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.
Tuesday, 29 May 2007
My favourite singer as a child:
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.
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:
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.
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:
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.
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?
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)
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)
Friday, 4 May 2007
Letter to a stranger
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!!!
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
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.
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.
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