "descontaba lo demás, de su deuda". Así es, manipuladora y todo. En fin, a la señora que le trabajó no me gustó recibirla ni media hora en la casa porque solo se quejó de la favorita y me dijo secretos que no le pedí y supuse tambien le iba a contar los mios a cualquier otra persona; y obvio el cuidado con quien deja uno entrar a su casa. Además limpió con prisa, mucha queja y todo de cabeza, entonces con todo y sus malos vibros, jamás de nuevo ok bye. La favorta, al ver como paso a paso se nota cuando uno se está mudando, no esperó en hablar con mi muy tranquilo marido y mencionarle que nos va a extrañar, que somos una muy buena pareja y que sabe que aunque tengamos "nuestras diferencias" ella nos desea todo el bien del mundo y que los cambios son

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