My space

m-u-s-i-c!

2008-12-03T17:09:00.000-08:00

Music. Great invention. Divine. I let it travel through me. Let it inspire me in an unique way. I love music. I need it. Everyday, I wake up with a song in mind. A melody. A far away tune that brings me memories. Music ties everything up. We make friends due to music. We even fall in love 'cause of it. Whenever I listen to one of my favourite songs (isn't that great? to say 'my' songs?), I feel something. Like I listened to it for the very first time. And I just let it work its magic. I may be feeling like singing or not, but the song I choose will always have that effect on me. An effect that I know by heart, and yet every time is different, like a first time, each time.
I have learnt many things from music. Have learnt not to give up, and in some cases to do give up, to step aside.
Most times a song has had the power to change my mood, not always for better, but even there you can see how powerful this ancestral gift of God is.
So let's just enjoy, and be fed by the rythm, the sensations and the everyday poem, sang by the everyday artist. It's just magic. You feel the same? Good, 'cause then I know that you'll do this trip with me, and if we get lost, we'll simply listen to the wise melody, and that'll do.

I won't think

2008-11-29T15:28:00.000-08:00

Lilies that sorruond my innert body.
Music that comes from a far away place.
Everybody's going to the funeral, and I'm just watching.
This is my end, then.
Peace I feel, birds I see.
I will have someone to take care of me back there in eternity.
And I won't fear no more.
I won't escape, I promise.
For I will have found you,
And you and I, will be one.
We'll return at night, to see people passing by.
Not seeing us, ignoring us.
Just as always.
There won't be no pain,
And Iwill finally say I love you
I'm sorry.
Don't leave me. Come with me.
Eternity is a way back, and I don't want to feel lonely.
Not again.
But I won't think.
I'll keep my promise and won't think.
I know you'll come to me.
Somehow, someday.
Till that day
I won't think.

what do I write about?

2008-11-29T15:03:00.000-08:00

Don't know what to write about. Crisis. Desperation. Two entries to go and I'm free. But what? What do I say? Since last year I have literally written my life down. And now I have no idea of what to say.
Let's see: so far I have written about me, me, me, my family, me, my friends, my school, me , the shrink, teachers, me, seasons, people I love, people I hate (screw you!), books, pets, me, being homesick, being sick, being in love (more than sick), memories from the past, funny annecdotes, best friends ever, me boy, music, God, even these corky poems, and now I'm just in white.
So what can I say that you don't already know about me? This blog is really a reflection of myself. Thanks to it I've been able to discover aspects I didn't even know that existed on me. And I'm not saying it's all been great, but it's been useful, somehow. But that doesn't help now, 'cause I should be writing about something interesting, or at least something. But no. Can't do it.
C'mon, think of something. THINK! There has to be something: like this morning when you saw him again (forget it, too embarrassing), or how about last Tuesday on the bus, when you couldn't breath 'cause you had the 'thing' again? No. Ok, I got it: write about your first day at Lola Mora's Institude. Why? So that you have something you fool! Ok, you know what? I don't need you, so thanks, conscience, angel, other me or whatever you are, but leave it. I'll think of something myself. Serves you right, then. All right, help me. Hey, I'm talking to you! Where are you going? Wait up!!!

christmas again

2008-11-29T14:39:00.000-08:00

Let's supposse it's December. Let's pretend it's 24th. That means problems in my sick mind. I don't like Christmas at all. Why? Because it reminds me of bad things. It's been another year that I have deliberately left God aside. Me and Him, we have a strange relationship, you know? I have told Him that I will not go to church again. And that I don't want Him to worry about me.
In what refers to church, I don't feel ok when I go there. I barely enjoy being with people at that place. I feel a complete impostor, like someone taht needs to pretend that she's a good person. I am not a good person, not if I hurt God that way. But at the same time I can't help it: from where I see it, it's not a matter of faith, but of cheating on my Father. And I don't want to that, so that's why I had decided that.
However, God is in everything I do. I know that He walks at my sidde, watching me, helping me rise when I fall. I wish He didn't do that. It's not that I believe I don't need Him, how could I? It's just that I don't want Him to lose time with me.
So that's a number one reason why I don't like Xmas. And then it's these people, that would say 'Have a happy Christmas' and whatever, and the rest of the year they would simply through their car over you, just because it's in their nature. Wouldn't it be better if we acted more like we do every day? Or maybe that's the magic of this celebration, and I am not aloud to see it. Maybe next year.

black & white = darkness & light

2008-11-26T07:09:00.000-08:00

So I finally told our language teacher that Iwouldn't sit for the makeup. Boy, was I embarrassed! But I have to deal with it. I had had a whole year to work on this blog stuff, and I could have done better. Now what I can say in my defense is that I don't like surfing the Internet (makes me nervous). But that's not an excuse.
And to think that I could have passed (yeah, without the grammar part!!!). Anyway, what's done it's done, and now I have to concentrate on the final. It won't be easy, but I have to trust myself that I'll do it. Cause if not, if I start with this 'I'm afraid' thing, it will be a dissaster.
Last night, after I told him, I couldn't sleep. And when I did, I had nightmares (no kidding), but this morning I woke up telling myself that this may be happening for some important reason (not just because I'm a freaking lazy girl), but because after I sit for the final, whatever the results are, I will appreciate more my knowledge and my capacity. Amen.

lovely evening

2008-11-25T06:02:00.000-08:00

It's winter. This evening me and my girls (my best friends from high school) went out to have dinner. I was happy to see them again, 'cause we don't see each other that much. And I had a surprise for them: I took with me some of the sweet, crazy letters that they wrote me during our five years together at school. I have them with me just like a priceless treasure, that reflect an unforgetable time of our lives.
So we got to this great place, and I showed them the letters. First, they couldn't believe that I still would have them, and besides they didn't remember most of them, but we agree on reading them afterwards. So we had dinner, all of us taking turns to talk about our present lives: how are we doing at university (or school, in my case), work and how are things going on with our families. And of course, the love part (are we dating someone? How does he look like?, etc) is always a must in our encounters.
So we are having a great time, and after dinner I put the letters on the table, and we start reading. Nadia will be in charge of making the voices and pauses. And we start laughing 'cause this moment really transports us back to high school days. We remember each situation, and in case they don't, I make them remember, 'cause I have read these letters so many times, I know them by heart.
The funniest thing is that while we are reading, a young woman passes by. She looks at us and kind of paralyzes for a second. We look at her as well and realize that this girl also was our classmate in high school (for the record, we hated her!, and she felt the same thing for us) So we start laughing so hard 'cause like Vicky says, it's a flashback!
I'm home now, and I just feel happy. I've seen my best friends in the whole world and once again I had the chance to share a lovely evening with these amazing girls that are so part of ly life.

make good use of time

2008-11-25T05:51:00.000-08:00

The other day our teacher told us about the idea of taking advantage on time, and how is it that different cultures relate to it. He told us that Americans really have an organized life, and they plan everything.
So I was thinking about this. I am an authentic 'hija del rigor'. I don't do things unless it's due for now. And even when I don't always act like this, it happenes to me that I never manage to administrate my time in a clever way. So every month, when I have this work to do at home with my computer, Iwould spend a whole night awake (really awake), 'cause next day I have to present everything.
And the same thing happens with the blog: it's November now, and I'm writing entries like crazy, only because during the whole year I kept putting it off. I wrote many things on paper, but I could have done better and put them in my blog. So you see what an irresponsible lady I am. I had chances of promover Language, but if I don't get the entries and stuff ready, I won't be able to.
Now, why don't we learn, as a society I mean, to use time in a proper way? Why do we always wait till the last minute or to something to happen that wil avoid us to do what we have to do?
We could be much better, couldn't we?

on the bus (with you)

2008-11-25T05:30:00.000-08:00

Today it has been a long day at school. I am tired, 'cause we have been having parciales and stuff, but the day is finally over. So I get on the bus to go home. It's really hot, but the windows are opened and the wind feels awesome. And suddenly, you get in. I mean, you, the boy I'm secretely in love with. You! This can't be good, 'cause every time I see you, I start acting like a complete freak. Anyway, I'll be fine as long as you don't see me. My hands begin sweating, and all of the sudden I'm really cold, like it's freezing. And at some point, you look at me. No! I just look around, like I don't know who you are, and your expression is like: 'oh, no, it's this crazy one!'
So at this moment I think I'd like to put my head in the oven, and that nothing can be worst than having you centimetres away from me, but it does get worse!
Two of my neighbours also get on the bus and the moment they see me, they say hi and start talking to me. I try not to think on you, not even to look at you, but it's like an invisible force that makes me do it.
And I just can't maintein this conversation with them. I'm thinking on someone else. And when I'm back (like back in earth, reality or whatever), I hear: 'are you ok?' And I'm like 'yeah'. But me face, I don't know what it would be like, that they keep asking me if I'm allright.
So I just want to get home, but the trip is endless. And when we do get to our bus stop, I see that he approaches to me, and I think 'oh my God, he's going to talk to me!', but he looks at me like I'm in his way. So I move, all confussed of course, and these ladies that would keep asking me if I feel ok. They don't even know what was going on in my mind during that trip.
And I hope I don't ever see you again, at least on the bus. Situation too dramatic and stressful!

parcial

2008-11-25T05:16:00.000-08:00

We are about to sit for our second language parcial. The other day, our teacher told me to do my best, since I had chances of passing the subject. So I get my seat and my parcial. So far I've been nervous and anxious, and I think it's only natural, and I'll be fine in a few minutes, once the exam has started, but it gets worse when I get to the essay. It'sthe first time that I can't come up with an iddea. I'm frozen and can't think clearly. I look at my classmates and thay are all concentrated, focused on their exam, so I see that it's just me. I would like to get the hell out of here right now, but I have to at least try it. So I stay, and I write what has probably been my worst essay ever. I just write these nonsensical ideas, simply because I can't think of anything intelligent right now.
It's about time, and I give up. I approach to our teacher, embarassed and tell him that I haven't done a good exam, just because I don't want him to read the stupid things I've just written. But I know he will read it, and I'll have to accept that Imade a terrible exam that happened to be the most important. Just like Charlie said, I still have a chance, but the fear is already installed in me.

father

2008-11-24T17:43:00.000-08:00

We are having problems, I know. I know I haven't talked to you in more than two years, but I have my reasons for not doing it: you have hurt me more times than I can imagine. You have humiliate me in front of the family and outsiders, and I don't give a fuck if you did it consiously or not, it hurt anyway, with, or without intention.
Remember when we were kids? We would have a good or bad day pretty much depending on your good or bad day. And mom had to make sure we would behave properly, 'cause if not you would get angry and start swearing. I see my mom now and think: why? Why did she tolerate the things you made her go through? Why did she allow you to be a father in the first place? I'm not saying you have been a monster, 'cause you've never punished us physically, but you have been quite a bastard to us.
And then it's the time when mom had to look for a job, cleaning houses 'cause you couldn't find any job yourself. That year you started treating me worst than ever, yelling at me for no reason, talking shit of my brothers and the rest of my family in my presence, only 'cause you knew I wouldn't dare to make you stop talking. And all that for what? Just to find out, some years later, that you had had your own family once (with a child included in the picture). So, two years ago we met your son , Miguel. I can't believed that he came from Córdoba only to see you, 'cause he missed you! He's a nice guy and everything but he will never know how lucky he was to grow up without you. I know this is a terrible thing to say, but I mean it.
You will never know all the times I locked at the bathroom, crying in silence (so that you wouldn't listen and freak out).
I'm a woman now, and I don't need you, so that's why I stoped talking at you. So that you can't hurt me with your words anymore. I know taht my mom suffers to see that we don't speak to each other, but I really prefer it this way. I'm better not having you in my heart. I'm better off without you.

just laugh at it!

2008-11-24T17:08:00.000-08:00

This is a list of the things that make me laugh at every time I remember them:
- Once I saw a girl on the bus that sliped when she was getting off, but she didn't fall right away: she just stayed there dangling, and the bus driver with this face of: 'stop playing around, I have things to do!'
- When we were kids, my mom and my uncle would leave us in the car for hours on a hot day while they were looking for a present for their niece at the mall. It was boiling like you couldn't believe, and I was ok, but my brother, he just lost it: he would hit at the seat every two minutes, swearing, calling everybody names! And then this phrase: 'I hope uncle Victor doesn't say any jokes, 'cause I'm not in the mood of laughing!'
- Once I got to the butcher's to buy some meat, and while I was coming home I kept playing with the bag till it got broken: all the meat got on the floor, and this huge dog would appear from God knows where, and would eat the meat, just there, in front of me. Imagine my mom's face when I told her!
- We were at the club once, in our PE class, and my friend was walking on the edge of this empty swimming pool. And suddenly she dissapeared. When I looked for her she was at the botton of the pool, and I couldn't help her because I was laughing so hard!
- Another time we were in class, and one of my classmates would throw a ball at the air. Everybody step aside, except my friend (from the pool). The ball hit her right in the forehead!
- This one is awesome: on a Saturday afternoon, we met out godmother (quite a character) at down town, 'cause we had to buy don't remember what. The thing is that she would walk in a strange way, like she wouldn't lift her feet from the ground, and when my mom asked her what was wrong, she said that the shoes she was wearing were too big. The thing is that my brother (from the car) was so angry, 'cause he wanted to go home inmediately, that he started walking behing my godmother, mocking at her. But he wasn't joking, he really wanted to kill her!
- My eldest brother once saw our little brother (from the car) in the street. He had been to work (on a pink bike), and he had a flat tyre. Because the bike had been having the same problem, and also because of my brother's personality, he started kicking at the bike. Right there, in the middle of the street, he killed the poor bike!
So these are just some of the annecdotes that I always remember. They are great stories, at least for me.

the experience of writing

2008-11-24T16:42:00.000-08:00

When last year Mister Lizarraga told us about the blog stuff, he was really exited about the thing, and I was so freaking angry. Like I didn't want to do anything out of the ordinary. You know, books and stuff. But that's just not what he had in mind.
By that time I didn't have Internet at home yet and the idea of going to the stupid cyber and having to actually interact with the guy in charge made me feel crazy.
The good thing is that because I was so messed up, I didn't have to go to the cyber so many times ('cause I didn't go on with the subject). And this year, because I got 'Charlisized' or something, I decided to get the service of Internet at home. And it has been great, 'cause it really gave me the chance to write at the moment I felt like writing. So I've been able to write when I was feeling great, or when I was sad, or angry. It has really had a therapeutic effect on me.
I was able to put on the paper (or screen), what I had in mind at that precise moment.
Last year, I got to know new aspects of myself due to the blog. The problem is that I didn't like at all what I saw inside me, and that, together with the reality af having quite a complicated year, turned into this dangerous cocktail.
But this year has been all right, and I got to accept al least some of the things I discovered last year. Now I know that if I am blue, or depressed, it's ok: no one will die and things will get better at some point. I know I had already written about this idea before, but now I believe myself.
So I look behind now, I compare my last year's entries and I clearly see how much some things have changed.
I'm not going to lie. At the beginning I really didn't like the idea of the blog at all, but once I got acostummed to it, and also once I made friends with tecnology, I was able to enjoy of this creative process.
So Charlie, well done! And thanks!

first day at school

2008-11-24T15:53:00.000-08:00

I woke up today with a scene in my mind. Me, sitting at the back of a big classroom. Now, I don't remember almost anything about my childhood, but I surely, and clearly remember my first day at school. 'Cause you never forget that.
So I'm five again (I won't be six till May). It's really early in the morning and it's cold. I should be feeling tired, 'cause I never wake up so early, but I'm anxious, and scared. In fact, I didn't get any sleep last night. I spent hours rolling over in my bed, wondering what my new classmates would be like (for the record, this was my first year at this school, so I didn't know nobody).
My mom has walked me to school, and I know that she has to leave, but I wait for something to happen at the last minute and prevent her from leaving me there, alone, surrounded by strangers.
But nothing happens, and so my mom kisses me goodbye. She turns around once, and I look at her, like saying: 'mommy, please, don't', but she doesn't notice (does she?).
Anyway, this awful bell that would be part of my following seven years rings for the first time. I look everywhere, like trying to see the panic that I'm experiencing in other faces, but no one seems to notice.
So we get to our classroom. Shit, it's big. Bigger that I thought. As I get into it, I dare to look at some of my classmates. They are all friends, from kindergarten. I will be the only intruder. The good thing is that they are so freaking exited (don't know why) that they lose interest in me after some moments. Now, where am I going to sit? Aha, there's a chair with a desk at the very back of the classroom. Perfect! Till the teacher gets here (it will take her years) I can observe these kids that had turned out to be my classmates (and future friends, at least two of them).
Our teacher arrives (already yelling at us), and with this big, frightening smile, she would go: 'Buenos días, chicos', and then the classic: 'Bue-nos-dí-as-se-ño-ri-ta (whatever). And I realize that I hadn't said anything, so I get the first look of the morning (there will be more) from the teacher.
After I don't know what the hell, we would be asked to work in pairs. Everybody has a partner to work with, except me. So the teacher looks at me. No. Please, no. Don't do that! Don't talk to me! So I instinctively shut my eyes, and when I open them, everyone is looking at me: ...so she will be your new classmate. Her name's Barbara. Now, who wants to work with her?' Do I really have to say that nobody wanted to make group with me? Isn't it obvious?
So the freaking teacher goes: 'well, if don't say anything, I'll tell Barbara to choose a classmate'. WHAT??? Like, you seriously want me to do that? They'll hate me! So I get paralyzed, and in the end she chooses for me. I get to this group of so fashionable girls (yeah, at that age), that would talk to each other all the time about the pencil case that matches with the schoolbag and their eyes, or something.
So we do something, and then it's break time. All right, three more stupid hours here and I'll be free. But what about tomorrow? I don't think I will make it.
So now I know that all my existential problem has always been dued to that first day at school!

did I get better?

2008-11-24T15:29:00.000-08:00

When this year started, I knew I had many things to change. Last year had been such a terrible one, that I didn't even want to try it again. I was really determined not to continue studying, and now I know what a big mistake it would have been, but there were two things that helped me make the right decision.
I said in one opportunity that I had gone to this therapist. I only went there for one session, but when I told her that I wanted to give up for this year, she adviced me to at least go to school and pay for my seat. She said that if I decided in the end not to continue, I wouldn't have lost anything, but if not, if my choice was to stay and fight back my own battles, I would have won.
Another thing that surely helped me was the presence of my friends. I have two groups of friends: one is made by my best three friends, that I know from years ago. So they came to my home, and even when coming back to that afternoon is painful, 'cause I was really messed up, they also suggested that I should try to go on with what had been my dream for the last four years.
And so I decided to try it again, but I still wasn't ready to face my teachers and classmates, I don't know why. So my other friends, from the institute told me what my brain needed to hear in order to react. That I had to go on. There was no other way out. Running away from my problems wouldn't make them vanish, but in the contrary, they would stay for ever.
It's November now. I had had quite a good year, and I have improved my studies. So did I get better? I would say I did. But I didn't do it alone. No way. If it had been for me, I would be locked up at home, or I simply wouldn't be here.
I got help. Help from the people I love, that know me well.
To you guys, thanks a lot. I will never forget what you have done for me, and I hope that some day I will be the confident shoulder you will require, if you ever need one.

it's over!

2008-11-24T14:54:00.000-08:00

Well, I have finally finished my teaching prácticas today. It sure has taken me some time, but in the end I did it.
It hasn't been easy (it's not for anybody), but I was able to control my anxiety and personal fear(always present!). I had started my prácticas last year, but since I got crazy (or stressed out, whatever), I chose to do the second half this year.
And in spite of my fantasies, with annoying, rude students in them that I wouldn't be able to control, I was prized with this beautiful, gifted group of teenagers.
They have been wonderful, not perfect, but perfect to me. Fifteen intelligent adolescents and, as a bonus, a very nice girl from Germany that is visiting our town from whom I learnt quite a good deal of things.
The first classes were the most difficult ones, and I wouldn't sleep at all on the night before going to school, but eventually it got better. I learnt how to work with my voice so that they would listen and pay attention. The kids participated all the time. They were extremely active, and that was a totally unexpected thing for me, especially because last year, the group I had worked with was below the average. I mean, I know well that you can't predict (or pretend, in this country!) the kind of class you are going to deal with, but it was also quite a personal challenge, like facing my own demons or something. I was scared and I was sure it would be the hardest thing to achieve.
But it wasn't at all. The kids did great, and the project I made them work with was enjoyed by all of them.
I was also really lucky, 'cause their classroom teacher, Ms Teresita is a genious. I have learnt hundreds of things during the time I observed her, and while I was in charge as well. She was very helpful, and that is something I'll always be grateful for, 'cause it happens that you may get to a place where the teacher has the incorrect sensation that they are being invaved. I can understand that all of us suffer from self confident from time to time, but it would be awesome if they remembered that they have been in this same position themselves once, and surely did they need someone to support them. Anyway, I hope that if it comes a day that a resident needs to make use of my class, I will remember how frightening it can be to face the students when there is not a nice face at the back of the classroom to show you, even with a little, almost unperceptible smile, that you are doing ok.
So going back to 'my' students, I said goodbye to them this morning. I wanted to say many things but I got nervous as if it was my very first day with them. I also had the chance to tell Ms Teresita that it really has been an honour for me to work with her. And I miss them already!
So I did it. I finished something that had tormented me since last year. This has been a major step on my race to get my degree. And even when I'm not usually my best friend, today I could see that I have done good and that I have put myself nearer to my precious degree and my forthcoming carreer.

winter

2008-11-24T14:28:00.000-08:00

Why is it that everybody hates winter? What's wrong with it anayway? I just love it. I love to go out when I know that there won't be a soul in the street. I like the sensation of the wind hitting my face. I like watching through the window the face on people on winter days: God, they do hate it! They walk quickly, like trying to avoid something, with their arms crossed. I see them and I'm happy, not because most people don't like winter, but because I like to think that I'm the only one that enjoys this beautiful season. Like God has created winter only for me (yes, I do know that I'm not the only one that likes winter, but this is my entry!).
So in days like these I try to go out as much as I can. And when I'm at home I do the things that I enjoy doing, like reading a good book or solving puzzles. Is it boring? Well, it is, but for me it has an indescriptable charm. It really feels as if we were in another planet, just visiting. And most people would look through their own window, waiting, expecting winter to end. So I feel like I want to stay in this place for ever.
When that day comes, and winter says goodbye till next year, I get a little blue, 'cause I know that these last three months have finally completed the cicle.
And then it will be spring. That is a season that I really hate. 'Cause when you are young, no matter what's going on in your life, you have to be happy in spring. It's like a must. And the thing is I'm not happy at all in spring. In fact, I spend three whole months feeling like I just want to put my head in the oven!

You may say: 'well, now you know what it is like when you like a season so much and others hate it'. And you are totally right, except that in winter there are no happy people on tv or magazines trying to convince you to get a cellphone (like that will make you happy!), or girls in perfect bodies saying that it's important to fall in love because 'spring is the time of love'. Please, give me a break. Spring, who the hell needs it? Let's wait for winter.

out of the blue

2008-11-24T08:26:00.000-08:00

I don't want to think today, so I'll just do whatever I have to, without thinking of future consecuencies. Therefore...
I`ll tell you how much I love you, and how much I need you with me.
I'll tell my father that he could have been a much better dad.
I'll tell my friends that I'm sorry for all the times I didn't go out with them.
I'll tell my shrink that this isn't working.
I'll tell my teacher that she is a mediocre professional and an awful human being.
I'll tell my dear uncle that I love him, but I'm up to hear of listening to his uninteresting stories.
I'll tell my eldest brother that he's a horrible father.
I'll tell my mom of my constant nightmares.
I'll tell my little brother that he's killing my mom with he's attitude.
I'll tell the truth and nothing but the truth.
I'll tell her that I know her secret.
I'll tell myself that I'm sorry.
I'll say NO.
I have to do this, and it has to be today. Today is my last chance of taking all this out of my chest, out of my life.

the kingdom without the king

2008-11-24T08:08:00.000-08:00

The big chair is empty for the first time in their history. Everybody is stunned. They can't believe that their king is gone. This wise man that had been always seen as the master and father of all children and grown ups, is no longer with them. No one knows what happened. Different theories are born, as a sutil way of trying to understand what' s been of their loved king.
Just as if was faith, or maybe is on purposse, there is no sun today. Instead, big, grey (almost black) clouds cover the sky. For the first time, the flowers that had coloured the kingdom for a whole life are closed today. Just like they were paying their respects for the death of this unique man.
And they, the people, are afraid, but they won't go anywhere. In the air there is a feeling of unease, of something bad about to happen, but these people are not going nowhere. Loyalty is not business: it's pure, unconditional love.
Tomorrow will be another day. And eventually they will manage to get over it. There will even be a day when the king will not be mentioned any longer. Children will be born and no story of the king's greatness will be told.
The king is somewhere, watching his people. He knows the future. He can tell all the good and bad things people will do now that he's gone. And suddenly, the remorse for having left them comes to his mind, but he soon erases it, for he knows that they will be all right. No one says it will be easy, but tomorrow, they will be all right.
Who would have said that such a glorious man would take into account even the time of departure? That's a man that goes there. Look well for this is your last chance of getting a glimpse of the person that has released you from suffering. Look well, open your eyes, for he's here, among us.
He has already vanished though, but his esence will remain for an eternity.

wanted: someone to love

2008-11-24T07:59:00.001-08:00

A man is required. Should be young, but no exact age is asked for. Sweet, honest, nice and intelligent. Good sense of humour is a must. Should be able to find the positive side of everything. No specific prefered physical references will be needed. Just someone that is alone, eager to love and be loved.
For answers or information for a further interview, link to this post.

what are you looking at?

2008-11-24T06:53:00.000-08:00

I am at San miguel's Institute, the house of fashion and glamour. I have to look for this teacher, and as I'm there, I notice something: wherever I go to, there's a group of people pointing at my everyday outfit and giggling. So the transformation begins...
It has been ten eternal minutes that I've been on this fucking place, and I'm lost, 'cause I can't find (not the teacher, forget the freaking teacher) the exit. I start feeling dizzy, and my hands begin sweating. I know myself well enough to know that these signals can't be good.
I'm in the street now, I still don't know how I got to the right door, but I'm out, so I mentally begin to insult everybody in this damn world: the teacher for not being where she was supossed to be (for the record: 'yes, I'll be there for sure, Barbara'), and then these annoying human beings: why do you think you are so much better than me? You don't even know me, and dare to judge me just on my appereance? How pathetic is that? You freaking morons, bastards that think that because a person doesn't wear the appropiate clothes she is below you. Well, you are wrong, you freaks! Iam a person with feelings. I try to be a better person everyday, and sometimes I even manage to do so, oh but that doesn't prove a damn thing to you. I am different, and that gives you the right to believe that you can tease me and make fun of it just so that you can feel well about yourself. Well, fuck you! I am different, but I have the right to inhabit this place, just as you do. And if you don't like me, if you find me so repulsive, don't fucking look! There, that's a magical solution. I have made my good action of the day by teaching you how to ignore me and continue your happy and shallow existance. Honestly man, go to hell!!!

what therapy is this?

2008-11-24T06:33:00.000-08:00

Forget the shrink. We don't need her. Let's just pretend that you are in front of me, sitting in this chair. So I look at you, and it's show time!
Remember the times I told you I loved you? Well, I lied. Yeah, that's it. I just wanted you to believe that I felt something for you even when I didn't. I cheated on you only to feel good about myself.
You've heard me. I have never loved you! Why would I? Only because you promised me faithful love? Don't think so. You never listened to me. You were never there for me, and I won't forgive you that. I can't let this happen again, so I want to erase you from my mind. And that's why I confess: I hate you!
Wow, this feels good. I haven't felt like this in a long time. Since I've met you, to be more exact. So now you know it. I faked all the time. What are you going to do?: cry, hit me, leave? Do whatever the hell you want, you are nothing to me anymore. You don't belong me and I sure ain't part of you either.
What? Is this too cruel for you? But honey, you set the rules yourself. You gave me hope when you knew damn well how things were going to turn up. Well, with your permission, and if you would excuse me, I'm gonna twist this ending in my benefit. I want to be selfish and I want you to suffer the same things you've put me through.
As you see life isn't fair. Right now I want to hate you so much that I don't ever commit this same stupid mistake. I don't love you anymore. I never have. I've tricked and manipulated you as I wanted.
There, happy now?

my in laws (help!)

2008-11-24T06:02:00.000-08:00

Remember I have written about my family recently? Well, there are certain human beings that are not part of my family or whatsoever, but come home anyway. May I present: my in laws.
My eldest brother Andrés got married once. Because of destiny, or inmaturity, it's the same, he split up with his wife. Then he found another 'lady', Patricia, and things got a little complicated. Apart from these lovely people that we met thanks to Andrés, my nephew and nieces got in the middle. Nowadays, Patricia comes home with my brother, but we are still in close touch with my first sister in law, the mother of my dearest children.
On the other hand, my cousin, Esteban, who I love as if he was a brother, got married to Susana. Susana is... well, she is the kind of person you try to avoid at all costs: always in a fight with someone. Impossible for her to keep a secret And I don't know how, but these peope always manage to find you.
So, I have three sisters in law. I don't like any of them, so I never go to their homes, even if that means stop seeing my brother and cousin. The thing is that they do come to my home. They invade my space constantly. And when they are around, everything gets screwed up: they would talk at each other's back, and then gossip whispering in the kitchen, in my kitchen about the family, as if they had the perfect family (excellent idea for another entry!). Of course, no one sees this. Or if they do, they just ignore it. And maybe I should do the same thing: just pretend they don't exist. But I can't. No Sir, I refuse at the idea of having these poisoning snakes at my house, criticizing my not-at-all-perfect but genuinely sweet family. I mean, who do they think they are? We were doing great until they got to the picture.
Sometimes I think that I shouldn't be angry at these bone heads, but rather at the men that had brought them in the first place (clever move, guys!) You have well chosen (irony).
So that's it with my in laws. You know what the worst thing is? My youngst brother, Damián, is still single, and knowing him as I do I can just predict the kind of woman he's gonna choose for himself (nooooo!!!)

dearest Mom

2008-11-24T05:47:00.000-08:00

I know I have already written about you, but the love I feel for you is so, that I would need three lives to express it entirely.
A new year is coming to its end, and I have been blessed to have you with me again. We have gone through some family issues that have had a negative effect in all the family, but not in you. I mean, I know it touches you too, but you have always been Mom, and that seems to be enough to give you the strenght you need to go on.
We have lost many in the ride, but I still have you. I know, I realize how selfish I am, but I just don't care. I need you with me, now and always. I simply don't work without you.
God is wise, for He knows well that the day I lose you, my life will be meaningless. There will be a huge hole in my soul impossible to cover. The day you are gone, something in me will no longer exist as well. I will stop believing in everything, and I will stay still, waiting for my own time to come.
Please, mom, don't ever leave me. Don't ever walk away without me. I'm useless without you, and your light.
Wherever you go, I'll go. Whatever you need, I'll get it from you, but please, please mom, don't ever leave me. What will I do? Who will I be? My whole identity depends on yours, for I'm just an extention of you.
Please mom, don't ever leave me.

save me, please

2008-11-24T04:43:00.000-08:00

My old demons are back.
Ready to attack me again.
I know I won't be able to fight against them.
They are too many, and are armed.
So please, save me.
Save me from myself.
Save me from giving up.

Once again darkness governs me.
I see nothing.
I hear nothing.
Everything is black,
And the pain is unbearable.
So please, save me
Save me from my ghosts.

It's time to turn around.
For they are gone now.
But the uncertainty remains,
And won't leave in a long time.
Only you can make the pain go away for ever.
So please save me.
Save me from this bitter life.

these are the ones I love

2008-11-24T04:17:00.000-08:00

My family. My big, noisy, annoying family. Everybody going from one place to the other, everybody running to nowhere, wandering, just for the sake of it.
The grown ups with their important, real problems like the unpaid electricity bill, and the kids with their great problems (having lost their favourite crayon, making their mind on if they want an ice cream or a chocolate bar).
The women talking about recipes, clothes, what did they do during the week, how much did their children piss them off. All this while they are in the kitchen, inmersed in flavours and diverse aromas.
And the gentlemen, relaxed, talking about football (their greatest passion). Was it really a penalty? Why did the coach let this useless player be in field in the first place?
Everybody knows what to do. If any man dares to go to the kitchen, he will be looked as an intruder, and gently invited to leave, now!
It's lunchtime. Again, everyone knows what is their position at the table. The children next to their mom, the men sitting together, and the women (these women I love so much!) serving plates with the same love they had prepared the food.
Lunch will be enjoyed. All members of this exclusive clan talking at the same time, nonsensical words, just because they want to express somehow how happy and lucky they are to be together for another Sunday.
I look at them while no one looks at me, and I realize how much I love these people. How well do I know them, and what a huge place do they ocuppy in my heart. My family is my everything, and yes, many times I can't stand them, and yes, many times I get angry 'cause they don't notice I'm talking, but I know that all anger or dissapointment is just temporary. Sooner or later I'll fall in love with them again. My family is my only safe place in the world, where everything is and will be estable.

forget it

2008-11-24T04:01:00.000-08:00

I no longer love you. Loving you has been my most stupid mistake ever. Loving you has been a risky business since day one. And in spite of the multiple warnings, I went on, hurting myself, till I bled.
I despise you. I have no respect for you, and there is a mountain of remorse inside me. Feels like a burden incorporated to my life for an eternity, and all thanks to you. If you didn't love me, why didn't you just say so? I would have understood, you know I would. You know me! I would do anything for you, even giving up for your love. But that wasn't good enough for you. You really wanted me to suffer, and you did.
Are you happy now? Now that you are 'free', you can start living again. But what about me? Don't you care about me even a tiny little bit? I'm suffering here, and you know this well 'cause you see me. I might wear different masks in front of people, but you got to know me, 'cause I allowed you to do so. Ands this is my reward. This is what I get for loving unconditionally some selfish jerk that doesn't care a shit about others.
I can't believe what I have done. I've been so blind! Just tell me why. That's all I ask from you. Tell me why you hated me when I loved you the most. Explain to me what was your plan. What, to make fall in love with you and then, once you done, throw me away like garbage? If taht was your idea, you succeeded.
I have to take you out of my mind. I have to live my own life, and you are no longer in it.

bright colours? eu?

2008-11-24T03:44:00.000-08:00

What a lovely day is today. Yes, it's me, but on a good mood. The sun is shining and I like that sensation. The flowers are more colourful than ever, and besides, I saw you.
Having a good day is not an illusion today, or something I dream about. No, this is real, and it feels just great!
Don't remember that last time I had a nice day, but I do remember clearly how long I've been waiting for it to happen. And the day is finally here. I see colours as if it was the first time! Like a person that sees after a whole life inmersed in blindness. I see bright colours, and I feel my heart living and kicking. What a wonderful, indiscriptible feeling! There's so much I'd like to say, but words wouldn't be good enough. This is something real and unique.
I'd better enjoy till it lasts, 'cause I know that tomorrow darkness will arise again. I know it damn well.
But so what? I have the right to make of this day an unforgetable one. That's why I'm writing it down, so that when sadness takes place in my mind, I'll be able to look at this and remember what it feels like to have a good day. I might need something to remind me that good days are still possible, and they surprise me every now and then.
If I can do it, I will succeed in my mission of extending this beautiful, glorious day for a whole eternity.

nice people every now and then

2008-11-24T02:40:00.000-08:00

The beginning of this year was full of expectations for me: on the one hand, I knew I had to do better that last year if I wanted to get my degree. And on the other hand, I was really nervous about sharing a whole year with paople I didn't know. I had spent thae last four years of my life with the same people. That relationship had had better and not so good moments, but we knew each other, and somehow, there was a familiar sensation. When the year began, I realize missed the guys, but a new challenge was about to start.
I knew that my good pals Caro, Mariam, Juana and Rachel would be within the the same class, but what about the others? My problem (as you must have seen), is that making friends is extremely hard for me. I don't know how to act, so I get away from everybody, till I get the strenght to talk to them.
Well, it's November now, and I have survivied! I shared this 2008 with some great people. The girls are very nice, and of course, we have our man, Tadeo.
So, as everything else, getting to know them has taken me some time. But in the end I was able to know that if my friends weren't there, I was still capable of having a conversation with any of them. I guess it has to do with alouding yourself to let the others pass that gate that you put yourself. I mean, I had my reasons for being like this: over the years, I ran into some people that were not nice to me, just because. But this year was ok. I opened myself a little bit more, and that's growing up. So that's good news.

being boys

2008-11-24T02:12:00.000-08:00

Today at our language class, we had a very interesting discussion on boys: their behaviour, attitide, and some of the hidden reasons of why they do what they do.
Mr Lizarraga and Tadeo (the only two men in the class), said that as a boy, you are not aloud, or supossed, at least, to show your emotions; whether crying, or expressing affection to someone, are seen as weak points in most boys. Who does that is 'not a real man'. So you see how boys share this 'boy code'.
While we were talking, I suddenly remembered Matias. He was a classmate from primary school. He was quite rude, and was the 'macho' of the class. During the seven years I shared the classrrom with him, I never ever saw him acting as nothing but a 'real man' (whatever that means):
However, one day he showed his other self, and it was quite shocking: our English teacher was giving back some important test we had had. Matias was a bad student (studying was not something that boys should do...), and he needed a high grade. Apparentely, he did do his best at this exam, and when he saw that he had failed, Matias lost it: he started crying so hard, he was screaming, actually. His male classmates tried to make him calm, but he wouldn't listen. The boy kept repeating that he deserved a better grade. The worst thing is that our teacher would only say: 'Matias, come on. Boys don't cry!'
So she never said that she was sorry, or that she would explain to him why had she decided to give him that mark, or whatever. Just something that would make him stop crying, but she didn't.
After today's class, I realized what a message do we, as a society, give to our boys and girls: boys can't cry or show weakness. It is assumed that they will missbehave and be the clowns of thatever place and situation. Girls should know this to be 'prepared', and the sooner the better they realize that they are more intelligent than them... So you see how wrong we are, 'cause at the same time, we would like boys and girls to be able to share more in a healthy environment.
So that day was special, but not in a good sense.We (the students) just looked, astonished. This taugh boy that would always tease everybody, was now there, in front of us, like a harmless creature asking for someone to understand him. No one did or said anything, but from that day, Matias was not the same: we was vulnerable now, and everybody took advantage on that (I did too). I hope we had been able to see that signal he was sending: it was totally allright for him to cry. But we didn't, and from that day onwards, Matias was not the same.So I think that's a lesson we should all learn and apply, especially as future teachers. Being a boy is not easy.

sickness

2008-11-23T17:48:00.000-08:00

Remember when you told me that you would never leave?
When you made these fake, empty promises.
I believed you.
I put everything behind for the sake of your love.
And what did I win?
A broken heart that keeps beating automatically.
A misstreated body,
A black soul.
All I wanted was your love.
So tell me, if you have the guts:
What did I do to you?
What terrible sin did I comite?
I only kept in the shadows because you wanted it that way.
And I obeyed. Like an automata.
Like I was blind.
It's been a long time since your departure.
And yet the pain is still the same.
Intense, heavy, unbearable pain.
It won't kill me, I know.
But right now, I'd rather be dead.
Without you, I can't live.
Funny. Without me, you are just doing fine.

give me a break!

2008-11-23T17:19:00.000-08:00

I wonder, when people look at me, do they think: 'poor girl, she's so stupid, let's take advantage on her innocence'? What is it, what every single fucking person wants me to do what they want??? Like these 'modern' parents of some of my students, that pretend me not to teach to anybody else but their perfect, well behaved children, and who, on top of that, advice ME on what to teach to their perfect, well behaved children.

Sometimes I think it's because of my age, though I'm not a child. I'm sure that my biggest problem is my always too much positive and permissive attitude towards parents: 'Don't worry, you can pay me later, like in two or ten months'. 'Don't worry if you bring your child an hour later. I have nothing to do anyway, but waiting.' WHAT THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH ME? No wonder they do whatever the hell they want!
I need to learn for good that I have to give myself the price I deserve I have, and make the others respect it. I am the teacher, I am in charge, right? Yeah, like I'm gonna believe that.
So in the end, my options are: I let people do whatever thay want till I get tired and beat the shit out of them, or I better start placing limits from day one. Easy to say, not so easy to do. It's a process that takes time. Or, if we want to make it simpler, please, if you see me in this corky attitude, would you be so kind to choke me? Not to dead, but maybe, when I am consious again , I might understand what I have to do.

closer than ever

2008-11-23T16:39:00.000-08:00

So, 2008 it is. It's been a long ride for me to get here. I can still remember (unfortunately) 2003: that year I took two subjects that prevented me from finishing high school. I went for a whole year to a school for adults. Four days a week, I would sit in the middle of a bunch of 17 year old kids that didn't care anything about their future. They were SO different from me! I mean, I am different from everybody (not in a good way, precisely), but I really felt out of place there. The only two friends I made in that year were a 27 year old girl (I was 20 by that time) and a 43 single father, Roberto. They were great, but they didn't have to go to school evey day, and many many times I felt lonely. No one would speak to me. And of course, my attitude wasn't the best, either. I remember how much I cried that year. It was taugh.
And yet, somehow, with a lot of help from my mom, I got through the entire year. I passed the subjects with totally unexpected grades. And something began growing on me: little by little, the idea of continuing studying after that year made me dream awake, for the first time in a long time.
Of course, I knew I wouldn't have chances of surviving at the jungle (=university), so that's how I got to Lola Mora. And soon, another journey began.
I made great friends, met fantastic teachers (and not so good ones, as well), and what had started as a shy ilusion of trying to study English turned into passion. I found out how happy I am when teaching, and how unique is the connction that we can establish with our students.
Of course, not everything has been perfect: hidden aspects of my personality I didn't know I had came to light and things got complicated. In fact 2007 was a wasted year.
But we learn. Every time we fall, there are two things we can be sure of: there will always be someone to help us stand up, and we be a little wiser. That's why, in spite of everything, of the dark past and the uncertainty of the future I feel closer than ever.

back home

2008-11-23T16:13:00.000-08:00

The woman was lying in bed. Her nightdress, impecable, as usual. Her long, soft hair fell full of grace, like furious, red waterfalls that gave light to the bedroom in darkness. The day was finally over. She couldn't sleep, so she started listing all the things she had done during the last 24 hours: the house was cleaned, the uniforms ready for the next day, the children were sleeping and had already done their homework. She felt tired but there was something else. This aparentely strong, self confident woman missed her husband. Her every day man, that one that she knew better than herself, had left the city for work. Being alone with two little children was tirying already, but worse was not having anybody to share these moments with. She had never imagined, since the day they met, that they would ever be apart.

Suddenly, the door was opened. There was someone in the room and she didn't notice. The man couldn't see anything, but the natural fragance that this little lady had was enough to guide him. Only when he was too close, almost breathing next to her, did she realize that her dear, loved husband was back. She didn't move right away, though. And the man got worried: could it be she she didn't love him anymore?

The woman, on the other hand, didn't want to move a bit, for she was sure she was dreaming and was afraid of waking up, alone, again.

After eternal moments, Lucy understood that what belonged to her was there, in front of her, asking for a welcome kiss that had been imagined and dreamt of for both, for nights and nights.

Tom smiled, releaved because there was nothing to be afraid of. He was back home. The couple spread out their arms and got one in an endless, warm hug. For Lucy, it really felt as if her Tom had never left their house.

to lie or not to...

2008-11-23T15:50:00.000-08:00

Have you ever heard of white lies? I bet you have. But first, what is to lie anyway? P eople have different theories about the subject, but I think that it's basically to protect ourselves from ourselves. And this concept applies to both, big and 'white' lies.
Think about it: why do with have the necessity of hiding the truth in the first place? Maybe because we don't want to hurt the feelings of the other person. So we mentally say, for exmple: 'I think that my friend is wearing a horrible pink dress, but I love her, and I don't want to make her feel bad, so if she asks me, I'll just say a white lie.'
Now, what would happen if this person was honest and told her friend what she really thinks of the horrible pink dress? Obviously, the mentioned friend would feel sad, or angry, or insulted. To make it short, we do know that this is an expected reaction, so before anything happens, we imagine the situation, and we mentally judge it. And the veredict is that telling a white lie we are protecting our dear friend, and just like I said, we are also protecting us... What a tricky dilemma, hu?
Don't worry, though, 'cause I'm not gonna say that 'we shouldn't lie' just for two simple reasons:
- everybody knows that lying is bad.
- everybody lies!
I'm just writing this down 'cause I want to understand how selfish we are: in the end, it's not that we care that much of the ones that surround us, it's the fact that we don't want to be looked at like damn jerks (even when we do).
As I said it, it's quite a tricky thing. Right?

I'm tired

2008-11-23T11:58:00.000-08:00

Thursday afternoon. Have to go. Look at the clock. Can't do it. Can't breathe. I'd rather stay. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll go
Friday afternoon. same feeling again. Can't make it. Shit! It's this thing again.
Monday morning. Double shit! Can't leave my home. The year is finally coming to its end and this fricking, annoying thing is back. I'm paralyzed. I'm scared to death to leave my house. Have this strong sensation of fear inside me. Something bad will happen. I can feel it; I can sense it. I can clearly see all my old ghosts coming to me. Slowly but effectively they get their places within my mind. The won't go, at least not for now. This isn't simply staying in: it's all it involves. My sad me will once again beat the crap of my happy me, and everybody at home will notice that there's something wrong.
I won't be able to sleep at night (for the record: it's 2.53 am when I'm writing this, at my kitchen, on a piece of paper that seems to have been waiting for me).
I don't get it. Things were ok. I was doing ok. Then why? Why do I keep living this fucking nightmare over and over? What is wrong with me? What's the cure? Hurts like you can't imagine. Feel s like everything is falling apart, just once again.

bad luck

2008-11-23T11:38:00.000-08:00

I haven’t broken any mirror, and I don’t think I could be so important to someone that I would get a spell on me (not that I don’t deserve it!).
All right, I admit it: I do like number 13, oh, and passing down ladders. But so what? That can’t give me all the bad luck I have gotten since I can remember.
Let’s see: I get to a place ( for the record: on time) and the person I’m looking for has just left. My computer collapses on the day I have important work to present. I’m getting to the bus stop and the fricking bus driver deliberately ignores me. I have to go out in my black t-shirt on a 37º day. My dog bites me. The man I’m in love with, well, you know that part...
What else? Every day I have to see these annoying neighbours of mine. I plan to watch a film and the light goes out (typical!). My pen runs out of ink in the middle of an exam. My cellphone, that I hate anyway, falls in water. And so many more things.
Anyway, don't you ever feel that there's something magical behind bad luck? I don't know, maybe is the twisted way in which things turn into a solution. The funny road that problems (or is it us?) choose. The light always present (sharp!) at the end of the tunnel, or whatever you wanna call it. Having bad luck definitely gives you extra points.
I know I always complain about it (the little black cloud on top of us, we call it) but the funny thing is, I kind of enjoy bad luck. Seriously, when things are solved easily, when people are nice to me for no reason, I really miss the hard part. I miss not having to get angry and swear. So what do you think? How crazy am I?

A la Whitman

2008-11-23T11:36:00.000-08:00

Next to me, a silent hero
A couple that has made love for the first time,
Servants, slaves that feel more free than you and I do
A child full of hope. Little body, big eyes,
A doctor with a patient, patiently waiting for a doctor
That will take the pain away
Pain that covers like an unbearable stain
Pain that doesn’t kill
I am the one that embraces all of you
I am who see you outcast, fugitives, warriors
I can see what others miss.
So don’t worry man, woman, child,
For I am the voice, the spirit, the unique Self
Where will you go if not to me?
Where will you be at peace if not next to me?

In the middle of the night I come from darkness,
I live again and I will never die
For as long as you look for me, you’ll find me
I won’t escape ‘cause I’m living the life of others
I am the arquitect I see and I construct
I don’t wait for others and that’s exactly what makes us
So different .
And yet I love you. Oh sweet creature,
So beautiful, full of light music to me laugh, tenderness all in one.
You are the reason, I live through you.

The moon has come at last,
Dripping the cosmos
I am at peace
I feel at peace
Miracles won’t occur. Not tonight
This has nothing to do with God
God is us, and we are Him

Today is the life. Wake up, get up and live
Make the others feel you, kiss you, worship you
‘Bout God ask nothing
Let’s just be at peace.
Oh joy! Life is worth living
Life is revenge revenge of thousands

You

2008-11-23T11:35:00.000-08:00

Even if I could find you, I don’t think I would. This path has only got room for one. Life can be lonely at times. You don’t have to be on your own to feel lonesome. Of course, through life you will get some temporary company. Family, friends, partners, ocassional visitors. All of them may come at once or in a row. It’s the same, though. The end is just one. Someone will pick me up at a time I still don’t know, on a date I ignore. Death will reach m, eventually and I hope to be a point of peace with myself when the moment comes.
Will I still care? Will the eternal ghosts that torment me finally withdraw? What is it needed to be at peace? Eternal peace, I mean. What’s the cost? If you could assure me that there won’t be no pain, I would follow you. No doubt I would. Blind I’d walk behind you. But it’s a fantasy. It’s hopeless to even think about it. I will go on walking through this path. Not ever will I see your face. Night will always be placed over my head, and when death comes, a new day will be born. Angels will tell you that I looked for you everywhere. If you can, if you want, look for me as well. I will be waiting for you.

Moments

2008-11-23T11:34:00.000-08:00

Some things, better not to remember. But they come back. Like they don’t wanna be left behind. Like burdens that stay there, just waiting, just in case. And it’s impossible to try to fool them. They know me more than I do myself.
So what if I let them free? How much will be the damage? No. What I need is to take these moments and make my own way with them. I have to grow up and see, and understand, that everything that happened is in the past now. The only problem is that my past is part of my present.
Have to find some balance. Have to deal with these ghosts. They can’t hurt me, but they do, or is it me? Whatever the case is, I need to see the way out. I ‘m looking for a light that is supossed to be here, but it isn’t. Everything is complicated again. Each day is a wasted opportunity. I have walked so long that I don’t think I can keep doing it. I’m lost, without directions, and without someone to ask for them. These moments torment me like nothing else.
I may decide to run. Maybe speed could leave them backwards. But I’m afraid that if they lose track of me, I may not be the same anymore. So in the end, memories. Shall I leave them? Shall I dare?

Wake me up

2008-11-23T11:31:00.000-08:00

I’m dreaming a dream and you are in it.
I’m loosing my mind and everybody is watching.
People think it’s so funny to see me fall over and over again.
Every single person in this damn room laughs at me.
But you don’t.
You just stare at me, and in your silence I can understand.
You want me to stand up and face the enemy.
You need me to get the strenght to win this battle.
And as I was someone else, as if something magical was running through my body,
I stand up all right.
I look at the eyes of people for the very first time in years.
And I notice, this is not so bad. They are not that scary.
I see that there was nothing to fear in the first place.
This glorious moment of realization feels great.
I am finally powerful.
So I start looking for my mentor. I look for you everywhere.
But you have vanished. There’s no visible sign of you. And I panic.
I panic ‘cause I know that this sudden bravery is for you and only for you.
And now you are gone.
So once again, the dream turns into a nightmare.
And everybody is watching me fall. Again...
Just one thing I need for you. One thing more than anything.
Please, WAKE ME UP.
Please, WAKE ME UP.

Being Left-Handed

2008-08-12T11:05:00.000-07:00

http://www.lefthandersday.com/tour7.html

Vocabulary:
Doeth: choosing a religion.

Personal reaction:
It is still a mistery what is the reason why some people, no matter race, age, ethnicity or social status, would be left-handed. What is a fact is that life is not easy for this world wide minority.
On the Internet there are hundreds of sites and web pages dedicated to left handers. One of them states that different researches have demonstrated the existance of a gene which is believed to “make it possible to have a left-handed child”. Since the human brain works “cross-wired”, it is the right hemisphere (the one that controls music, art, creativity, perception, emotions and genius), the one in direct connection with a left hand dominance. As a consequence, more left-handers work in related fields (architecture, ball sports, etc.).
The article also states that the wrong idea that left handers are not as capable of managing tools as right handed people are is just a myth. Left-handers are “forced to use right handed tools and machinery which is completely back-to-front for them”.
The historical background plays a major role on the issue of left handers: different theories support the idea of an ancient right hand preference (“sun worship” and the believe that since “the heart is on the left hand side, a shield would have to be in the left hand to defend it and any weapon therefore had to be held in the right, which became the dominant hand”. Besides, Christianity is also “based towards the right hand”; on the contrary, “the devil is nearly always portrayed as left handed and evil spirits lurk over the left shoulder”. This last fact dderived on the superstition that “you...should...throw spilled salt over your left shoulder to ward them off”. Even the language categorizes the word left as bad (“being left-out, having two left feet”, etc.).
After setting some interesting facts about left handers (eg: “most left handers draw figures facing to the right”; “there is a high tendency in twins for one to be left handed”, etc.), the article focuses on children, and the everyday difficulties they face for being different. The problems arise when children have to learn “basic skills using the wrong tools”. For worse, even with the appropiate tools, left.handers do not escape from the stereotype of “being slow, awkward and clumsy”.
This article is fascinating, for it clearly and simply explains facts that try to make left handed people – and the rest- more aware of how difficult it is to be a minority, and to use daily tools that are not designed for us. On a personal level, I have never been able to use scissors on a proper way, or to write without smudging the paper. So at least now we know that these problems happen to lots of us (still a minority!).

step one, done!

2008-08-11T14:11:00.000-07:00

Bravo! I have successfully gone through my first observing class this morning. For me this is all an event. I've been so nervous these last days and I know exactly why. Last year, 'bout this time of the year, I had decided to let go my dream of getting my degree. And I just felt terrible. When last month I realized that the time to try it again had come, well, things got bad. I really felt deeply inside that I wouldn't be able to do it. I was scared to death and the fact of forcing myself to ask for schools timetables was a crazy adventure for me. But, as people say, the sun always rises again for all of us, and this time I said to myself that I was compelled to do this, but the good thing was that I could try to enjoy of the process. And so I did. The group is fantastic. There are 14 friendly, easy going, thouthful kids, eager to learn. I know, this was only my first class with them, but it was awesome. I'm looking forward to teach them, 'cause I feel that this experience will strenth all the things that I feel about teaching.
I do realize that there will be not so brillant classes, but this is a challenge that I'm willing to persuit. I have to wrap up some loose concepts, but I think I can do it well. I believe it, damn it!

good enough for you

2008-08-07T15:23:00.000-07:00

It might be that I have the worst day of all.
It is possible that I fell no more chance.
I could walk in darkness, waiting for a signal.
I may choose to give up.
It might seem too difficult to even try.
It is possible that everyone ignores me.
I could hate everything that surrounds me.
I may run till I get lost.
It might look that I cannot fight anymore (and it's true).
It is possible that I feel a complete strange among my dearest ones.
I could easily say NO to everything.
I may no longer see.
It might feel like the end of the world.
It is possible that I fell empty and useless.
I could loose my faith.
I may hate with desperation.
All this represents the worst in me. But something saves me: I'm good enough for you, and that's good enough for me.

I dream a dream

2008-08-07T14:53:00.000-07:00

B:- Where am I?

M:- You're in a dream.

B:- My dream?

M:- No, someone else's.

B:- I wanna go. I don't like it in here.

M:- Don't worry. You'll get used to it.

B:- Get used to what? Who are you?

M:- I don't know who I am, and it's not important either. Besides, I no longer have memories of my past life. My only duty here is to guide you. And the best thing you can do is to accept it.

B:- What are you talking about? I won't stay here.

M:- Yes, you will. There's no way out. You cannot escape from your own thoughts.

B:- And what do you know about that? You don't even know me and I demand you to let me go.

M:- All right, then. Leave.

B:- Yeah, thank you, but how?

M:- You well know how.

B:- No, I don't! Just let me go!

M:- Ok, but first answer this. Do you think you know yourself good enough?

B:- Of course I do!

M:- Then you do know where the exit is.

B:- I don't understand.

M:- I 've told you that these walls that surround us are your thughts. Well, if you know everything about your life, as you claim you do, you won't have any trouble.

B:- But thoughts are completely abstract.

M:- Not in this dream. When you dream, everything gets possible.

B:- Wait, you said that this dream belonged to someone else.

M:- Yes, it's your other you who is having this dream.

B:- So what does she want?

M:- Not much. She just needs you to admit that you're tired and that it's time to surrender.

B:- What happensif I choose not to?

M:- Sooner or later you'll understand that fighting against the inevitable was totally useless.
B:- How do I know that you are not her?
M:- Believe me, I'm just a messenger.

courage is needed

2008-07-30T18:44:00.001-07:00

These are some of the things I should tell you the next time I see you: first of all, I love you, ok? I don`t know why, 'cause I've never had the courage to speak to you properly, but somehow you produce good things on me. I light up whenever I see you (I also get very dumb when you are around, but that's other thing). I get sleep thinking about you, and that is weird, even to someone like me. This love that I feel for you is killing me. I am not able to aproach to you (not in this life), and you don't even know that I exist. Well, here is a clue. It's me, the girl that walks five extra blocks just to avoid you, or the one that doesn't do the shopping anymore, 'cause your house is next to the grocery's. Or that one that asks "casual" questions to her brother about you. It's easy to see how crazy I am since the day I realized that I'm in love with you. Please don't think that I'm gonna call you at 3.00 in the morning to tell you that, or practice black magic just to have you with me. I'm not that insane. But it would be great if you knew that I dream about you constantly. I wish that somehow you could notice me. I wish there was a way. Sometimes at night, I go back to the moments in which I found out something new about you: your name, the football team you support, and some other superficial things that could only matter to a desperate person like me. So, my advice is don't worry about me. Just ignore me, and let me love you. I'll ruin my life, but the good thing is that you don't have to do anything. You don`t even have to pretend that you care about it. Let me be the one who suffers. If someday by any chance you decide to talk to me, I'll probably scream first (please, ignore that), and after I recover I'll be very pleased to talk to you too. Remember that there is a crazy person that feels a hole in her heart that nothing can full. Hope things change for me. I almost forgot: I know the first thing I wrote is that I`ll let you know how I fell about you, but I might not (coward!).

welcome back, Mr. Hyde!

2008-07-29T19:23:00.000-07:00

So it happened again. Things were going well, pretty well I`d say, and just like this, everything got screwed up, again. Last week it was my dear niece`s b-day and we were having a great time, when suddenly, some relatives of those that you see just a couple of times in your life (or less, if you are lucky) decided to show up, unexpectedly, uninvited. I don`t know how the hell they did it, but when I looked again, there were people all around my home, invading it, acting as if they were the owners of the house. I myself felt like a complete stranger at my own fricking house, for God`s sake! I know, I`m overreacting, but that`s how I felt. It`s unfair that I have to hide at my bedroom waiting for them to leave. Of course, there`s no need to say how much of a monster I feel doing that on such a special day, but the truth is I can't help it. My Mr Hyde comes whenever it feels like, and I just witness its destruction. I can only watch what a hideous person I turn into when this beast is released.
I just wish there was a simple and effective way of avoiding this awful sensation. I wish someone had the answer. I don't want to ruin anybody's life. Honestly, I don't. But how do I mend this? I don't think it's even my fault in the first place. Then why should I get responsible for something that also hurts me? A magical answer, please? Don't have it either, hu? Fuck-

miss you

2008-07-29T19:07:00.000-07:00

It was just a moment. A fraction of second in which my heart decided to let you go. I could have said something: I should have stopped you and instead, I remained there, watching, aching, sobbing.And it`s only now that I realize that a part of me has gone with you. Now I can understand how much I love you. Now I regret all those times in which I used to think: there`s time to love you. How stupid I was in letting you go! If I could go back in time, I would hold you so tight, you would never ever ever think about leaving. I miss you terribly. I miss your simple laugh, your innocent eyes and your voice; oh!, that voice that meant the world to me and which was capable of transporting me to a world with no pain and no fear at all. I would give anything to have you back, but at the same time I know that that`s the selfish me. The usual me that gets so nasty trying to get everything. Like I said, deeply in my heart I knew that it was the right thing todo. I guess I didn`t count on how hard the process of letting you go would be. I can feel the pain so real, so frightening, so big. I miss you terribly, sweetheart.

Blue, as dark as possible

2008-06-30T16:05:00.000-07:00

Sunday afternoon. The most depressing moment of the week. Awhole weekend that hasn`t been "used" properly. A whole week to come full of tedious duties: school, work, housework, and the list goes on.
Sunday afternoon. Fricking thoughts that want you to chase them. You just can`t stop thinking, and yet that you would be uncapable of expressing even one of them clearly.
Sunday afternoon. People coming and going in a hurry, as usual. Everybody has something to do. And they talk. The house is the shelter where all those familiar, known voices (their voices) get lost in echoing sounds. No one listens. It doesn`t matter anyway. All the important things have been already said.
Sunday afternoon. Suddenly you wonder: what would be your friends doing right now?; would they also be feeling as blue as you do? There is wind outside. You would go out to feel it in your face, but you are afraid that someone might notice you are here, and then you would have to listen to things that frankly you are not interested at. You should stay here. What is the first thing that comes to your mind at this moment? Different thoughts, all tied up. Try an image. A tree. A majestous tree that has lost all its leaves. Children have climbed it so many times and now it`s ruined. When you think more carefully about it, you fell a little bit like that tree. Someone took away tour youth before time, your strenght and no remains are good enough to start over.
Sunday afternoon. Back to reality. Again, people, voices, and a strong sensation: tears come down your cheeks and you can`t stop them. It would be great to let them be, but someone approaches. You are drawning inside, crying and screaming so loud and so hard, that your throat hurts. But you wipe your face, smile and get ready to show and sell that fake image that everybody buys. Hear that? The tree has just broken down.

Thoughts

2008-06-30T15:33:00.000-07:00

Ther is a big tree from where I can see. I can see everything I want: yellow, happy faces; blue, sad faces; long and short hair; jewellry. I see what the others can`t. I`m invisible and no one realizes. Nobody notices me and that`s good. It`s nice to be a ghost. I think all the time. Think of the past, of the things I should have done. I think of the future and I can see the black clouds that approach dangerously. I don`t want them to touch me, but I know they will, eventualy. At some point, they`ll get me, and by then it won`t matter matter how much I scream and ask for help. It`s useless anyway. Ghosts can`t talk and they can`t be heard. The world will be the same though. Nothing will change. Nobody will know that a ghost is no longer here. and that tree will loose enough leaves to get the attention of another ghost. He will know what to do. He will have the chance that this one never had. And the flowers will be so bright, and the people will be so happy, and shiny and transparent. The day that single ghost comes to that tree, the whole world will be better, and that`s why I`m asking, begging you, don`t force things. Go away and I`ll show you, in the distance, the many good things that are there, hidden from the rest. Everywhere. Please,go. Just leave, and I`ll find you. I promise you I will. I`ll know where you are. I`ll see you again some day. And when I do, I`ll have the courage to demonstrate you that there was something good on me. After all, I`m just a ghost, am I not?

Speaking of terrible days!

2008-06-30T14:52:00.000-07:00

Monday. The worst day of the week. I wake up on my own just to find out that I`m late, `cause during the night the alarm clock was unplugged. I get up as soon as I realize what day is it. 7.03. I still have time. While I`m getting dressed, I draw a mental picture of all the things I need to carry with me: keys, bus ticket, money, watch. I can`t find the bus ticket. I know I had it on my hand just a minute ago. Where is it, for Crhist`s sake? Oh, it`s on the table. I see my puppies and I understand that I must feed them before I leave. I go out with their food, and I see with horror that they have had fun tearing down the today`s newspaper. Bad puppies! My mom`s gonna kill me! OK. Another thing to remember: buy a newspaper. Finally I leave home, and as I`m getting to the bus stop, the fricking bus comes along, completely empty (!) That`s all right, I say to myself. The next one will be here in just 25`... Every single person of my neighbourhood gets on. 7.59. It also seems like the bus driver (who is always on a hurry) has decided today to slow down, and drives as if he was driving the train of the fun fair! At this point I`m hysterical. Oh no! The boy I secretely love has just gotten on. Why is this happening to me? Iget so stupid when he is around... 8.20. Almost getting there. I get of, and I start walking relieved, `cause I still have a chance to be on time. One, two, three steps and I notice something strange. No. Yes. No. Yes! My left shoe has just broken (%&/··$"!!·$%··&&()=) This means swearing. Never mind, I still can do it. Of course, it will take me an hour to walk with that damn shoe, but everything is possible. I get to the place (water!). I`m supposed to look for a person. Her name? I don`t remember it, but what`s the problem? I know exactly where to find her. What? She`s absent? You mean, she didn`t come? Oh. Oh! ($%$&/()=&%$··%&%/(/&%$%) A little bit more of dirty language, suitable for this ocassion. I`ll go home, then. Five more blocks, walking with a shoe that I`m already thinking about throwing to the garbage, and that`ll be it. The time: what do I fricking care about the time? I just wanna get home.
I`m at the bus stop now. Great! A gigantic bee is on my shoulder! Don`t you know, you little maniac that I`m alergic to your poison?Get out, go and disturb somewhere else. Ok, it`s gone. Brilliant, the bus is coming (crowded, of course!). Home, finally! First question of my mom: how did it go? No answer. Second question: what happened to the newspaper? No answer either. I dare to look at the clock. 9.15. I still have to survive almost 15 more hours of this Monday. I hate Mondays, I really do!
* All the events described above are real. Ì know, it`s impossible that someone can have such a bad luck, but it`s real, believe me.

apologise

2008-05-12T18:19:00.000-07:00

hi everyone!I`m back, finally. Now that I`ve got Internet at home, I`ll be INVINCIBLE... just kidding! The truth is that I hadn`t seen my blog since last year and reading what I`ve written so far is quite depressing, to say the least. Last year I was so down that I simply gave up to everything that mattered to me: getting my degree, my teaching practice, doing something for myself, none of that seemed important any longer. I even pushed away my family and my friends, the people that I love the most and who care about me, well, I felt like they were sofocating me, but that wasn`t real. Actually, they were trying to help me and I just couldn`t see that. The pain was so real that all I was focused on was on avoiding people and everyday situations. I was too blind and selfish to notice that help was being delivered constantly.
Instead, I chose to run away, `cause that was the easiest thing to do at the moment. This year I decided to look for professional help, but then I quit (it wouldn`t be me, if not!) It took me just one session to notice that it would be too painful, and I thought that it wasn`t worthtrying. Don`t tell: I screwed it up, didn`t I?
Right now I`m back at school, trying to finish what I`ve started and what meant so much effort. I guess it`s just a matter of time `till I get that "you are such a loser" thing, but I have to go on. Frankly? I don`t feel like. Anyway, if I don`t do it for myself, then I should at least do it for all the people that have always encouraged me. And for those great friends (Kritox, Mariam , Rachel-woman and Monique, among others, I`M SO SORRY, GUYS! Really, I mean it. I blew it up, I know. But my other half is decided to kill me. Don`t worry, though.I`ll go on, I know that.

Personal Reaction:

2007-10-11T14:28:00.000-07:00

“Feeding our students at school is all right, but let`s also teach them so that tomorrow they`ll be able to feed by themselves”. This is one of the quotations that mostly shocked me in the lecture that Doctor Guillermo Jaim Etcheverry gave on Tuesday night. I have to admit that before that presentation I didn`t know anything about him and his work, and yet, the lecture was available for people of all ages, cultural and economical groups. I think that everybody could easily follow his ideas and comments.
As I see it, the use of a story that, just by imaginating is funny and nonsense, was a great way to open his speach. Doctor Etcheverry talked about different aspects of a same problem, and in many ocassions he made the public realize of the bitter reality that we face and, what`s worse, are used to.
Another thing that I really liked were the implementation of studies and their results. When he mentioned them, he didn`t used fancy words, or gave extra information that could make someone get lost. On the contrary, there was also a kind of a summary to simplify what he wanted to say.
Regarding his ideas, I agree with most of them, but I also think that it`s really difficult to apply the traditional methods in order to teach, because, by doing this, we put ourselves against a whole system that doesn`t have the slightlest conviction of doing so. Anyway, that`s the only aspect of his lecture that I found naive and quite difficult to achieve.
The rest of his ideas, though, made me opened my eyes constantly. While I was there I couldn`t help thinking of my 15 year-old niece,who needs me to “explain” to her in a simple language what her zodiac sign is about. That really frightened me. The good news is that Etcheverry gave the audience some tools that, for the time being, I`m eager to apply to my young family members.

Little brother:

2007-10-11T14:27:00.000-07:00

I`ve been thinking a lot about you these days. Lots of memories come to me full of images of both of us. Do you remember those times? We used to play instead of taking a nap. I would tell you silly jokes and you would laugh with heart and soul. Those were magical times, in which I was your heroine, your friend, your partner of adventures. We were inseparable, remember? But then we grew up, and everything got cold and distant. We went through some difficult situations at different levels. I know that the death of our loved aunt stroke and affected you in a way that changed you completely. We were supossed to be together, but we failed at that so much! I know that I should have been there to protect you and tell you that everything would be all right, but instead, I was only worried about mom. I devoted all my time and energy in trying to pull her out of that hole in which she had fallen, and I forgot about you. On top of that, you weren`t helpful either: your actions dissapointed us and we felt that you abbandoned us just when we needed you the most. Inside me, a strong feeling of remorse against you made me change my attitude towards you.
Suddenly, time flew, and all the time I thought I would have to make things better was gone. You are a 22 year-old man, who have changed for good in many aspects but in others not. I wish you were closer to me and mom. We need of your support, and I personaly need of you as my brother. I know for a fact that we`ll never be best friends, and that`s ok with me, but if we could change, if we were just a little bit more flexible with each other...
Yesterday, when I was at home alone, I was thinking of you when the idea that you might hate me made me cry with actual pain in my heart. I know that one of the things that you dislike the most about me is how serious and annoying I can be regarding the housework and other issues. I`m sorry I`m such a pain in the ass, but I can`t help it. You and I see everything with different eyes.
Many times I see you and I have the need to hug you and tell you how much you mean to me, but I`m lack of courage, and I simply stay there.
I really wish things were different between us. If only you knew how much I need you. I wonder, is there still any hope for us? Only God knows.

I wrote these lines perfectly knowing that my brother won`t read them, but I did it anyway `cause I wanted to share all this that I feel with someone.

Complicated people:

2007-10-11T14:25:00.000-07:00

There is a kind of person that scares me. The person who mistreats others, just to feel themselves strong, or intelligent, or superior. People like that make me feel so insecure and weak, that I just try to escape. I`m not interesting in hanging out with people who find shouting at someone amusing. Humilliating others make them believe they are special characters that can`t be judged by anyone, simply because no one will dare... poor little things that go through life lost, inmersed in their own fears and myseries, unable to trust in the person next to them.
All of us have bad days and rough periods, and nobody can say that he/she had successfully avoided them, but there is a huge difference between an isolated situation like that, and making of it a whole habit!
Another thing that I hate is having to comfront them (as a matter of fact, I don`t do it at all, I just run!). In case I don`t have other choice but to stand in front of them, there is always a terrible scenario in my head: I`m very little –almost an insect- and my counterpart huge, monumental, scaring, about to eat me... all I can think of is how long will that torture take, until the “master” decides that he/she is done with me and asks for the next victim. I know what you are thinking and you are right: I have a serious problem with those people.
I wonder, is there any solution for a person like that? What is it that gives them so much power anyway? Is it their position at work or their experience in life that alouds them to behave in that horrible way? Maybe they just do it for the sake of turning other people`s life into a living hell. Well, whatever the secret element is, let`s take it away from them, for they are dangerous. Seriously, the only objective in life of people like these is to to ruin our existance. Let`s get together and do something, for Christ`s sake!

future in the past:

2007-08-14T12:39:00.001-07:00

the other night Iwas listening to my old but loved CD´s when I found one by No Doubt.
I played it and my voice could easily follow the lyrics. thanks to that, I could infer that my memory still works.
one of the songs in the album is called "simple kind of life". it talks about the regrets that singer experiments after a broke up. there is an interesting line there that says: "if we met tomorrow for the very first time, would it start all over again?, would I try to make you mine?"
I kept thinking on that line, and its content. then I sat in silence and I tried to focused on the words. then I arrive to a conclusion: leaving the romantic perspective aside (whici I´m not interested in, today), the issue for me could be: given tha chance to know and see the future, what would be our attitude like?
I mean, day after day we complain of our lives and the pathetic way we live them. how many times have we wished to be able to see the future in order to avoid making mistakes that hurt us and others so much? life would be really easier if we had that precious advantage. but wuold it be better?
the answer is, of course, not only personal but also subjective. on many ocassions the results wolud be so different with that slight but crucial power.
however, there are other times, when it´s nice to see and live every new day as a complete ignorant, finding new paths in the map of life; recognizing new faces among thousands of them; exploring new possibilities in this game called life that can be as safe as dangerous.

winter break

2007-08-14T12:27:00.000-07:00

every time we come back from holidays is that question: "did you enjoy your holidays?". and always the same honest and direct answer: " at least I´ve survived!"
since I can remember, holidays have always been a problem to me I suppose it has to do with all tha extra (too much?) free time that I have, and which I haven´t learnt to deal with.
however, these last holidays have been completely different. I was able to organize my life in a productive way. therefore, I could go on with thew daily house chores (that will never, ever end, by the way), my teaching practice (an amazing experience), and I had time to think.
the good news is that I didn´t think in the same destructive way that I always do: this time I made a supreme and worthtaking effort and, to my delight, I found out that not everything has to be dark and gloomy. but don´t get me wrong, I do like to be dark and gloomy! it´s just that it was nice to realize that if I want to change I can do it .
during these weeks I saw myself bearing in mindthat this could be the appropiate time to do it. a perfect opportunity to discover, evaluate and add new pieces of me.
i´m not gonna say that I´m happy, but at least I´m in peace with myself, and such a sensation cannot be wrong!

Nonsense III

2007-08-14T12:18:00.000-07:00

she forced me to be someone I didn´t want to be. since the day number one, she put me in a situation that didn´t allow me to think clearly. this intruder showed up out of nowhere, and never went away.
even when I refuse to do it, I cannot help seeing her. everywhere I go, this cgharacter is hidden. ready to attack me. ready to use my weakness as her weapon of death.
this is a professional that we are talking about. someone who has forced me to get apart from my family and friends.
she has managed herself to settle distractions araound me. I cannot let her win, but I cannot help it, either.
up to now, I still don´t know, or understand why did I let her in. how could I´ve been so stupid, so naiv and blind not to see what was going on?
I just want this crazy nightmare to end. I want to erase it from earth. will I be able to do it? is just the dessire of something sufficient? I wish I had answers to these questions that never stop. I wish I could.

frustration it is, then

2007-08-14T12:10:00.000-07:00

have you ever experimented frustration? I have, and let me tell you, it´s not nice. when I´m frustrated I feel as if thousands of ghosts came to me laughing, screaming and whisteling a stupid tune. at those ocassions, the only thing I can think of is "I´m not gonna be able to do this, this is too much for me". I always make the biggest effort to scare those evil thoughts away, but it´s never enough... this state of degradation against myself is usually accompained by a stron feeling of guilt and remorse. I don´t know why, but I always commit the same stupid mistake: I don´t aloud myself to feel sad when things don´t turn out as I expect them to be. of course the situation is unbearable, but I think that if I were just a bit more flexible, I wouldn´t take that long in solving the issues that drove to the mentioned problem.
I feel like I´m in a damned maze and I can´t get out. I want to get out, but I just can´t.

he and she

2007-08-14T11:59:00.000-07:00

the woman looked around, looking for an explanation that no one dared to give. at first she thought that it was a nightmare, that the situation was unreal and impossible. but it wasn´t. her husband had benn killed. over his flat chest there was a stain of blood that eventually got bigger. the woman stayed by his side, captured by that shocking image, unable to say a word. her thoughts were coming and going faster than the speed of sound. dizziness took posession of her small body, that now seemed more fragile than ever.
the people around were in silence. each of them thought the same: this was a time to make company, not questions. despite the moment was unbearable, the woman needed that: silence to remember. she has tears on her face. tears that spoke by themselves. this man, her loving husband, the one who had made her happy has gone for ever.
suddenly, the widow made an effort to order her thoughts and ideas, and evoke happier moments. moments that, of course, had to do with her husband. her other half.
slowly, the people began to leave. after a few minutes the only bodies present in that night were he and she.

Nonsense II

2007-08-14T11:54:00.000-07:00

24 years old...scared...lonely...eager to love and be loved...narrow streets...happy people everywhere...faces that don´t look familiar...peace...a tall boy...sad face... wrong feelings...stupid anguish...day after day...sadness....serious emptiness...the same boy again...a waste of time...seduction...a crazy game...I´m lost...mortal devastation...a professional pretender...chronic illness...my heart hurts...black fantasies...faith...eyes full of rage...eyes that judge me...red water...I´m drowning...oh, inevitable and bitter truth... I LOVE YOU.......

Sarah, the queen of wisdom.

2007-08-14T11:27:00.000-07:00

Sarah was confused, if not scared. for years her wisdom had helped people from everywhere. her fame was as big as real. the woman was able to tell people their future just by looking at them, but now, something was wrong. really wrong. Sarah had lost her faith: the weapon with which she helped everybody had gone.
she didn´t know why, or for how long would that terrible sensation stay. one thing was for sure, though; it was akward to tell people to believe and have faith if she herself couldn´t do it.
poor Sarah tried everything to get her faith back. she read the Bible, she prayed, and yet she didn´t manage to solve her problem.
of course, little by little people stopped coming, until one day no one asked Sarah for advice. the old woman got sick and it was obvious that her end was inevitable.
one night, Sarah had a dream: ahe was at the beach, wearing a long white dress. her feet enjoyed the refreshing sensation that only sand gives and her white hair was taken by the soft wind. suddenly, Alah came to her. He was huge: a majestuous and perfect being sorrunded by light.
Sarah stayed still, unable to articulate a word: her Lord was in front of her! finally, the woman was urged to say- I ´ve been looking for you.
- I know it, Sarah- ,was the answer.
she told Alah what was her problem, and the devastating effect that it had had on her life. Alah listened patiently, smiling and nodding ocassionally. when the woman finished explaining her problem, the Lord said: -You haven´t lost your faith, Sarah.
- But my dear Lord, I´m telling you it´s gone!- said the woman with tears on her cheeks.
Alah smiled once more. -Listen to me. your faith has grown inside you since the moment you decided to follow my steps. therefore, it won´t go anywhere, unless...-, he stopped.
-Unless what? asked Sarah.
-Unless you aloud it.
-But that´s impossible! I´d never do that to you my Lord. I mean, an average person, maybe, but me? my wisdom ´d make me realize about my mistake and..
-That´s exactly the problem. don´t you see, woman, that your wisdom has interfired with your faith to the point of diminish it?
remember that you are wise only because you believe in me and as a consecuence have been blessed with this gift.
-But...
-Look. you have spent all your life telling people what to do and giving them advice. Now listen to the advice of this one that is speaking to you: look inside you, for your faith is still there. Hurry up, because it won´t be alive much longert if you don´t find it and heal it. look inside, Sarah, look for your faith.
With those last words the image dissapeared anbd the dream came to its end.
during the followingt weeks her condition was the same, until one day she wake up, feeling better than ever in her life.
eveybody asked Sarah to tell them what had happened, and how did she get better. however, her answer was always the same. -I´ll just tell you that I had to make a long trip, and that in the end I was able to find my priceless treasure.
-What treasure is that?- they would ask.
-A treasure that will never go away again.

released thoughts:

2007-08-14T11:21:00.001-07:00

If I had the courage I would tell you what I feel. I would go to your house, ring the bell and wait for you to come out. I would smile at you, and then I would just say those words that have been in my mind for almost a year: I love you.
I love you more that you can imagine. More than I can tolerate. I deeply love you. I keep a secret with me that I´m dying to make public. N o one knows, but I think of you all the time. my head is full of annoying bees that work all day long wiyhout resting, taking the nectar of love. If I dare to make them go, they´ll be fiurious at me. they´ll throw me stings full of poison. the piposon of love. That sweet poison that I´m used to, and that provokes a slow pain. you are my poison. you are my reason to be alive.

two strangers:

2007-08-14T11:07:00.000-07:00

every day they do the same. they get up, have breakfast, and go to their jobs. He is a lawyer. She is a teacher. By midday both of them are free and could go home, but they create excuses that avoid their coming back. A friend who needs someone to talk to, paper work at the office, the car doesn´t work, etc.
Finally, once thay have made use od that wide range of excuses that each of them hides, they don´t have other choice but to go home. The couple arrive with a difference of some minutes. They look at their faces just once, and they think that will do.
She prepares dinner quickly. the plates are set at the extremes of the long table, and a gigantic and obsene flower pot complements that separation. They have dinner in silence. she knows that in ten minutes he´ll get up and go straight to bed. She´ll take a bit longer. once they are in bed the woman closes her sad eyes and remembers better and distant times. how tender her husband was; the quality of communion and understanding that has been with them for years. Soon she´ll cry, releasing drops of salty flavour that don´t heal anything. Her husband knows it. He feels the same that she does, but he doesn´t want to think about it any longer. He has given up a long time ago.
Their passion is now only a souvenier from happier years when they were a unit. now, the remains of that beautiful relationship are nothing but ashes that flow in the air. It will be a new day soon. a new opportunity they won´t take. A new beginning thast will be thrown away. these two strangers that work as perfect machines have no feelings left, and they know it. What´s worse, they accept their dramatic destiny.

Puppies (a silly, silly poem)

2007-08-14T10:57:00.000-07:00

your arrival was totally unexpected.
a surprise that delighted us.
how not to be happy with 6 lovely dogs!
you recognize my whistle whereever you are
the way you run is a reason to laugh.
you trust me since the beginning.
every day I meet you at the backyard.
I place myself on the floor,
and you look for the protection of my arms.
we play for a while,
until you fall asleep on my arms.
your breath is soft.
your little bodies are so relaxed.
and I wonder: are you dreaming about something?
what is it that you see in your dreams?
coloues, maybe shapes?
but we cannot keep you.
I have to give you away.
I´m already suffering.
I only hope that you find a nice home.
I´ll miss you so much!
little puppies, I love you.
please my dear puppies, don´t forget me.
I won´t forget you. I promise.

Happiness? 1/2 kilo, please.

2007-08-13T17:37:00.000-07:00

Remember I told you about my experience during this last holidays? Well, one of the things I discovered is that I CANNOT PRETEND TO BE HAPPY ALL THE TIME.
How did I grt to this amazing and breathtaking conclusion? Not by myself, as you imagine. I had the chance to read some of Jorge Bucay´s ideas (I told you about him before, remember?). Well, he wrote some tales that had a punctual objective: to make the reader place those stories in their mind and think. And that´s exactly what I did.
I was in the beginnings of my tormentuos teenagehood, when I was invaded for the first time by a feeling of emptiness. I´m sure that it had come before, but now I was conscious of it. I assumed that it would go away eventually, but it didn´t, and I ended up inmersedin the eternal search of happiness.
I wanted to feel happy so much, that it quickly became an obsession. however, I didn´t know (or remember) wht happiness was or felt like. I was only sure of one thing: happiness was represented by all the things that I´m lack of. What a positive thought, ha?
Fortunatelly, I had plenty of time to think and I could clearly see that life, in general terms, is full of good and bad moments, days, phases that will dissapear, and which will be replaced by beter or worse ones. I looked over my shoulder and I see just how pathetic I´ve been, always complaining about my life, always with a hideous "but" at the tip of my tongue...
Luckily, now I´m applying a new and constructive way to see and accept things. Before this I couldn´t appreciate all what I have: a beautiful, big, crazy family; amazing friends who accept me for who I am; the presence of my mom (key element of my existance), and even more.
Ifinally understood that happiness is one of the most subjective things on earth, and that not feeling it all the time doesn´t turn me into a lower human being.
Iwrote this for a number of reasons: I want to share this discovery (that I consider to be very important) that I´ve experienced with the ones who know me and care about me. Part of this transformation is due to my lovely friends and classmates (thank you, guys!).
but I also wrote it because I´m sure that it will come a day, sooner or later, when all this espectacular sensation of selfconfidence will vanish for a while, just because, and new doubts will arise. I just want to be prepare enough to face it and to know that THAT, WILL ALSO GO AWAY.

rage against the machine (hell yeah!)

2007-08-13T17:21:00.000-07:00

come in and see, ladies and gentlemen, you won´t regret it. forget about the old-fashioned circuss with just a few animals, or fun fairs that don´t produce the slightest emotion any longer.
if you are a tourist looking for something new, exciting and, most of all, unique, then Argentina Corporation is your choice.
What can we offer to you? Only the best, or the worst, you choose.
our politicians, for example, have been carefully selected from universities that have the best teachers. these honorable men and women can assure people that things are not getting more and more expensive, that it´s just their imagination. They can also literally tell the police to shoot and kill dangerous teachers who are fighting for their rights.
these "characters" are so wise that they found unusual places where to put the money they earn with so much sacrifice: a bathroom or the trunck of a car are some of them. regarding their transport, it´s nothing less than luxurious: Ferraris and helicopters for special ocassions.
Wait, don´t go yet! Before you throw up out of disgust, let me tell you about our national and most representative sport: FOOTBALL.. We are lucky to have professional footbll players who go to jail full of presents for their favourite "barrabravas". Besides, there are people who are so obssesed with their teams that they organize fights to prove their passion, but don´t worry: if there is a death is only accidental.
So now you know it: if you are a tourist eager to come to our country to show us how to clean a square, don´t miss your chance!
Hurry up! Bying your ticket now you get a hug from the Zar Joey Alperovich for free!!!
For more information, go to http://www.icannotbelievethisf...country.com/, now.

The encounter:

2007-06-05T14:19:00.001-07:00

The door opened slowly. The woman waited under the morning sun patiently, and only dared to give a step when she saw her confidence reflected on her doctor´s eyes. He put his cold hand on Rita´s cheek. This gentile caress made her react. After five years and endless treatments she was about to see the beauty of liberty. Behind her remained all the bad memories and the shadows that put her in that place. Now, Rita was a different woman, and she couldn´t wait to let the world know it. The woman turned around for the last time, just to see the doctor waving at her. Suddenly ahe had a feeling: yes, Lucio was there. She put the small suitcase on the floor and when he approached she spread out eager hands with which she looked for the face of her lover. The one who had stayed by her side during this difficult time. He smiled at her and kissed her lips. First softly, and then full of the passion that only true lovers are able to express. Rita was happy. Now everything would be OK again. There was nothing to fear and she knew it, ´cause that´s what he transmitted through his look. They walked slowly, together, speechless, just smiling, thinking of all the things they haven´t say to each other. For a moment Rita felt an axelaration in her heart, but then she calmed down. There would be enough time to say all what they wanted. Again the beating. On the one hand she was tempted to look back, but on the other she was afraid that this could have been a dream, and that she would wake up in her bedroom, alone. Lucio loved and knew this fragile woman so much that he guessed what she was thinking. He stopped and turned around together with Rita, to prove her taht it was all right. When she did it she saw the old fence closed, and understood that this was real. With a little, almost unhearable sigh she closed this chapter of her life. A chapter in which her tears and suffering had been the perfect soil in which to plant a new tree of hope and love.
Lucio offered her his strong shoulder and Rita put her head on it confidently.

Untitled:

2007-06-05T14:17:00.000-07:00

H: you won´t be able to do it!
S: yes. I will!
H: you´ll chicken out. I know it ´cause I know you well.
S: but you can´t control me. I´m sick of this! This is my life that we´re talking about. I have the right to make my own decisions, so leave me alone!
H: I´ll never leave you alone.we were born together and we´ll die just as one, so you better get used to the idea that I´m the one in charge, and I´m telling you: YOU WON´T DO IT! Besides you don´t even have the guts to leave this room. What? Have you forgotten all the times when you didn´t dare to go out because of me? That proves something, doesn´t it?
S: I don´t care! I know that I can get rid of you and so I will. It´ll be painful, but I will.
H: Try it! I wanna see you trying it. Come on, it´ll be fun. For me!
S: .....
H: and? I´m waiting.
S: .....
H: ha! I knew it! I knew I would win. I always win.

S: SHE
H: HERSELF

Tell me:

2007-06-05T14:16:00.000-07:00

Tell me that what I did was wrong, and I´ll go back in time just to fix it.
Tell me that happiness is at the buttom of the sea, and I´ll jump right away.
Tell me to plant a tree in the middle of the desert, and I´ll be there, day and night, waiting for it to grow.
Tell me to stop it, and I´ll listen to you.
Tell me to climb the highest mountain for you, and next time you see me I´ll be there.
Tell me to be with you, and you´ll see me beside you ´till the last of your days.
Tell me whatever you want and I´ll do it, I´ll believe it. But tell me not to love you anymore and Iwon´t get it. Simple as that; I will not understand it. Please, don´t you ever tell me that. Please.

Nonsense

2007-06-05T14:15:00.000-07:00

I can´t breath..I want to move, but I´m stucked in here. Smile. If you smile no one will notice that you are dying. No, I can´t. I need some air. Oh, great! There´s a window there. Air! But I have to cross the room to get it. OK. this is easy. I know what I´ll do: I´ll count ´till 30. No, wait, 35 is better. One, two, three... oh! He saw you. Smile. Wave your hand. Like that. OK, he´s looking at someone else now. Go on. Where did I stop?did I say two or three? No, this isn´t working. The music is too loud. I can´t think. Oh, God I need air. OK. I got it: if I see 5 guys wearing a black sweater I´ll stand up and leave.let´s see: there´s one there, two more here, four, no wait. That sweater isn´t entirely black. Does it count?no, it doesnt. OK. one, two, three... three... I´m thirsty. Look at this people. How can they be so happy? There´s nothing to be happy about and yet they dance, talk and laugh. It´s a relief that they aren´t paying attention on me. Anyway, I can´t stand up. If I do it, they´ll notice me and the party will be over because of my fault. I don´t want that to happen. I wish I could be invisible, but I´m not. I want to go home. I want to take out this ridiculous outfit. I don´t get it: why did I come in the first place? What for? I´m so stupid!!! I hate this and I can hardly breath. I have to go NOW. Come on, it´ll be easy. We´ll do it together. Ready? OK. just let me count:35, no more than that. One, two, three.......

Me, me, me:

2007-06-05T14:14:00.000-07:00

Hi, my name´s Ana. I´m 23 years old and I share my body with a strange. It´s myself, but it really is a strange to me. Many of the things I´ve written are due to her, and to our constant fights. She has been inside me since I can remember, talking, whispering, ordering me. Most of the times she has been my number one enemy, always willing to make me fall. Well, Ihad fallen too many times and today I´m tired. Really tired. I don´t want to write, to talk, to convince her to go away, not even to think. I want it to be over. I´m incomplete without her, ´cause she´s the BOSS, and I´m so miserable with her, ´cause she rules.
Seriously, I want it to come to an end. And I don´t care if it is a happy one or a tragic one, I just need it to go away. Please, go. Please, go.

It´s a great day (finally!)

2007-06-05T14:12:00.002-07:00

What a lovely day is today. I woke up with the first caresses of the sun on my face, and I got up immediately. The sun´s shining so much that I decided to sit at my backyard while I´m writing these lines. What a great sensation is to feel the power of the sun on your back! A sunny day in Winter is something priceless and each animal, plant and object on earth seems to know it. I look at the plants that are being blessed by the king of the sky. It gives me the impression that they´ll start dancing under the golden rain. And the poor ones which are still in shadows wait impatiently for their turn. Nobody wants to miss the show, not even my dog: she walks in circles, slowly, looking for a good place. Finally she chooses the same that I did. She lays at my feet. I laugh because from time to time she looks above, her eyes closed. It hurts her eyes to see the sun so directly, but I think she can´t help it. Neither can I. I feel tempted and I look at it just once more. After all, who can assure that we´ll have a beautiful day like this soon?
I´m in the house now. The difference of temperature is obvious, but just as a battery I have renewed my energies for the rest of the day. Now I´ll focus on my mom: she´s making breakfast while she whistles an old song. I convince her to go out with me only for a couple of minutes and she accepts. The moment she goes out she hurries to put her laborious hand at her forehead, in order to protect herself from the sun. Once she gets used to it my mom looks at me, smiles and tell me what a good idea would be to have breakfast there.
In a couple of hours the presence of the sun will be nothing but a souvenir. All of us, the plants and flowers, my dog, my mom and me will be looking forward to see it again tomorrow.
Tomorrow there´ll be something new to thank for.

It´s raining:

2007-06-05T14:12:00.001-07:00

Do you like when it rains? I love it. I love the smell of wet land. This is a universal and particular smell that always makes me think the same: I´m sttill in this world.
I don´t know why, but if it rains I have the necessary strength to go out, and I feel safe. Yeah, I know what you are thinking: it´s weird, but what the hell, my whole life is weird!
When it rains I feel the blessing of God over me. I usually llok for any excuse that will allow me to go out and I walk under the rain slowly, without the protection of an umbrella. What do I need one for if I don´t want to prevent water from touching me?
On rainy days my favourite moment of the day is the morning. I wake up earlier than usual and after I´m done with the housework and the homework, I allow myself to enjoy of this wet day. Sometimes I choose a book to read or I take out my old puzzles. Music is another important elemant when it rains.
I know that many people hate rainy days, but I can´t help loving them. Life seems to be so easy when it rains, don´t you think so? I hope that whoever reads this doesn´t some at the conclussion that I´m an idiot. I mean: I am an idiot, but for other reasons, and not for seeing beauty in the rain.

I know it, dear friend:

2007-06-05T14:10:00.000-07:00

When you gave me the news this evening I didn´t say a word. I know that you expected me to say something but I couldn´t. I got home, took a bath and went to bed. I tried to get some sleep, but your face appeared each time. After an hour and useless attempts to fall asleep I decided to get up and go to the living room. There I am now. It´s 3.25 and I´m writing these words ´cause I want them to get out of my head. I wish I could stick them to the paper forever.
I know you are scared and so am I, but quitting is not a good option and you know it well. I understand how tired you are and how insecure this whole situation makes you feel, but if you give up now you´ll live with the guilt for the rest of your life. I know you too good to sense that.
If only I could tell you that everything will be better tomorrow, but I don´t do it ´cause even if I wanted, I cannot promise you things that are out of my reach; out of our reach.
Look, if this is the way you want to end the entire path you have walked so long i´ts fine with me, but what about you? Come on, be honest. You just need to give yourself a second chance to start over. Everyone does it at least once in their lives so prove it you too. What do you have to loose?
Dear friend, I only want you to realize of the big mistake you are committing here. No one said it was going to be easy ´cause it isn´t, but you are not alone. There are many people around you waiting for the opportunity to help you, if you let them...
I´m your friend, I love you and I´m willing to walk along at your side. If you allow me to be there with you I´ll do anything, but please, trust me. we can do it together.
Remember: it´s difficult, not impossible.

Happy weekends:

2007-06-05T14:08:00.000-07:00

At weekends my family multiplies and gets loudly. My nieces and nephew arrive and stay until Monday morning. I try to spend as much time as possible with them.
Sometimes we decide to go down town; the day chosen is usually a Saturday evening. The objective of the visit may be to do the monthly shopping, or just to walk. Now, each f them has a different interest, so I force myself to be fair with the time devoted to each one.
For my nephew, Agustín, “Game Zone” and some shopping windows from the biggest toyshops in Tucumán are enough to make him happy. He pays special attention at some action dolls and explains me how they work. We start walking and he puts his tiny hands on the window, and opens his eyes as if he wanted to save the images in his memory.
My youngest niece loves watching at the gentil living statue or the man who imitates Michael Jackson at the pedestrian area. In a moment Sabrina´ll turn around to ask me who is the guy imitating and I´ll give her the same answer as usual. I must be careful, though, ´cause she always asks for some coins to give them.
My other niece, Andrea, likes the things that all the girls of her age do. That is cellphones, and the “47 street” shop.
You don´t need me to tell you that rarely do we buy some of the things they like so much, they are just great, and accept the limitations that the lack of money generates.
Sundays are lived differently. In most of the occasions we go to the park, especially to the lake area. the passion of Agustín is fishing, so we prepare everything (mate included, of course) and once we are ready the journey begins. We live quite close to the lake so we usually walk. When we got to the place the roles are taken. Everybody knows what to do: the girls put in an strategic location the fabric on which we´ll sit. My mom and I take out the things we have brought and my nephew... is quite busy preparing his fishing line! Now we wre ready to enjoy of the lovely afternoon.. we talk, tell jokes, zip mate and cheer at Agus when he finally catches a fish.
I may be in the middle of a difficult, long week, but I always know that the weekend is near, and that we´ll enjoy it in family.

Fourth year, then what?

2007-06-05T14:07:00.000-07:00

Here I am. Finally the last year has come. Hopefully, in a couple of months I´ll be able to teach, but wii I really be able to teach?
During the last months many things have gone through my mind. I´m at a point where I constantly ask myself questions for which I don´t have the answers, like for example if I chose the right carreer, if my future students will learn something from me, if what I have learnt so far still remains in me, and so on...
Maybe what I feel is a mixture of fears. In the first place my biggest fear is not to be good enough at teaching. In the second place it also worries me not to find a job, and of course, then is the issue of the cruel competence at work!
I don´t know if experimenting this awful sensation is common, but I hate it. I doubt of each thing that I do and it gets worse in the classroom.
The strangest thing that has happened to me lately is that in class I have the strong sensation that I´m dreaming. Now I don´t know if this is so because of tiredness or because I´m all the time focused on what´s coming up soon. Every time I hear the words professionals, degree, or future I feel fear. I had tried to talk about this with my friends, but they are more exited than me about the end of this year. I know, and appreciate their intentions, but I guess I´m waiting for someone to tell me what I don´t dare to say, using the words that I don´t dare to use.
Whatever is the case, I hope it goes away qhickly. If there´s something I´m sure of in this life is my love for teaching.

Faces:

2007-06-05T14:06:00.000-07:00

We look at faces everyday, at all times. I get on the bus and I see them. I get off, and there are some more. The streets are full of anonimous faces. Some are nice, and remind me of someone familiar. Some others just call my attention for no reason, but they make me company until they are gone from my eyes and replaced by new ones. I´m used to see faces, but when I saw yours, I saw something different. Your eyes were brown, wide open and with long eyelashes. Your mouth was a little open, and I think you were singing some melody. You were coming directly to where I was, and suddenly you saw me. I think you smiled and I simply got unable to keep on walking. I knew that you wanted me to move, but I couldn´t, I don´t know why. You put your hand softly on my arm and I reacted. As part of my apologise I smiled too, but I felt a blush on my face and I started to walk quickly, almost running.
I turned around just to see if by any chance you were still looking at me, but you weren´t. In fact, it took me a while to locate you again, this time lost in the middle of the crowd.
Then I understand that I had meant to you the same that all these unfamiliar faces mean to me everyday. I wish you knew that I haven´t forgotten you since. I wish you knew that you are not an anonimous face to me.

Panic (also at the disco!)

2007-06-04T17:24:00.004-07:00

Have you ever felt this? I have. I remember the first time I felt it. Five years ago my friends have decide to go out a lovely evening in Summer. The weather was great and I hadn´t seen them in a while, so I was unxious for our encounter. I got off the bus, trying to organize in my mind all the things I wanted to tell them. As I was walking I started to feel that my legs shaked. I smiled at first for that unusual sensation, but soon it became awful: Ididn´t have control of my body, and I thought that I would faint. I checked my hands and they were very palid, almost white. My heart beated fast, I could hardly breath and I had the impression that all the people in the streets had stopped to see me. I continued walking without knowing exactly where to, and when I got to where my friends were waiting, they looked at me and realized, without much that something wrong has going on. I stutterned an explanation and they helped me sit on a banch. After a couple of minutes it dissapeared and I felt better.
Since then, I have lived again this experience, and I figured out what was about only a couple of years ago.
My mom has asked me many times to describe to her what is it that I feel when I have a panic attack, and I say that I could summarize it in one word: panic. I feel the lost of reality, and the lost of control. Whenever I have this, I want to go home inmediately, ´cause I think that there I´ll be safe. I always tend to look for a familiar face that ´ll soothe me, but it never appears, and so I get worse.
I cannot still understand what is the reason of these attacks, that from time to time get quite severe. I cannot predict where or when or with who I´ll get the symptoms that I´m so afraid of. I can only assure that this problem has made my life more complicated and caotic. Most of the times I think it more than twice before saying “yes” to an invitation to go out. I´m afraid that I´ll have an attack at any moment, and that freakings me out.
Therapy hasn´t been of much help for the time being, but I hope that one day I´ll get rid of this desease that takes control of my life when it shows up. Living like this is not living at all, trust me.

Last night:

2007-06-04T17:24:00.003-07:00

Last night you approached to where I was and just by seeing you all my problems dissapeared. You brought with you a fresh air that stayed with me for hours.
Last night I saw you; you were standing in front of me, with that eternal smile on you: that charming and faithful smile that invites me to tell you anything, knowing that you´ll understand me, and that you wont judge me.
Last night we took a walk, but this time words weren´t necessary. At a point our fingers made contact accidentally and you looked at me. Witha soft gesture you told me it was allright and then you took my hand. I felt that I was in heaven. It was something so intense that I felt happiness for the first time in years. We continued walking a little more until we got to my place. Again, we didn´t say a word. We just looked at each other, helped by the light of a gorgeous moon which acted as witness and accomplise of our encounter.
I could have told you how much I love you, but instead I remained silent. I don´t know if I got scared or if I simply didn´t want to spoil such a magical moment. Last night I understood that there is someone in my life who makes me feel that nothing is impossible , and that happiness is asking to be admited again i want to let it
come in, but... Is this a worthtaking risk? No one can answer me that, of course, so I´ll just follow my instincts and see, ´cause only time´ll say, don´t you think so?

Home:

2007-06-04T17:24:00.002-07:00

There are some material things that I miss from past times, but the one that Imostly miss is my home. Because of economical reasons my family decided that the best thing to do was to rent it and so we did. The people who are living there are very nice and have made some great improvements to the house, but that doesn´t make me feel better. My home has witnessed happy celebrations that brought joy and laugh to the house. In the same way, it has also lived together with us the many defeats that as a family we have under gone.
I always think of my bedroom and all the secrets it hides. That “sanctuary” saw the changes that took place in my life
There I cried for nights thinking of the boy I loved, or of that failure in my exam. In my bedroom I discovered the music that now I simply cannot live without and how it was assimiliated by the walls: first, posters of the Backstreet Boys ( shame on me!!!) which were changed later on by lyrics from The Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Foo Fighters and Nirvana, just to name a couple. One image that strongely remains in my memory is of me and my mom, zipping mate on the floor while we wachted chapters of “El Chavo”. It was in my bedroom that my first niece gave her first steps, with a lovely smile and big, bright eyes.
I also miss my privacy, something that I don´t have at my actual house. if I wanted to be alone for a while I just had to close the door, so as to let my family know that I needed my own space. I think that if I had known that some day I would have to leave my house I would have taken more advantage of all the moments that I lived there. I know that we´ll be able to come again in any moment, but I have lived many intense things these last years, and it would have been nice to live them at home. At my home. At the place where I feel that I should be.
I don´t mean to be ungretful with this new house, that in fact doesn´t have anything of new, for it´s the house of the family ( the big family). The thing is that, even when I get on well with all the ones who live here, I feel out of place most of the time, and that brings sadness.
I´m looking forward to come home and to have a more normal life in it. I cannot talk about this with anyone, not even with my mom, ´cause I don´t want her to worry, besides, this money we get monthly has given us the opportunity to solve many problems we had, but I can´t help feeling incomplete. I really miss home.

Dad´s letter:

2007-06-04T17:24:00.001-07:00

Rebecca had had a bad night. She had dreamed again with that house that frightened her so much, so when she woke up she realized that something bad would happen that day. It was palpable in the air. She went to the kitchen and while she was zipping some coffee, the bell rang. In the mail box, there was a white envelope with her name on it. Now, in other circumstances she would have waited a couple of days to read it, but this time a gut feeling told her to open it inmediately. It was from her father. Rebecca and Daniel ( as she used to call him) had always had a difficult relationship, and for the last three years they haven´t spoken to each other.
The girl sat, made a long and loudly zip of the black drink and started to read. The letter said the following:
“Becca, I don´t know where to start. If you could know that i´ ve been sitting in front of the paper for more tan an hour, just staring ant your name: that beautiful name thot i chose for you when your mom was delivering you. I loved you since the moment your mom told me that a new life was coming to the family. We knew tot you were the last one, so i said to my self that, I´ d take care of you as I hadn´t done it with your brothers. But I was wrong ´cause you were tough, so tough!.
Do you remember that time when we saw the fire works for Christmas ? your brothers were crying and begged me to carry them. And, then I felt a little hand looking for mine: it was you, delighted with the beautiful lights.
I always thought that there´d be a point when you´d fall. It´s not that I wanted you to need me, my child. Maybe that´s the reason why I was so agressive to you; ´cause I hoped to see you cry. You may be thinking what a jurk has my old man been, and probably you´re right. I never understood how to be a good father and I hoped I could learn with you, that you´d teach me how to but I guess you never needed me after all. That´s why I left. I couldn´t help feeling useless all the time. I know that we haven´t spoken in a long while, but I tried. You have to belive me I tried. Now it´s just too late.my life is coming to its end and even though there´s nothing I can do to stop the time I lost, I wrote these words from my heart, just to let you know that I´ve always loved you. Trust me when I said this.
Since the moment I left home there hasn´t been a day in which I didn´t feel regrets for what I did and what I didn´t. I only hope that you can forgiuve your silly old man one day. I prey for that, my little Becca.

Love,
Dad.”
Rebecca read the last lines and by that time her face had adopted a deep expression of sadness and remorse. It took her some minutes to get the strength to look for some paper and a pen. She wrote “Daddy” at the top of the page and her eyes got full of tears. The woman did nothing to stop them and remained in silence, starring at the word she had written for a long while...

Camile:

2007-06-04T17:24:00.000-07:00

The black car approached slowly to the main entrance. The engine stopped and the night captured that last sound to make it dissapear quickly. Camile got off and started to walk. Her steps were short and heavy. After a while she got to the place. In front of her, just a graveyard and a gravestone with the name of a man: Neil Johnson, it said; nothing else.
The young woman, who had stayed calm, suddenly lost control. Her fists were very closed and tears started to go down her palid face. Finally, she began to speak: “ He always lied. From the very first moment he saw me, he decided to make af lyeing a whole art. From the simple, everyday things to the most complex ones he never said the truth. He was delighted by seeing my misery, and yet I loved him! God, how could I´ve been so blind to believe in him?
I knew you were hurting me. I knew I was in constant suffering, but I let and helped you destroy me. You took everything I had and turned it into pieces just to save yourself. You did that disgusnting thing only to prove me that you were tougher, didn´t you? Miserable pig, you took my youth and my dreams. I don´t feel anything now. My existance is sosteined only because of my mechanical breathing and a damm heart that keeps on beating. Why did you hurt me that way? I loved you, I lived through you for years and now that you are finally gone, I just don´t know how to do it without you. All these years I only begged for you to dissapear, but I guess I never realized that my life was embraced by yours.
Anyway it´s all over now. I´ve come here to tell you that I´ll go on. I don´t know how, but I´ll find the strength to live again. I refuse to live in the past any longer. So please, please, let me alone. Go off my dreams, go off my nightmares. I gave you everything I had and more. So please, if you ever felt something for me, let me go. I need to start over on my own. I don´t need you anymore, so goodbye. This is the last time I visit you and I hope you do the same. Bye”.
Camile turned around, whiped her tears and left. She walked slowly again, but now with a different feeling. She had to live again. She had to be back in life.

Practico introduction & conclusion of article II

2007-05-31T09:48:00.000-07:00

This article is completely autobiographic. It was written by a TV journalist from Lithuania who pretended to be a non- speaking man that had no experience and looked for a job. He contacted an employment agency in London and paid a large sum of money to be given a job. Through the article he talks about the journey, his “roommates”, the jobs he did and the payment.

Joining the immigrant underclass

Introduction:
When I arrived in Hull, it was already dark and the streets empty. But there was no-one at the bus station to meet me and it was getting cold. Before leaving Lithuania, I paid £180 for the promise of work with Focus Staff Limited, a licensed employment agency or gang master, at the minimum wage of £5.35 per hour. I'd also had to hand over £160 to CCCP UK Limited - the middlemen in London - so I was getting angry.
Conclusion:
Luckily for me, it was time to leave and reveal to the agencies that this was part of a BBC investigation. Focus Staff, denied having any involvement with CCCP UK, or underpaying workers said workers were treated fairly and in line with UK employment law. CCCP UK and the Lithuanian agency, ITC, also denied any involvement in illegal activity.
The introduction of the article is quite short; the man describes his arrival to the bus station and even when it isn´t very descriptive, he does describe his feelings and his mood (something that is repeated a few times in the text). He also mentions the weather conditions at that moment so this element, together with the ones already mentioned make of this simple introduction an interesting retale, which invites the reader to continue.

The conclusion seems to be part of a report. While the whole text described a strong experience in another country, the last part of it is very unimpersonal: the writer mentions his actions once he revealed his true identity, and the answers he obtained from those agencies.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/6593469.stm#top

practico:introduction & conclusion of articles

2007-05-31T09:43:00.000-07:00

This article is based on the investigation of a news reporter from the BBC, called Rageh Omaar, who was born in the north of Somalia. The aim of Omaar´s investigation was to make a film for the English channel. Through the article the reporter describes the children he interviewed, the reasons why their families sell them, and what are the most common “jobs” these children have.
The world of modern child slavery

Introduction:
Slavery is a word which immediately conjures up very specific images in our minds.
When it is mentioned we tend to think of people, almost always black people; degraded, abused and bound in chains, and we tend to think of such images, and the word slavery itself, as belonging to another era. We do not see slavery as belonging to our world, not as something which is still happening today. Yet the truth is that if William Wilberforce were alive today and he travelled to different parts of the world - not just in Africa, but also in large parts of Asia, the Middle East, South America and even parts of Europe - he would find children living in conditions and circumstances which Wilberforce would understand and which I am sure he would describe as slavery. It is believed there are nearly nine million children around the world today who are enslaved. There are international charters and covenants which try to come to a legal definition of what constitutes slavery. In essence these documents define slavery in the modern world as a situation where a human being and their labour are owned by others, and where that person does not have the freedom to leave and is forced into a life which is exploitative, humiliating and abusive.
Conclusion:
Poverty underlies almost all aspects of the phenomenon of modern child slavery. It is the one issue that most often lies behind the reasons and circumstances they were given up or sold into such conditions. Yet although there has been progress internationally on creating laws and standards aimed at stamping out child slavery, there are still many adults who not only gain from child slavery but believe that they will, in more cases than not, get away with it. Defining what modern slavery is, even finding out the scale of it around the world, is not enough if the practice is not seen to be punished.

In order to introduce the subject of his article, the author appeals to what most of the people in general imagine when they are talked about slavery. The images he makes reference to are many times used by film directors so he counts on our background information to make his statement successful. He also introduces the name of a ----- when he refers to the way in which slavery has spread out, so History is mentioned in a way. The last sentences of the introduction are about how is defined the word slavery now-a-days, and the difficulties that charters and organizations had in order to establish a legal definition to the word itself.
In the conclusion the author recognizes in poverty the most important reason of the selling of children and slavery as its consequence. Therefore he generalizes the main problem of this actual phenomenon. Once again as in his conclusion, Omaar deals with legality, and even though he bounces some positive initiatives from international organizations, he still urges for a quicker and definite solution. While in the introduction of this article slavery is referred to as a word to be defined in legal documents, for the conclusion he takes the same idea, but this time he also evokes to what is to be done in practice in order to stop slavery definitely.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/programmes/this_world/6458377.stm#top

The brave ones:

2007-05-29T14:33:00.000-07:00

Do you know any brave person? I do. I see them everyday. They are part of my crazy but loving family, they are among my dear classmates and they are present among my friends. Today I want to tell you about a special friend. I met her when I was in first year of high school. By that time I was scared to death in such a huge school, full of noisy people all around. By chance I saw her chatting with other girls and I got impressed by the way she was able to maintain a conversation with older girls that she had just met. Anyway, she approached, and we started to talk. We discovered that not only were we classmates but also neighbors. In this way we started a friendship that has undergone a lot.
During the five years we studied at high school, we started a band of folk music and we even performed in different shows!!! I cannot believe I had done that, but I know that I did it because my friend had enough confidence in the two of us. Even when the idea of the band got to an end, my friend continued studying music, in spite of the problems she had: her family was not at its best moment and everything seemed to fall apart in a minute. Now if you think that my friend ran out screaming (as I would have done) you are wrong. She faced her father and defended her mom and her little sister. She was the one who encouraged her mother to fight and not to give up. She was 15 and yet she was a warrior of life already. It is because of her that her family finally saw a light at the end of the tunnel.
Nowadays my best friend is about to obtain her degree, something that she has fought for since the very first moment she went to university. And she also found love! She finally found what she had looked for without knowing. It came by chance, and I think it came to stay. I don´t know what people might thing about her choice and I don´t care either. She looks great. And her smile is back in her. Back like in the old good times.
My dear friend, if you ever read this, I just want you to know how much you mean for me. I saw you the other day and I meant to tell it to you face to face but, well, you know me. What matters is that I´ll ALWAYS be there for you when you need it. You deserve everything you have earned and you know it. If there´s someone on earth that has to be happy is you. I wish you the best and I thank God for having known you. I hope this friendship that has lived for 12 years stay fore ever. I love you girl!

Passion: Teaching:

2007-05-29T14:32:00.000-07:00

If I look backwards in my life, images appear automatically. But not ordinary images; images of myself teaching. When I was a child, I used to play to be the teacher of my youngest brother. He would sit with some sheets of paper in front of him and some pencils and I would be the teacher (of course!). i´d give him the instructions of the different exercises he hed to do. My favourite part was the correction of the test. I felt so important! And, if my brother was tired or simply not interested in playing with me it didn´t matter, ´cause I had my teddy bears to play with.
But that was childhood, though. High school came, and for a short while I forgot about my favourite game, until it came back with an unusual strength. This time I had included the best characteristics of my favourite teachers at school and I applied them as if they were mine. Therefore, I was a kind treacher who treated her students with the respect teenagers deserve. I also had a great sense of humour and was able to convince my “students” that life is hard, but also worthliving.
Now that I think of that, it´s obvious that during high school I had met and started to enjoy my passion for teaching; the one thing that made me feel special, even when I didn´t have anyone to prove it to. I just realized that I wanted and needed to teach. Teach what? That problem would be solved later on, I said to myself.
Time passed, and I found the “what”. I think it came to me more as the result of an inner process than as a revelation, but it came anyway. The only thing I´m sure of is that I had all my life felt the desire and the urge to transmit knowledge to people.
Now that I´m taking the last steps of this walk, I can say that for me teaching is a basic, pure and important ingredient of my life. I love teaching. It´s something I was meant to from the first time and I don´t want it to stop. Quite the contrary, I want it to get as big as possible.
Teaching is my passion.

My mom:

2007-05-29T14:30:00.000-07:00

My mom is, to many people a simple woman but to me she represents the biggest blessing God had ever given me. She is sweet, tender, caring, humble, unique and fragile. It is as if she was a mixture of personalities that combine in one.
My mom has been there for me since I can remember. We have a close relationship based in the principles of respect, trust and sharing. Many times we don´t even have the need to speak, for which one look full of complicity is enough to communicate. We hardly ever argue but if we do, it takes us some days to accept that we were wrong. And maybe that´s another feature of our relationship: we share the same passion for both loving and being upset. What amazes me the most is that she provides of love to everyone who needs it, and yet she doesn´t ask for anything in return.
My mom has a hypnotic power on people. She has lived 65 long years and you can still easily see the lightening in her eyes. The lines of expression on her face are evidence enough of what she had gone through: nothing has been denied to her; not the good parts, or the bad ones. And if there is something that all of them had taught my mom is that there´s always a tomorrow; that the sun will rise again sooner or later, and that we must be there to see it.
I don´t even want to think what will be like not having her. I can only assure that the day she lives me will be the day in which a part of me will die too.
There´s nothing I can do to retain her, so my last attempt will be to love her and take care of her as if it wasn´t tomorrow.

My favourite singer as a child:

2007-05-29T14:28:00.000-07:00

When I was 10 years old I listened for the first time a song by Michael Bolton. On those days my mind was so altered that I could easily predict that a difficult phase in my life was approaching: teenage hood. Of course, with such an uncontrolled revolution inside me there were few moments of internal peace and joy. Moments that always came to me together with Bolton´s music.
By that time I had already listened to different artists in English but none of them had had that effect on me. I think his music is a perfect combination of power and sweetness; the final product of a process that, in his own words, has always been natural. And I think it´s true: there´s something magical but at the same time tangible and palpable in all his songs. Furthermore, his voice is unique: it´s sweet and rough at the same time, something that complements perfectly with the band that accompanies him.
Even though teenage hood is over (thank God), I still listen a lot to Michael Bolton. Every time I do it I figure out something new, something I didn´t realize before. I know that everyone has something that remains them their past, and I have his music.

Lonely days:

2007-05-29T14:26:00.000-07:00

Lonely days visit me from time to time. They show up unexpectedly and stay. They just stay. It may seem difficult to believe but lonely days are not a problem to me.
During those days I try to connect with myself. I listen to some good music and I think. In lonely days I think a lot. Think of things I didn´t have the courage to do; words I didn’t dare to pronounce; people I didn´t want to talk to...
Lonely days make me realize of the good things I had been able to achieve recently. This is a unique time when I like me and when I convince myself that a radical change in life is still possible. I get so freaking positive in lonely days that it frightens me! And I also try to take advantage of them because I know that in any minute they´ll go away, taking with them the good things that I’m normally lack of. When my lonely days are gone, shadows come back. Everything gets so dark and thinking turns into something so heavy, that I loose all hope again. Once these beautiful lonely days abandon me I go backwards in time, trying to pick up the pieces of a puzzle too large to complete. It´s funny that I remember the exact words that went through my mind the day before: words that promised so much and that now are nothing else but empty boxes within my brain; dreams that looked so meaningful and which now are nonsensical nightmares that won´t let me wake up.
I need my lonely days back. I´m looking forward to have them with me again. Maybe this time it´ll be different, who knows? Maybe this time they´ll stay forever.

It hurts:

2007-05-29T14:24:00.000-07:00

It hurts when you decide if I´ll have the strength to do something or not.
It hurts when your mouth says one thing and your eyes something different.
It hurts when your “good action of the day” is to humilliate me.
It hurts when you ignore my suffering.
It hurts when you enjoy seeing me bleed.
It hurts when you put people against me.
It hurts when you choose to be my eneny, knowing well that being my friend is so much easier.
It hurts when you don´t respect my times.
It hurts when you leave me.
It hurts when you overprotect me.
It hurts when you don´t let me be me.
You are my other side and I know I must learn to deal with you and to accept taht we´ll always be together. But sometimes I just can´t stand you. I don´t want to fuight against you. I do it evry single day of my life and I´m tired. Tired of letting you win;tired of letting you decide over me.
I don´t want to hate you, but sometimes...
I don´t want to kill you, but sometimes... It hurts.

Big Brother vs. society?

2007-05-29T14:23:00.000-07:00

Through the last couple of months I´ve seen and read information, opinios, critics and demonstrations of hatrade towards the reality show “Big Brother”. I´ve witnessed furious confrontations between people who devote their existance to the show, and others in which they don´t even known who the hell Osito is (capital sin!).
The truth is that no matter if we like it or not, this television programme has openned a couple of doors (that will remain open), and which lead to a key question: do we really think we´re better than those guys?
Let´s face it: we, the great Argentinians cannot accept anything less than being simply the best. And we count on our ego to prove it to the world. Yeah, you know what I´m tsaking about, don´t you? It´s that little man or woman that exists in each of us and that threatenes us from time to time with growing out of proportions...
So, under these circumstances, how will we ever assume that those kids are a free sample or what our society looks like in general terms? I accept that a lot of people don´t like it; I myself think the show is useless, but it isn´t much worsethan promising speeches in lips of our polititians, or professional footbellers who visit murderers in jail.
Maybe we thought that these guys on the show would be part of a brilliant generation that seeks for a serious commitment with our nation... that, in other words, their presence on televisiton wouldn´t be a shame fopr us. Well. I guess we were wrong. But this is just entertainment;part of a show; the living proof that many people want to become famous skipping, if possible, the hardships. It´s obvious that none of them is expected to be awarded with a Nobel Prize, but in the end that´s their choice. And our choice is to change the channel if we don´t like what we are watching. Simple as that.
I think generalizations and stereotypes are not only hideous but also nonsense. The power of changing this present society is not in the hands of 17 people locked in, but in us, the ones who are outside and still can recognize flows.
(revised text)

Letter to a stranger

2007-05-04T07:29:00.000-07:00

I saw you today as I usually do, but there was something different this time. You looked at me for a few seconds and I noticed your lovely and pure eyes. I couldn`t take my eyes away from yours; I felt hooked and overwhelmed by this feeling that you provoke and feed on me.
But suddenly I remembered that you are not suppossed to know my feelings for you; my love for you.
God, when is this nightmare going to stop? I wish I could get rid of you in my heart, in my poor heart. These words come out from me, and I simply can`t stop them. They write by themselves and warn me to let them go, `cause if I don`t, they`ll burn me out. They`ll hurt me badly and I`ve suffered a lot already. But at the same time I tell myself that falling in love with you has brought me back to life.
Will I ever be able to tell you how I feel? Will I ever have the courage and the strengh to face my fears? I know that there`s planty of you that I ignore, and I also know that this feeling, although strong, lacks of a fear base, but I don`t know how to convince my heart not to love you. I have tried, believe me I have, but it`s not willing to hear any reasons; it prefers to live in ignorance and darkness but with hope only.
The only thing the rest of me can do is to walk along with my heart and trust in its instincts. I love you, I really do!!!

Images

2007-05-04T07:15:00.000-07:00

All of us keep images in our minds that remain like priceless treasures, and that from timt to time appear again and bring with them a vast amount of feelings and sensations.
For me it`s enough to read a word or to smell something in particular and that evokes a determined image. What I don`t know quite well is the effect that old images have on people. For instance, whenever I remember something, it doesn`t matter whether the picture is a happy and colourful one, once it`s over, I always experiment a strong sensation of remorse and regret. Now the funny (or ironic) thing is that many times I surprise finding myself looking for those souvenirs from the past intentionally.
It is as if my heart were too busy -or not interested- to hear mymind`s warning not to go to that place. Family members, friends, a particular face, a scene on a movie or even a gesture provoke on me a diverse rain of sequences that each time leaves a different message.
Even when I can`t predict the moment in which the past will be back for some moments (so as tobe more or less prepared), I have a mixture of nostalgia and relief all in one. I do know it`s a contradistion on otself, but those are the moments in which I realize that I`m still able to project memories from my past in order to understand my present and build my future.

Retales to Demiàn

2007-04-28T17:21:00.000-07:00

During the summer I had the opportunity to read a book by Jorge Bucay called "Recuentos para Demiàn". It`s full of stories, annecdotes, jokes and tales, which belong to different backgrounds and cultures and in some cases they are the result of the author`s own imagination. In order to give to all this material a proper context, at the beginning and end of each chapter there is always an exchange of ideas and concepts between the therapist and the patient (Demiàn).
I was hooked by the book since the first page. I practicelly didn`t know anything about Bucay`s therepeutic methods or techniques, so I was surprised (and delighted) to discover that the format of the book wasn`t pure coincidence or just a literary divice, but the way in which the author daily works with his patients.
Demiàn is the character that I liked the most and felt identyfied with. The therapist, on the other hand, is not always easy to follow. He has a sort of code that, even though it doesn`t have anything to do with scientific terminology, it does say a lot. That`s when Demiàn, the esceptic but also innocent patient gets his own conclusions.
I`ve always been interested in psychology, and despite I know that many people don`t believe in them, I do think that they are especially trainned yo be the shoulder that evereyone needs aside from time to time.
In the case of the book, is the professional the one that gives rythm and pace to each session. Demiàn takes his time, but in the end he`s usually able to prove to Jorge -and to himself- that he has learnt something new. And that`s precisely the sensation I experimented trough the book: a sensation of constant growth.
Nevertheless, not everything is perfect; there werw fragments in which Demiàn felt frustrated, and so did I, but I think it`s the kind of frustration that in a way or the other oblishes the you to get over and go on.
Ireally enjoyed reading this whole book that I found so refreshing and I`m looking forward to read something else about Bucay.

How is like to loose a person:

2007-04-24T08:26:00.000-07:00

There used to be a person in my life who defined herself as a warrior, and so she was. during her entire life her main purpode wae to love, help and support all the ones who were around her. She had many friends that discovered in her a simple but complete, honest person. For me she was the ultimate person I wanted to be like. She was my friend and in many ocassions my guide too.
This person, my aunt, who had fought in different battles had one left to go through; this was her personal confrontation against cancer.
Since the very moment we found out what was happening to her, we turned into completely different people. We would constantly move around her like ghosts, trying to deliver encouriging messages that sounded (and felt) like ice when they were produced. On those ocassions she was the one who ended up conforting ue. When it became obvious that the end was close and it was inevitable, my aunt was exausted. Now I clearly see that dhe had understood a long time before we did, that denying was much worsetahn accepting.
In the end cancer won; my aunt left us a cold morning in October, 13 years ago. I still remember her last moments alive. She couldn´t open her eyes and I would dare to day that she wasn´t with us any longer. I guess she was making a last trip, visiting faces and places. There was a final moment when she led out a deep sigh and we understood: my aunt had just left this world after 57 years. Even when life had taken away her chances of having children, I know, I feel that her legacy will always be present an all of us: her family.