Autobiographic Reality

So this is the first bog I write that is suited for all the ones who asked me to write in English so they could understand...
hectic life... I love it, well Friday night I went to a really deeply interesting conference, which was held by some young Latin-American writers... very cool, very nice.
well what held my attention was what they talked about, they managed to talk for about 2 hours about the autobiography, the use of language and the existence of reality... I cannot just accept everything people tell me without making my own opinions about stuff....
so I was quite interested in the talks although I have to admit that a few times I almost passed out, logged off conscience and was about to snore, but somehow I managed to stay awake, man, I went out Thursday night until like 4 am I was friggin tired, in the end... I wasn’t even supposed to go to the conference but somehow... let me call it destiny, I went.
ok this is where this gets readable...
writing is in itself an the art of the expression under one's special style, is trying to convey the multidimensional reality with the simplicity of the language, is all about being a word chameleon( spelling?) inventing the fictitious out of the reality and vice versa, it's about multiplying the narratives and giving someone (reader) everything about oneself. GOD it scrambled all over again my dreams and my choices, but my ship has sailed I guess.
so I got to meet a bunch of writers, or writer wannabes, but still very very cool, I can bet my own head I was the youngest person at the conference, I had fun, I had coffee, I had wine... always good always nice.
back to the interesting part...
is not about dominating reality (does it exist though) is about approaching it, the precocity of the world shows itself as an eternal being thanks to the use of language, so here exactly is here I became a philosopher (spelling?) and I started pouring my own ideas in the little paper I was handling: so is life really the same tale with different named characters and different scenarios for everyone in this planet? can we fight against it? and if we do is there a way to win over life without dying? facts move in a different dimension for the author, every passion gives life to a tragedy.
autobiography: saying something truthful about one's life, writing autobiographies... is it a way to accept the loss of the ability to write a novel? the author dies as soon as he's done with writing the phrase, not literally of course but u know what I mean...
so quoting Giovanna Rivero's words... what the fuck is reality anyways, are we justifying our lives? are we slaves of pursuing desires? even in the present?
so let me put it this way: an autobiography is written to tell the story of the life of the author, it is intended to not skip any juicy detail nor change the truth of how the person really is, it is so hard to accomplish that though, the writers usually change stuff to preserve their somewhat not intact dignities.
But, this is now really the product of my thoughts: if the change is actually lying when regarded backwards (in the past), is change also a lie when talking about the present? Whenever we try to “improve” are we actually lying to our truth?
Is there d difference between thoughts and realities? Truth doesn’t exist we are using the language to lie. I guess my point here is that Reality is Relative… back to my physics interest huh?
We cannot live in the truth by closing ourselves in our own perspective, is truth actually in one simple affirmation? And what if we find the truth is it really IT or is it only a part of a bigger thing. I have to state that we all live constantly under prejudices and that insanity is actually wisdom… I have stated more questions than answers but it is in the end my train of thought so deal with it.