Life, The Universe and Everything

tick tick tick

2010-08-30T03:00:00.002+02:00

the grains that softly trickle down

forget what they remind us of

and often we must comprehend

what's passed and not to come

for in those grains that now hold still

our memories survive

their voices slowly fade in time

as they now underlie

the images so vivid now

so precious to us all

and yet if once we may recall

the sound of those first grains of sand

that fell on empty ground

reverberated ever so

for they began the mound

so watch them fall and pile away

but never be deceived

for those you see that shine so bright

will promptly cease to glint

and once their luster lies in deep

and once their voices mute

do not believe they are no more

for they make up your core

Carpe Vida....what if...

2010-01-07T00:53:00.003+01:00

I just finished watching an episode of a TV show I like. In this episode the characters examine their lives in perspective after a plane crash, and stop to consider the choices they made and where they led them. Today has been an ordinary day for me, no major events, no shocks, no plane crashes, but as I sat and watched these characters' actions, I also took a step back and wondered "what if I hadn't taken the path I did?"

I know it's useless to look back and question the choices we made, but I do think it's wise to be thankful for what we have and acknowledge the fact that, call it fate, luck or free will, those choices led us to this point in our lives. I know it's cliché, and that it's been used in virtually any movie with scenes including flashbacks to a specific point where a character accidentally bumps into someone and that affects the ending, but there is some truth to that sequence.

I began to think, what if I hadn't shown up that day? What if I had backed off? What if I hadn't trusted you? What if I had never dumped my ex? What if the guy I fell for hadn't rejected me? What if I had just clicked "exit" and moved on?

All I know is I'll never be able to say how thankful I for the choices I made.

It's all new

2009-12-24T00:44:00.003+01:00

It's new for both of us

So we should both budge

Loco por ti - los temerarios

Aunque a veces discutimos
Por simples tonterías
Y admito que hay momentos que odio tus manías y yo
Sigo loco por ti
Muchas veces tu carácter también me desespera
Me enoja y de nuevo lo que la niña quiera y yo sigo loco por ti
Sigo loco loco loco loco loco loco loco loco
Loco loco loco loco loco loco
Por tu amor

Loco por tu boca, tu pelo, tus ojos de cielo tu risa, tu encanto
porque te amo tanto
Loco porque nadie más me interesa
Me vuelves loco de pies a cabeza si sigo loco por ti…
Loco por ti….

Aunque a veces se me pase decirte lo que siento
Tu sabes que en el mundo a nadie mas prefiero yo sigo loco por ti

Sigo loco loco loco loco loco loco loco loco
Loco loco loco loco loco loco
Por tu amor

Loco por tu boca, tu pelo, tus ojos de cielo tu risa, tu encanto
porque te amo tanto
Loco porque nadie más me interesa
Me vuelves loco de pies a cabeza si sigo loco por ti…
Loco por ti…loco por ti

Sigo loco loco loco loco loco loco loco
Loco loco loco loco loco loco loco
Por tu amor… por tu amor

Loco por tu boca, tu pelo, tus ojos de cielo tu risa, tu encanto
porque te amo tanto
Loco porque nadie más me interesa
Me vuelves loco de pies a cabeza loco por ti…
Loco por tu boca, tu pelo, tus ojos de cielo tu risa, tu encanto
porque te amo tanto
Loco porque nadie más me interesa
Me vuelves loco de pies a cabeza si sigo
loco por ti…

2009-12-24T00:19:00.003+01:00

Has all work and no play made me a dull boy?

Why am I always the cautious one? I risk, but only so much.

Why are you always the rash one? You never blink as you lunge head-first

What's more, your blindness has led you to think you'll always hit the jackpot.

Why do I indulge you in your fantasy?

The worst part is this hatred comes from love.

It comes from trust and thinking you know better...

Why isn't it ever enough?

Funny I'm the one with a guilty conscience

And so...

2009-12-07T00:20:00.003+01:00

I guess the hard part isn't finding out the solution to a problem, but rather carrying that solution out. I've never believed in patience, but I'm going to have to learn...

I think I made myself clear, I really hope so.

Now it's all up to you, so be careful...

Our song never seemed more appropriate

Quizá no fue coincidencia encontrarme contigo,
Tal vez esto lo hizo el destino.
Quiero dormirme de nuevo en tu pecho
Y después me despierten tus besos.

Tu sexto sentido sueña conmigo
Se que pronto estaremos unidos.
Esa sonrisa traviesa que vive conmigo
Se que pronto estaré en tu camino.

Sabes q estoy colgando en tus manos
Así q no me dejes caer
Sabes que estoy colgando en tus manos.

Te envió poemas de mi puño y letra
Te envió canciones de 4.40
Te envió las fotos cenando en marbella
Y cuando estuvimos por Venezuela
Y así me recuerdes y tengas presente
Que mi corazón esta colgando en tus manos
Cuidado, cuidado que mi corazón esta colgando en tus manos.

No perderé la esperanza de hablar contigo,
No me importa que dice el destino.
Quiero tener tu fragancia conmigo,
Y beberme de ti lo prohibido.

Sabes q estoy colgando en tus manos
Así q no me dejes caer
Sabes que estoy colgando en tus manos.

Te envió poemas de mi puño y letra
Te envió canciones de 4.40
Te envió las fotos cenando en marbella
Y cuando estuvimos por Venezuela
Y así me recuerdes y tengas presente
Que mi corazón esta colgando en tus manos
Cuidado, cuidado que mi corazón esta colgando en tus manos.

Cuidado, cuidado mucho cuidado, cuidado
No perdere la esperanza de estar contigo
Cuidado mucho cuidado
Quiero beberme de ti todo lo prohibido
Cuidado mucho cuidado
Quiero amanecer besando toda…
Toda tu ternura mi niña mi vida te necesito

Te envió poemas de mi puño y letra
Te envió canciones de 4.40
Te envió las fotos cenando en marbella
Y cuando estuvimos por Venezuela
Y así me recuerdes y tengas presente
Que mi corazón esta colgando en tus manos
Cuidado, cuidado que mi corazón esta colgando en tus manos.

doubt

2009-11-16T20:48:00.001+01:00

I'm genuinely terrified. My heart starts pounding and I'm short of breath. A flash of horror that creeps up on me when I least expect it. Although I told myself it was nothing, I saw it, and I can't pretend it never happened. You came out smiling, kissed me on the lips and told me everything was alright, I smiled and told myself everything was, indeed, alright....I didn't believe you or myself.

Regardless of how paranoid I sound, I do trust you, but I can't reconcile the two very different people that live inside you, and I know I should be able to but every time I try my stomach knots up and I crawl into a corner, hoping you'll pick me up, hug me and tell me everything's all right until I actually believe it for a while.

I want you to be free, I want you to achieve your happiness through that freedom and watch you as you thrive, laughing and smiling all the way. I want you to be You. But, does that imply that I can no longer be myself? At what point does flexibility turn into the erosion of my own values, those in which I pride myself and hold dear to my heart. I watch you on the edge, giggling as you tiptoe, your feet losing grasp and watching tiny pebbles fall into the abyss. You're not alone, you're surrounded by a lot of people that cheer you on, it's a party; matter of fact, I'm the only one standing safely inland. I can picture the scene from Annie Dillard's “An Expedition to the Pole”, polar bears dancing with clowns: music, laughter, a frenzy of madness as you jump blindly from iceberg to iceberg, not realizing the ice might just break under your feet, but rather laughing as you slip and slide all the way across the ice. What you don't seem to notice is the rope attached to both our waists. I don't want to pull you in, you seem happy, but if you fall you'll drag me with you or force me to cut you loose. The question that keeps me up at night is which would happen....could I ever cut you loose?

I try to scream but my lungs just won't do it, I know I should scream, I know I should just let it out even if that means the whole party just comes to a crashing stop like those bands that go horribly wrong and end on the wrong chord. And yet, I don't...I don't want to be the one that wipes the smile off your face, I don't want to be that person.

You make me happy, you make me smile, you make my eyes shine and my heart skip a beat...but am I just living in blissful ignorance? Do I know what lies under the soothing beats that lull me to sleep as I put my head on your chest? I really hope I do. I know I do, I know you to be gentle, smart, funny, considerate, fair and objective, but your Mr. Hyde haunts me. I still don't know if mine hasn't come out yet or if it has simply taken on a form of restraint and criticism towards others, rotting my skin from the inside.

I want to get to the point where I know you're better than those that surround you, where my trust is stronger than any situation, where doubt is not an issue...I know I'll never get there...I know it's a risk I have to take, but the possible outcomes paralyze me with fear. Perhaps fear of the unknown, but fear nonetheless.

You took a risk with me....is this the same? I always believed I could ask nothing else of you, and I still don't know if I would be asking you for your sake or for mine....I really think it's for ours, even if that may make me selfish.

As I write I still don't know what I'm going to tell you. I know it won't go away and I know you will hug me and ask me what the matter is, I still don't know if I'm going to swallow and bury it just deep enough so you can't actually see my fear, or if I'll be honest, even if that means risking us.

It goes away, it comes back, it toys with me like a breeze, a ghost that softly whispers into my ear, always repeating the same word: “doubt”

todo y mas

2009-10-23T00:42:00.002+02:00

Es la una de la mañana y debería estar durmiendo o por lo menos intentándolo, pero no es el caso. Será no querer afrontar el hecho de Ciencia Política 1 mañana con una individua cuya ignorancia es tan elaborada como su currículum, será que las letras de Sabina que llenan la habitación tienen un significado especial en esta noche donde todo es igual y al mismo tiempo todo es distinto. No ha cambiado nada y, sin embargo, a veces me visita el duendecillo de la memoria que me llena de recuerdos, la mayoría buenos, pero también de nostalgia. Just one of those days I guess....

Risa fácil, media tinta, decir que quizá esta quinta no sirva para el progreso...

Sentirme sentado y viendo como pasa allá corriendo lo que debería ser mi vida

sin agarrar yo las bridas ni subirme en el galope que polvo levantaría

si no fuera porque el mundo gira más raudo que yo.

A lo mejor quisimos que el mal ganara, a lo mejor lo hizo

y lo hizo tan bien que ni nos dimos cuenta.

La esperanza sonríe y nos observa, sin mostrarnos las cuerdas ni las manos que la hacen bailar.

Quizás en los milenios de destrucción y excesos

Dios tuvo otra semana productiva

y muy lejos de aquí...

Todo esto adornado por el estribillo "ya, ya, ya eyaculé" del poeta Sabina.

I didn't tell you so...

2009-03-25T03:44:00.004+01:00

If I care about you, should I tell you that you're making the biggest mistake of your life? That you're hurting someone without any right or reason, that you're going back to misery and loneliness?

Should I just smile and follow you blindly, sticking to the job description of "always by your side"? Do you really want to know the truth or are you happy the way you are, blindfolded but smiling, unaware of the path you're taking or the bodies that lay at your feet?

Should I have gotten involved in the first place? Did I do it because I cared for you or simply to ensure the result was the one I wanted? Does my heart speak louder than your own? Does it speak for myself or for you?

What about those you brought into our life? What once was good is suddenly something never to be spoken of, forgotten, banished? Can you live with those memories locked away and trust they'll never break loose?

It will pass, everything does, even though it hasn't even started, and us bystanders will only say 'welcome back' and swallow hard, regretting having to choose friendship over justice...or will we? When you've seen the way it goes down, "good guys finish last" is not a happy sight.

No apologies, no regrets

2009-03-18T05:48:00.002+01:00

Roll the dice and flip the card

Go all in and pull the trigger

Cross your fingers, kiss your luck

Chips are falling, click or bang

Though luck may take the wheel

And bullets have your name

Tonight is not your turn

No blood in your champagne

Who knows how many bullets

That lie awaiting life

Are simply duds that whisper

The tale of your success

The barrel's never empty

The chance is always there

You're bet is all or nothing

No second place is fair

But as you squeeze that trigger

And put the piece back down

Walk with your head up high

To laugh in failure's face

You must look it in the eye

Que me quedes tu

2009-02-15T03:05:00.002+01:00

La vida y tú, la muerte y tú

Sonrisa y tú, lágrima y tú

Lejos y tú, cerca y tú

Que me lo quiten todo

Y que me quedes tú

Pues nada me habrán quitado

Y en mi alma habrán dejado

Todo lo que yo más quiero

Si me dejan a tu lado

Feliz día de San Valentín

Ironies of materialistic capitalism (footnote)

2008-12-14T08:13:00.002+01:00

This must be the only country in the world where you can only get warm water from the faucet. I've let the water run for two minutes straight and the range of temperatures goes like this: nuclear fusion point, boiling, extremely hot, very hot, and hot. So basically I couldn't get a glass of cold water before I went to bed....no comments....

Only in America...

2008-11-12T05:41:00.002+01:00

I went to the Prudential Center today to take some pictures of the reflecting pool and the Scientology Church (incredible building). Having no classes and after getting up at one I had a pretty good time, I had a good walk and went to grab some lunch at Legal Sea Foods in Prudential.

I had been to LSF before but, I don't know why, I thought they didn't have a free-refill policy. I basically chugged my first Diet Coke down and ordered a second one thinking it would be the last one if I had to pay for it. Lo and behold, the waitress returned with three sodas and places them all on my table: "I'm sure you'll end up drinking them" and walked away.

I couldn't help but laugh. Since it was around threeish the place was more or less empty and I got a chance to make some small talk with my waitress. The service was so good I ended up speaking to the manager about it and leaving a pretty good tip.

Every once in a while I'm surprised by this country, we have so much to learn from the States. The idea that people deserved to be greeted with good manners, a smile and good service when they pay good money to eat out is unknown in Spain. The equivalent of my fantastic lunch back home would have meant not getting a table in at least thirty minutes, not because the place was full but because no one would be at the entrance to assign tables, let alone greet anyone, followed by another significant wait at the table before being served by a rude person who wouldn't stop scratching their head or would have the four first buttons of his shirt undone. Of course, you would be able to order as many sodas as you wanted, paying $5 for every one, that is. While here good manners are a given, because even if you think about it from the most materialistic, greedy, money-making, point of view, good service keeps customers happy and giving better tips, we don't see that in Spain.

There is a completely different philosophy in the workplace in this country and it is truly admirable... unfortunately, back home we much rather treat people impolitely as if we were doing them a favor by taking their money. Sin comentarios...

Prayer

2008-11-10T02:50:00.003+01:00

Much as we do with everything, we have rationalized religion to the point of taking the idea of a merciful, wise and loving being and waging wars in his name because we don't agree on specifics. Starting with a common ground, we have tried to analyze every specific facet of that idea and inevitably come to opposing conclusions. Furthermore, we have profited off exploiting the name of God...pathetic.

This only speaks to our nature as humans. Even though we claim to stand for certain values, it is discouraging to see that even those who, in theory, represent the source of those values are equally or more morally corrupt than us.

Seeing that spirituality has rotted into religion, it is not surprising to see that our priorities are...skew, shall we say. Our values have become bumper stickers and we are now materialist worshippers. Even though I don't believe materialism to be an immoral practice in itself, after all we have evolved towards it naturally, when it replaces our principles we have a problem. It would be nice to see that we still stand for something...

Individual faiths notwithstanding, every once in a while we should take a step back and pray; be grateful for what we are and just stop. We are terrified of introspection, perhaps because we fear we may not like what we see, but we should realize that we are extremely fortunate, and appreciate that.

Kinship and convictions

2008-11-07T02:22:00.004+01:00

Perhaps because of my individual experiences I have become a firm believer in the idea that family is not created through blood. This is not to say that it is not often the case where those to whom you are related by blood make up this group. It goes back to the debate of whether or not blood implies love and, more importantly, respect. Must these two values be unconditional no matter who our relatives are? Are they a 'given' when it comes to blood ties?

I consider people to be part of my 'family' when they follow the saying that 'they are the ones that come to you when everyone else is running away from you'. When someone gives you their love and respect, not unconditionally and as a given but because they believe in you and think that you have earned it and when it is equally the case vice versa, a bond which can only be named family is formed. Thus, in my opinion the concepts of family and friendship blend and only the ideas of love and respect create ties, which in many cases combine friendship and family.

Therefore, when, through the process involving the creation of bonds, this group of people becomes a reality the security that you have a safety net as well becomes a reality. However, unlike in cases where blood is the only uniting factor, in this situation there is no such thing as blind faith based on lineage but a conscious appreciation of what you have done for each other and how that ensures the safety net.

The question begs to be asked: is blood enough? Inevitably when a child comes out of his mother's womb and she has carried him in her for nine months (sounds familiar? refer to emotional blackmail 101) and is the product of his father's seed, there is a connection. Nevertheless, are there issues which can make all bets come off? When our convictions oppose those we supposedly love unconditionally, is blood enough?

One might argue that, because of the preconceived idea that blood creates unconditional bonds, in families where this is the modus operandi, so to speak, there is no room for the possibility of rupture, no matter the circumstances.

The fact that we exist is purely statistical, our parents have the same probability of being wise, loving parents as they do of being horribly selfish human beings. Even though it may sound cynical, I don't agree with a binding contract based on chance, meaning that since we have no way of choosing our parents, how can we promise anything to them unconditionally. This is not meant to imply that respect should be lost. However it does argue that, even though we must be thankful for our education and upbringing, safe under our parents watchful eye (hopefully), there will be moments when our own convictions will come head to head with those we love. When this is the case, if that love is based on the understanding and respect of those convictions, it is easier to follow them than it would be if the love and respect were based on obligation due to genetics rather than values. Again, this issue can't really be simplified to this extreme since we inevitably share a period of time with our family, before we are even remotely sure of what we believe in. During this period of time, however, we do get the chance to know who our family is, to examine whether or not blood implies love.

If we believe that we are our own person and grow up to completely discover it, we must make room for the possibility that this individual will not represent our parents' ideals and that there might be conflict. If we choose to think that because we are born to certain people we are in debt (common adage) and therefore unconditionally bound to them, we are attaching ourselves not only to people but ideas, hence thwarting our own individual growth and freedom. Obviously the issue at hand would have to be core to our values to imply that there could be some kind of rupture between us and those we love. The chance that such a conflict may come up is drastically reduced, in my opinion, when our bonds are made up of genuine affection and respect.

Can we?

2008-11-06T02:44:00.005+01:00

Yesterday Barack Obama became the fourty-fourth President of the United States of America. In a predicted, yet nevertheless explosive victory, the new President promised change, but demanded sacrifice. After millions have followed him cheering "yes we can", the rubber meets the road and it is time to see if this administration truly mean business. It is easy to become elected in a time of crisis with promises of change, but now is the time when he will have to live up to his promises.

Obama was right on the money when he said that this election represents the idea that the American dream is alive and well. This man's journey from his birth to the Presidency is truly representative of this dream. He has become a leader to many and will now direct the nation in what is most definitely a decisive moment in American history.

The task that lies ahead is a colossal one: repairing eight years of what many have seen as the most oppressive and misguided period in modern American history. Seven years after 9/11 it will be interesting to see if this new President will take a step back to analyze the radicalism into which this country has plunged and take on a more moderate approach. After two wars with the looming possibility of another two, an immense amount of debt, the worse economic crisis since the Great Depression, an almost complete rupture of international relations and the cannibalization of individual rights and constitutional freedoms, things must change.

In my opinion the most egregious damage the former administration has done, which the new one will have to deal with, has been to strip individuals of their freedoms. The radical reaction to 9/11 is historically rational, considering that before September the 11th the United States had never before experienced such an attack on civil objectives on its own soil (the only comparison that comes to mind is Pearl Harbor, and that was a military objective); however, it's terms were beyond belief. Under the premise that sacrifices were necessary in order to defeat the new enemy, liberties for which the original colonies shed their blood were lost. The bases on which this country was founded were taken away, with the stroke of a pen, and people were told that it was the right thing to do, in order to protect that which was precisely being taken away from them. If this country is going to continue priding itself in the values it claims to represent, its administration must seriously see for itself whether or not those principles are truly upheld.

Even though the following clip is from a TV show and is, thus, a dramatization, I think it clearly shows the effect that excessive authority may have in a time of crisis.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TwDAbVqQqv0

The people have spoken, and they have asked for change. Their hopes now lie with the new administration. The question is, will they live up to the expectations? Yes we can, yes we can....now it's his turn to uphold his end of the bargain.

Duerme...

2008-10-27T04:38:00.002+01:00

Saber que estás a medio mundo, pero que estás tranquilo.

Saber que has cerrado los ojos y nada puede hacerte daño

Saber que cualquier mal vendrá en forma de un mal sueño

Saber que ahora viajas entre nubes de algodón

Pensar que no puedo tocarte, sentir que no te siento

Y no querer gritar por miedo a despertarte

Querer acariciar tu pelo y susurrar 'te quiero'

Agradecer ser yo el que está despierto

Pedir que no despiertes ni bajes de tus sueños

Ni tengas la desdicha de sufrir este insomnio

Jurar que voy a estar siempre al pie de tu cama

Duerme...

Blue Suede Shoes

2008-10-03T02:17:00.001+02:00

A cup of hot chocolate on a cold night and that song...bliss

Table for one, binoculars please

2008-10-01T02:12:00.002+02:00

We try to lead supposedly private lives, where only those in our "circle of trust" (see Meet the Parents) are allowed to know us for who we truly are. It is interesting to see, however, how our facades, more often than not, have cracks through which strangers may pry into us. My uncle once said that if he disappeared and we didn't know where he was, he would probably be sitting in Time Square...looking at people.

I found my own 'Times Square' in the cafeteria. In a place where strangers meet, it is fascinating to see how people behave. From the trained athlete who indulges in an extra slice of pizza or another brownie, to the student who can't have dessert because she is so busy studying for a test, passing through the famous table for one.

Someone sitting...alone. For what I've seen there are two ways to approach the procedure. Some shily take a seat once they have gotten all their food, and seem to curl into a ball over their tray. This person will occasionally glance rapidly around him as if to make sure he is, indeed, invisible. In an effort to become even more inconspicuous, often that person will bury their face in some book with no relevance whatsoever to their interest or following class.The cafeteria suddenly becomes a hostile environment where everyone is judging everybody else. Through stares, whispers, laughter and other subtle signs the most powerful jump on the weak ones.

The other approach to the table for one drives those kings of the jungle crazy, since they are completely bewildered. When someone walks into the cafeteria alone, but smiling, people don't know how to act. When that person takes their time picking out what they want to eat, remaining calm and confident, people ask themselves....but why? Then, the final straw: when that person does not remain seated. Getting up for dessert, for more soda, or even moving around raises the stakes immediately.

If, combined with all these sacrilegious actions, one's demeanor while eating is positive, the bewilderment intensifies. I've often been told I eat 'very erotically' and, lately that I eat 'like a European'. In response to the erotism in my eating habits, I can only say that I like my food and try to enjoy it. As for the latter remark, however, I would like to go into it a little bit more. Apparently, eating 'like a European' is having plain good manners, which again makes people ask themselves 'but why?' The other day at a restaurant I got my entree before anyone else, and waited for people to be served before I started. This refusal to dig into my food before everyone else and somehow make a point of 'screw all of you' made people so uncomfortable! It was hilarious to see people's reaction: some just stared at my food salivating while others just came right out and said "why aren't you eating?". When I refused to eat until everyone was served, people couldn't believe it...again, "but why?" I don't know if it was good manners or a type of sociological experiment that drove me to wait, but again the reactions were incredible. Quoting someone at the table "I don't know how you do it in Spain, but in the States we are selfish sons of bitches." Another part of 'eating like a European' is the way I hold my fork and knife. Even though I completely understand that in different cultures this is taught different, I still find it to be part of what you can consider a 'presentation card' each one of us carries when we meet someone for the first time. I have seen people cut a steak in ways that would make Jack the Ripper proud, and people just don't understand why I take my time eating, holding the fork in my left hand, the knife in my right.

Public behavior is really an art. I find it truly rewarding when you can use your demeanor to show how good you feel. The same way we 'dress to impress', or walk in a certain way when we feel confident, I think this theory should also be applied to eating habits. It may sound twisted, but I think that, much in the same way we love it when someone turns their head when our outfit catches their eye, it also makes us feel good when we see people don't understand why we're happy, why we smile or why we 'eat erotically' even if it is in a table for one.

Completely alive

2008-09-11T03:01:00.003+02:00

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!

_____________________________

That's what I got for my fourteenth birthday as a present from my dad. Quite a checklist, isn't it? And yet, the all define but one concept: balance. We seek eternal pleasures yet focus on the present and never forget the past; we crave extravagant luxuries and yet find happiness often in the smallest details....balance.

I wouldn't be so presumptuous as to say that I've even remotely achieved that balance, but at specific and sporadic moments, the see-saw that makes up my life passes its vertex, and a feeling of peace invades me. It all may tumble and go downhill in a second, but they can never have that moment.

We too often complain about the overwhelming sensation that for every pleasant moment we experience, we face ten painful ones. This being the case, and I agree with the statement to some degree, we should cherish that ten percent :) I try really hard to believe that, and sometimes fail miserably but, if some of those moments are savored like they ought to, then at least I can say I'm truly alive.

Something that I am trying out for the first time is scheduling happiness. In this case, I don't mean planning something for myself (not saying there's anything wrong in that, we should definitely indulge ourselves when we have the chance) but for others. I'm counting down the days to a moment when I know I will make others happy and, thus, find personal comfort. I guess it could all fall to pieces on me, but as another day goes by, it gets harder and harder for that to happen...slowly by steadily I'm getting there and the exes in the calendar seem to act as brick rows that make that probablity rise, until I get to the moment when it becomes a reality. Tic, toc, and another brick in the wall.

The right to happiness

2008-09-07T03:44:00.002+02:00

"Happiness consists more in small conveniences of pleasures that occur every day, than in great pieces of good fortune that happen but seldom to a man in the course of his life."

-Benjamin Franklin

We can appreciate the truth in this quote every day of our lives. Whether it is that sweet first taste of morning coffee, getting a cab when you need one or finding something that randomly makes you smile, it is those moments that represent true happiness. Even though we experience them, we often let go of them too soon and fail to understand what we are going through and how precious those moments are. Too often, we are blinded by an idea of an abstract and more quantitative concept of what we define as 'happiness'.

Our emotional education has unleashed a cyclical pendulum pattern which we now suffer. We are brought up with an idea of happiness which seems so extravagantly attractive that it fails to represent reality. When myths and legends reflecting ideal values and traits 'evolved' into Disney movies where the ideal turned into the surreal, we created our own worst enemy when it comes to happiness. We created the possibility of perfection and, more importantly, we publicly announced it was easily accessible.

Thus, we have had generation after generation of girls dreaming about being princesses just waiting to be rescued by Prince Charming (slightly male chauvinist if you ask me, but I'm sure it reflected the ideal values of another generation) and boys who believed girls were just waiting for them (by boys I refer to that stage right past the 'girls are icky and I like to put bubblegum in their hair' phase). That was one end of the pendulum, an end which we often reminisce in and hold dear to us.

Now, though, we see more and more people shifting to the opposite extreme: a complete lack of faith in the possibility of love and a reduction of emotion to pure misery. Whether it is in the new fashion statements that promote depressive behaviors, or simply in the feminist reaction to the stereotypical model of a 'perfect' relation, we go from 'Prince charming rescues helpless princess' to 'Princess does not believe in love, slays the dragon herself, takes the head home to hang on her wall and locks her doors preventing any man from ever entering her home or her heart'. Of course the roles for men and women here are flexible and this is only an opinion but, I truly think we can see the effects of extreme idealism.

So because of the point we are at right now, we are becoming aware that the abstract and romantically enhanced vision of complete happiness at every level is, if not impossible, a one-in-a-million possibility. So, here we come back to the effectiveness of our sentimental education. If there is only a sliver of a chance that we will be completely happy, do we ever have the right of throwing the dice for another person? Do we have the right to diminish their chances?

Furthermore, when we already have, and see that because we are guilty of making them miserable we should not ask for more, and yet the other person complies and suffers...are we truly working towards happiness? Does the end in this case justify the means?

If you wish upon a star

2008-09-03T01:03:00.002+02:00

Today is the day the rest of my life begins....of course we could say that about every day, but, realities that take away from the literary beauty of that sentence notwithstanding, today is truly a leap into the unknown. I'm officially on my own: new city, new university, new people. My mom left this afternoon and now it's just me.

Even though I'm often pessimistic about everything in general, I can't really see today as anything other than wonderful. Even though saying good-bye to my mom was a bit painful, as soon as I saw her pass security (I swear it looked like I was her father), I got an email from you-know-who and my heart skipped a beat. The email was as sweet as it gets and as soon as I started reading it my face lit up and I had a smile that went all the way back behind my ears. I hummed and skipped my way back to the airport exit and just when I thought I wouldn't be able to find a cab, one pulled up just in front of me...I guess Murphy's took Labor Day one day later.

Even though I was cheerful and in an extremely romantic mood, I still had my doubts as to what this new city and life had in store for me. Right when these doubts started to tease my mind and threaten with replacing the wonderful mood I was in before, the cab driver asked me to sit up front with him. I never knew Jiminy Cricket could take on the shape of a six-foot-five black haitian cab driver. It was one of the best cab rides I've ever had. We talked all the way through it and the man managed to completely erase any trace of doubt from my mind: I was going to have a great time: period.

Who knows what tomorrow will bring, but today, I'm positive that life is good.

Phoenix

2008-09-01T02:44:00.002+02:00

No thoughts, no tears

Slow rise from the ashes

You hold my hand

I look up, can't feel my feet

Far? Near?

Here.

A Month? A Year?

Now.

You? Me?

Us.

Start anew, and you...you're there

Crash and burn before take-off

2008-08-29T02:47:00.002+02:00

Three suitcases. Just like that my life in Madrid is packed away. And now, as the suitcases stand ready for departure, and the clock slowly ticks away the minutes left until I have to get ready to leave, everything I know I shouldn't think about comes to mind.

I left you sleeping, I couldn't bear to stay any longer, I knew my tears would wake you and I didn't want that. I don't know what I expected; perhaps that somehow, in these six days the sky would fall and we could stay together. The sky is still in one piece and I find myself trying to fool myself into believing that those moments of happiness are worth the tears and the pain. Again, we saw it coming and we went head-first into oblivion. It's like looking for pearls in a bucket of oil. I sometimes wish I had chickened out when I saw you, run away home and never thought of you again. And yet, as I saw you sleeping (or maybe pretending you were asleep, I haven't figured you out yet) glowing in the light of that lava lamp, I knew we had achieved perfection....and now it's over. Now, I fall from such great heights, and I bring you down with me when you never asked to come along for the trip...

Every attempt to rationalize the situation is blown to smithereens when I think of you, when I remember your eyes, your smile and your touch. Even you tell me there will be others: 'mejores, seguro; peores, seguro' and, that being said, I'm still terrified by the thought that in ten years I'll look back only to realize you were the best thing I ever had. Sure you can argue that I'm young and foolish, that my romanticized vision of the world distorts reality completely and that I should move on, period.

Everyone around me tells me that this will be a great change, that I am following my dreams. Now, as I'm two hours away from getting on a plane which will take me to the rest of my life, I question everything. It's the first step I take on my own and I'm scared shitless. The thought of looking back in the future and realizing it was all wrong.....sometimes I do think the road not taken does make 'all the difference'.

Anyway, don't listen to me...after all, I'm just foolishly romantic. Soon enough the political pragmatism we are all programmed for will kick in and I will do 'what you have to'. Even so, I'd appreciate it if we could see things clearly for what they are. Why are we fed so much bullshit (forgive my french) about romance and fairytales if we don't pursue those dreams. I understand siding either with love or pragmatism, but why sell one when we know we will eventually be forced to choose the other?

God you looked beautiful...sweet dreams.

-------------------------

James Blunt - Goodbye My Lover

Did I disappoint you or let you down?

Should I be feeling guilty or let the judges frown?
'Cause I saw the end before we'd begun,
Yes I saw you were blinded and I knew I had won.
So I took what's mine by eternal right.
Took your soul out into the night.
It may be over but it won't stop there,
I am here for you if you'd only care.
You touched my heart you touched my soul.
You changed my life and all my goals.
And love is blind and that I knew when,
My heart was blinded by you.
I've kissed your lips and held your head.
Shared your dreams and shared your bed.
I know you well, I know your smell.
I've been addicted to you.

Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me.

I am a dreamer but when I wake,
You can't break my spirit - it's my dreams you take.
And as you move on, remember me,
Remember us and all we used to be
I've seen you cry, I've seen you smile.
I've watched you sleeping for a while.
I'd be the father of your child.
I'd spend a lifetime with you.
I know your fears and you know mine.
We've had our doubts but now we're fine,
And I love you, I swear that's true.
I cannot live without you.

Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me.

And I still hold your hand in mine.
In mine when I'm asleep.
And I will bear my soul in time,
When I'm kneeling at your feet.
Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me.
I'm so hollow, baby, I'm so hollow.
I'm so, I'm so, I'm so hollow.

Please don't stop the music

2008-08-25T10:45:00.003+02:00

After several hours talking about politics, weapons, cars, military equipment, past relationships, colleges, law, justice, police and, more importantly...honesty, I couldn't help but smile. I never thought I could find someone just as weird as myself and...the way you put it, 'God damn it, just when I found someone who knows what a Tico is'

Right now I don't want to think, I doubt it would do me any good. I'm leaving in four days and all I want to do is close my eyes and cuddle up to you: no plans, no planes, no changes, just you, me and military history.

Ironically, you tell me I should leave, that I should take advantage of my opportunity, enjoy my time there and not worry about anything. I don't know if you actually believe what you say or just say what you 'should' but, more surprisingly, the fact that you say it makes me like you even more.

So....where do we go from here? No clue, I don't want to know. Sure, it's childish, I just want to enjoy the here and now and refuse to look down the road...so please don't stop the music.

________________________

Natasha St. Pier ft Pascal Obispo - Mourir Demain

Il y a ceux qui prendraient un avion
D'autres qui s'enfermeraient chez eux les yeux fermés
Toi, qu'est-ce que tu ferais ?

Toi, qu'est-ce que tu ferais ?

Il y en a qui voudrait revoir la mer
D'autres qui voudraient encore faire l'amour
Une dernière fois
Toi, tu ferais quoi ? ... et toi, tu ferais quoi ?

Si on devait mourir demain
Qu'est-ce qu'on ferait de plus,
Qu'est-ce qu'on ferait de moins
Si on devait mourir demain
Moi, je t'aimerai... moi, je t'aimerai

Il y en a qui referaient leur passé
Certains qui voudraient boire et faire la fête
Jusqu'au matin
D'autres qui prieraient...

D'autres qui prieraient...

Ceux qui s'en fichent et se donneraient du plaisir
Et d'autres qui voudraient encore partir
Avant la fin
Toi, qu'est-ce que tu ferais ? ... et toi, qu'est-ce que tu ferais ?

Si on devait mourir demain
Qu'est-ce qu'on ferait de plus
Qu'est-ce qu'on ferait de moins
Si on devait mourir demain
Moi, je t'aimerai... moi, je t'aimerai... Je t'aimerai

Et toi, dis moi, est ce que tu m'aimeras
Jusqu'à demain et tous les jours d'après
Que rien, non rien, ne s'arrêtera jamais
Si on devait mourir demain
Moi, je t'aimerai... moi, je t'aimerai
Est-ce qu'on ferait du mal, du bien
Si on avait jusqu'à demain
Pour vivre tout ce qu'on a rêvé
Si on devait mourir demain
Moi, je t'aimerai... moi, je t'aimerai

Carpe Diem

2008-08-22T17:06:00.002+02:00

Shock led to pain, which led to frustration, then spite, hatred, and finally search for revenge...

In my case it wasn't exactly this way since the last step was rather 'how do I stop thinking about him?' rather than 'how can I screw him over?' And so, the last link in this chain was, inevitably, sex. It's funny to see how people deal with emotional pain: some cry, some laugh untruthfully, some laugh genuinely, some stare at a wall....I decided to have sex. Through physical pleasure, I believed, I could get my mind off things.

So...out of all the hunky rebound guys, why did I have to choose one I could actually like? He was a complete stranger and, to be perfectly honest, I only wanted his body at first. I have had the occasional one night stand and only wanted that this time...Murphy you bastard. I've seen him again these last days and, go figure, I like him and he likes me. It sounds like something that would never happen, a mental cock-up between sex and emotion, and yet both the sexual and the emotional part are great.

I have always been a rationalist who argued logically that there could be no such thing as emotion from sex. I always said I thought we could and should separate physical from emotional attachment. Even Neruda described love as a great friendship with great sex. I argued that for a true attraction between two people to occur it had to be based on emotion, not physical urges. I thought that you could be that scientific about it, that you could truly argue that sex is sex and love is love. Unfortunately, I've fallen twice into the same trap. Something that seemed so simple and straightforward turned out to be completely the opposite. Not that I don't like it, it again goes back to an improbability factor and Murphy messing with our minds....'want a rebound guy? here you go.....p.s. you're gonna fall for him'

'Seize the day' is apparently this last month's motto. However, it's not as fun as it seems. Sure I'll enjoy the six days I have left until I leave, but that doesn't imply disregarding the consequences of my actions. Someone I truly love just asked me not to leave, crying, pleading...my little adventure is obviously harming more people than I originally expected. And so, with hundreds of questions unanswered in my mind, my sleep cycle upside down, and my friends away, I now not only have to deal with my own emotions regarding the subject but those of the people around me.

As I wrote back to this person, I wondered, was the fact that the person begged me not to leave a selfish thing to do or a loving act? When we say we want to 'break free' 'move on' 'leave the nest', do we realize that involves leaving many behind? What about them? Do they have the obligation to wave us good-bye and swallow their tears or should they consider our departure a wake-up call and show us how they truly feel?

I don't know if I'll live to regret my choices, I'm sure I will for some of them. The only thing I know is that up to this point I've loved every minute of the trip. I can't even guess where or how I'll be in a couple of years, nor can I do this for those around me; however, I can say that the moments I've lived with them until today will always be precious memories which I will never stop cherishing.

________________________

Leona Lewis - Yesterday

I just cant believe your gone,

still waiting for morning to come,

when I see if the sun will rise,

in the way that your by my side,

where we had so much in store,

tell me what is it I'm reaching for,

when we're through building memories

I'll hold yesterday in my heart, in my heart

They can take tomorrow and the plans we made,

they can take the music that we'll never play,

all the broken dreams, take everything,

just take it away, but they can never have yesterday,

they can take the future that we'll never know

they can take the places that we said we will go,

all the broken dreams take everything,

just take it away, but they can never have yesterday

You always choose to stay,

I should be thankful for everyday,

heaven knows what the future holds,
or least where the story goes,

I never believed until now,

I know il see you again I'm sure,

no its not selfish to ask for more,

one more night, one more day

one more smile on your face

but they cant take yesterday,

They can take tomorrow and the plans we made,

they can take the music that we'll never play,

all the broken dreams, take everything,

just take it away, but they can never have yesterday,

they can take the future that we'll never know

they can take the places that we said we will go,

all the broken dreams take everything,

just take it away, but they can never have yesterday

I thought our days would last forever,

but it wasn't our destiny,

'cause in my mind we had so much time,

but I was so wrong,

no I can, believe me,

I can still find the strength

in the moments we made
im lookin back on yesterday

They can take tomorrow and the plans we made,

they can take the music that we'll never play,

all the broken dreams, take everything,

just take it away, but they can never have yesterday,

they can take the future that we'll never know

they can take the places that we said we will go,

all the broken dreams take everything,

just take it away, but they can never have yesterday

Red tape? What for?

2008-08-20T00:17:00.003+02:00

Two weeks ago I was walking near my house with a couple of friends at around 3 in the morning. At that time there was no one on the streets and we immediately noticed a motorcycle that started following us. On it were two guys which shouted something like "suck my cock" at us. They then went around the block and again slowed down to look at us. Finally, on their third time around they rode the motorcycle onto the boardwalk and headed for me. My friends were walking on the sides of the boardwalk while I walked right through the middle. When they got onto the boardwalk the guys in the motorcycle tried to scare me pretending they would run me over. I guess they thought I would budge and leap out of the way....I didn't and they had to brake, almost crash and hit a pot in the process....I think that pissed them off.

They immediately started swearing at me and threatened with beating me up. Even though one of my friends tried to reason with them, one of the guys took out a nightstick and started to move towards me. He was a bit surprised when I turned around carrying a wooden cane about four feet in size with a big brass ball on the end (I had thought it would be fun to go walking with such a fancy cane). At the same time, a car stopped right next to us and the occupant offered his help. The two guys from the motorcycle got scared and fled on Pozuelo's main street on the wrong lane. We phoned the police and, surprisingly enough, they stopped the motorcycle and identified the guys.

Usually I complain bitterly about our police departments here in Spain. However, in this case it took thirty seconds to have a squad car at the scene and in less than five minutes they had identified the two people on the motorcycle. Of course, I pressed charges thinking that they would at least have to go to trial and go through the entire process, hopefully facing a conviction.

After filing the claim, we were told that the docket would take at least a month to get to court. Knowing that I wouldn't be in the country by then, I checked with a lawyer and went by the courtroom today to present a sworn affidavit and be excused from trial.

I was pleasantly surprised when the people at the courtroom kindly showed me to where I had to go. However, I was utterly disappointed when I got to the right place. At a desk, a kind woman with a warm smile informed me that the two guys were underage. As minors, the file had been sent to the DA responsible for those cases and thus had gone from a personal claim (since the police had not been present at the time of the threats, and since it is considered a minor offense rather than a felony, it was basically my word against their's which basically ensured a trial had to take place) to a DA case (meaning that it was now the district attorney who decided whether or not charges would be pressed). Because of that, she told me, it was best if I forgot the whole thing happened....as she put it: "after all, they didn't beat up did they? see? it's nothing serious"

You have to laugh if you don't want to burn down the courtroom, so I did. I had just been taught that it is legally acceptable to threaten people with weapons (p.s. the police impounded my cane because they considered it a 'dangerous weapon' and I will probably never recover it) as long as you stop when you're eighteen (then you can just plea temporary insanity ;) ). So basically I'm living five blocks away (I saw them again and know where they live) from two guys who decided they would beat me up since the didn't have anything else to do.

I must admit I was surprised by the fact that there was barely any red tape or paperwork in this process, but then again the outcome was less than favorable to say the least.

Subconscious schmonscious

2008-08-19T18:40:00.003+02:00

It's slowly but surely becoming a reality....as Frankie would put it, "I'm leaving on a jet plane" in ten days...yikes!

Here's the catch: I'm not even aware of just how scared/nervous I really am. To everyone that asks I calmly respond that I'm anxious to get there, and I'm doing everything I have to to make sure that all goes well. What's more I even told my parents that I'd be fine and not to worry; I told them there was no need to come and see me before next year.

So if all is well, why can't I sleep? Why have I taken up piano again? Why have I taken up photography again? Even this blog screams subconscious stress from a mile away. Am I simply using occupational therapy as an escape valve or am I simply becoming more active?

I've experienced this kind of stress before, and still do. When my parents got divorced, for example, I got this tick where I would count the syllables of whatever word or sentence I was saying and see if it came out to be an even or odd number. It sounds wacky, but who doesn't have a wacky tick? "A otros les da por peinar bombillas" ('others choose to comb lightbulbs')

Truth is I don't know if I should be worried or not. Objectively, this is going to be a radical change in my life, and yet I know I want it to take place...it already is. I guess this is like the night before a plane trip, I can never sleep. Bad part is this is stretching itself out for about a month.

Blind date, blind faith, blind ignorance

2008-08-19T07:24:00.002+02:00

After not sleeping for two days I finally fell asleep at 9 PM. Ironically, last night was the only night I didn't want to fall asleep since I was waiting for something to happen...it never did so I'm glad I got some sleep (even though I was up at 5, don't ask me why).

One year ago today, I left my house with my stomach in a knot. This guy I met online wanted to meet me after only two weeks. The only person I had actually met from my online acquaintances had to wait six months until we met in person, and yet, not knowing why, I accepted to meet him. Not only did I accept to meet him, but got in his car.

I was supposedly going to take him to a bar near my house but when we got there the place was closed. Then, he asked me: "Do you trust me?" The short answer is obviously NOT but since he didn't look like Jack the Ripper I said yes. And so, he put the car in gear and headed out on the highway. We were about 50 km outside Madrid when we pulled onto a dirt road. It was past midnight.

Of course I had taken precautions (what can I say, the lawyer in me). I had asked for his driver's license number, date of birth, complete name, brand and model of his car, license plates, phone number and workplace. I texted all the information to a friend and asked her to call me after two hours to see if everything was all right.

When I remember that "date" I laugh but I was scared shitless as we left the main road, got onto a dirt one without any street lights and headed out to a field in the middle of nowhere. I was convinced that he either raped and killed me or it was going to be the most romantic date of my life. Fortunately for me, it turned out to be the latter and when we got out of the car and looked up I have never seen so many stars in my life.

I'm still unable to describe that relationship. Sure, we knew each other's basic facts: age, place and date of birth, workplace, family members, friends...and yet, conversation always seemed to be trivial, small talk. That being said, the relationship wasn't based on lust either. Sure, the physical part was great, but there was always something else behind it. I still don't know what it was and fail to logically understand how two people that barely talk can have such an intimate connection. It was that factor that made us melt when we looked into each other's eyes (ok, cheeseball, sue me) and I've never been able to put my finger on it.

We broke up exactly three months later, when I decided that sharing him with his girlfriend wasn't what I wanted. Still, even though I knew I didn't want to be the mystery mistress, I couldn't stop thinking about him and we actually ended on pretty good terms. We saw each other once after that, I again decided that it wasn't what I wanted (that time it would've involved sharing him with his girlfriend and another guy) and we parted ways.

Again, that mysterious factor comes into play. If you look at the situation as an outsider, or simply objectively, you could perfectly say that it was plain sex with an unashamedly unfaithful guy who didn't even know what he wanted. And yet, I can't bring myself to do that. I know, don't ask me how, that it wasn't only sex, and I still believe that under a different set of circumstances things could've worked out.

Anyway, all this to say that I was secretly hoping to see him again on the anniversary of our first date. I'm not even sure he's in town, or available, but even so I still hoped and believed it might just happen...it didn't. It's funny, though, how that "fuzz factor" can make even the most cynical person have, for a moment, blind faith.

The incredible Mr. Big

2008-08-18T06:57:00.003+02:00

I just talked to him after months without contact; my incredible Mr. Big. Fine, I copied the name from Sex And The City, but regardless, this guy is incredibly important to me. In SATC the character played by Chris Noth is an attractive bachelor about ten years older than the protagonist who is somewhere between a friend and a platonic love. Of course, since no TV show can have an unhappy ending they eventually end up together and get married in the movie.

In my case I highly doubt that I'll end up marrying my Mr. Big, I think we'd drive each other nuts. No, what I mean by that name is that person who, even though in my case he is between a friend and a platonic love, is usually a friend whose acquaintance we made in a bizarre way, who is always in and out of our life and who always pops up at the right time. It's that someone who you know you must have been married to in another life and yet you laugh at the thought of being with them. You can have the worst day of your life and, right at that moment when you think you're going to lose it you get a call, sms or email simply saying "hey kid" which puts a smile on your face that makes it all ok.

I met my Mr. Big on an online forum....a soccer forum (not that I was into soccer, just soccer players and they had pretty good pics there) four years ago. One night one of us (can't remember who) decided to post a topic called "What are you listening to". It was a tedious summer afternoon and it's just the type of thing you do to keep you busy, you post the song you're listening to. As soon as the topic was posted, we met. We met simply because we were both stubbornly determined to post more songs per minute. In less than fifteen minutes we had collapsed the servers and almost been banned from the forum, and were chatting away on messenger. We spent almost every night that week chatting until at least five in the morning, about everything.

I guess distance and age really played a significant part in the relationship, if you want to call it that. He was five years older than me and about three-hundred kilometers away, a perfect confident and an ideal platonic target. There I was, a fourteen year-old brat pouring my heart out to a nineteen year-old college student, teasing him all the way and, to my surprise, getting pretty good feedback.

It was just the type of relationship you want, and yet we both were confident and at ease with the idea that nothing would ever happen between us. If you mixed his arrogance and my annoying nagging you got endless hours of sarcasm, witty comebacks and some of the best laughs of my life. You could say that things even spiced up at a point (obviously several years after we first met) and that only made the friendship more interesting since it brought a whole new level of connotations with which to fool around. You could also say we both corrupted each other (if we were ever innocent) and loved every minute of it.

So when he popped up today I stopped worrying. I still can't sleep, I have a lot to do, and yet with that "hey kid" that smile came about and if I had to post a reply to "What are you listening to" it would have to be Michael Buble - I'm Feeling Good.

Cheers.

Mosquitoes, love and other things I'd love to swat

2008-08-17T08:33:00.006+02:00

I resigned myself to the idea of sleep at about 7:30 (after going to bed at 6:30) when I was bitten for the sixth time by the same bloodsucking, high-pitched flyby, damn mosquito. Accepting the impossibility of sleeping, I decided that the best way to spend the next hour was huddled in a corner of my room, lights on, actually speaking out loud to this insect, its brain several hundred times smaller than a pinhead, which still outsmarted me.

It got to a point where I would randomly slap myself around, completely paranoid and itching all over. Every time it buzzed in my ear I kept wishing that God would smite it down in His wrath even if he took the entire apartment building down with it. Then I realized...how well has the whole "make a wish" trick worked out in the last eighteen years? Not so well...

As we go through the early years of our life, we are awarded random "carte-blanches" with which we can actually point out a specific thing we desire and, supposedly, obtain it. Usually these rituals take place on the anniversary of your birth and whenever you lose an eyelash.

At first of course we begin our series of silent demands with pure, unashamed and perfectly magnificent (if you ask me) materialism. The good thing about those wishes is that there is a good chance they might come true. In my case, it usually went like this: I wished for something, I then told my parents what I had wished for and, if there was money the wish came true, and if there wasn't any money, I saved up and the wish came true anyway....sweet. Enter love, generosity and the whole cart of horseshit. The way I see it, that's where we went wrong; we are selfish by nature, materialistic, pragmatic and yet completely ashamed of these traits even though we do little or nothing to prove otherwise. So we wish for the welfare of others....let me make a short list of the latest consequences of "I wish he'll be happy" for me:

1.) A phone call on my birthday in which, instead of hearing "happy birthday cutie" or something similar, I get "Hi! I fell in love with a guy I just met!"

2.) A Thai flight attendant....

3.) Walking in on the guy I like getting a blowjob in the bathroom from a woman and then giving me all the details, having to nod and smile all the way through.

So, the scoreboard doesn't look too good...

And now, the question: What causes us to go against our genetic composition and natural tendencies of selfishness, forgoing them in order to "wish he'll be happy"? I understand physical attracion, that I get completely. We need to keep the species going and look for the Alpha male (p.s. I just learned today that there's this fetish involving Alpha jackets....the world's going nuts). However, it's not only biosexually motivated attraction, but in many cases something deeper. If the -logic part of biologic applied, we would know better than to believe we can act as something other than animals if that is what originally drives our attraction.

So instead of following biology, we have created this type of masochism where, not only do we have to work much much harder for the sex but, we have created such a chemical inbalance in our brains that we actually feel pain and joy which aren't physical and a whole variety of feelings in between. Even more, we have created a type of attraction where we obsess to the point of saying "he's the one" and being absolutely positive about it until we either succeed or move on. In a nutshell we have discarded the idea of choosing the fittest maleS to obsessing about one for vast amounts of time and basing our choice on something other than genes (I'm sure you thing he's cute but for God's sake open an Abercrome & Fitch catalog then tell me your going on purely Darwinian criteria here).

Last month I met up with a guy I used to like a lot and, even though we had a great time, I kept asking myself how it was possible that I used to drool over him, waiting for him to call, counting the days until we saw each other again....even the physical attraction which had been so strong several years ago only inspired a miserable "meh" when I saw him. And yet, at the time I was convinced that things could work out and he could turn out to be "the one". Why do we obsess with perfection? Why one? Can't we be a bit more realistic and assume that there will be more than one person who can relate to us and spend time with us? Can't we come to terms with this idea, especially after a pattern of "he's the one" NEXT "he's the one" NEXT?

I often wonder if there is a "one" whether or not that person would be attainable. I have no problem admitting when I have failed in a relationship or being rejected to start with but....what about the impossibility factor, or rather the "straight or gay" factor? What happens if the real "one" is the only one we can't get? What happens when our brilliantly romantic, chemically imbalanced, alternative to biology hits a brick wall?

__________________________________

Solo Un Deseo

Clamar al destino, al cielo rogar
tapar nuestras yagas, la llama alumbrar
y jurar....

Promesas que nunca podremos cumplir
al creer que podremos el tiempo domar
si, ya sea por mérito, piedad o valor,
nos fuera otorgado ese único amor
que ansiamos con rabia, pasión, sin pudor

Bendita ignorancia, maldita ilusión
al creer que con ello la pieza encajó
que acabó todo el puzle, que la incógnita hayó

Y ver que al mirar desde lejos la obra
no es sino un sucio lienzo, mil tonos de sombra
que ese final no hizo mas que poner
en paleta colores, en un corazón querer

Y es que ansiar una flor de un esquejo invisible
sin mirar más que a un punto esperando un milagro
sin querer admitir que no es todo a una carta
nos pudre por dentro, rabiamos por falta
de no poder ver que no hay sólo un querer

Que la vida es tragar y sentirla escocer
y saber que los tragos que habremos de dar
seran mil harto amargos
mas que dulces vendrán
que mil hay sin su fruto ni su jugo darán
que son secos y largos sin motivo ni son

Mas a cada respiro que ansiado tomamos
buscamos sin falta volver a empezar
y ver que los llantos, sollozos y golpes
las fuertes mareas, los vientos, los nombres
de aquellos que pudieron ser, que fueron, que duelen
que creimos rompieron lo allén construido
son las cicatrices que crean el lienzo
cada una un dolor, cada una un recuerdo

Y al los años pasar, y al caer cien mil veces
al levantarnos con rabia, al volver a fallar
nos reimos sin miedo frente a nuestro destino
sabiendo que caer no es más que el paso previo
a surgir de ese suelo que ya conocemos
y la sangre que fluye de las heridas nuevas
ahora es solo el sembrado de nuevos recuerdos

Seguimos rezando, pidiendo un deseo
apagando las velas, susurrando en secreto
sólo eso, Dios mio, dame sólo ese algo
que lo cambiará todo, lo demás será en vano

Y al beber tantas veces de ese amargo licor
descubrimos forzados su oculta dulzura
cada trago es más dulce por haber sido amargo
y al final lo pedido sin saberlo fue dado

Knight in shining armor shot to death while trespassing private property

2008-08-14T05:12:00.009+02:00

I can just imagine the news break:

"Police are still trying to identify the mysterious knight who, early this morning was shot to death when he stampeded into number 135 of the Enchanted Forest bawling "I will save you" while brandishing a Toledan, 32 inch sword. According to the official report, the owner of the property, a woman who goes by the name of Snow White, feared for her life and that of the seven elderly, growth-impaired, men under her care and acted in self defense. In an exclusive interview to this channel, Snow White has revealed some details of the attack:

'I saw a man galloping towards the front door wielding a sword and I reacted automatically. I reached for the twelve gauge we keep in the corner, aimed at his head and fired twice.' - the poor woman stated in tears.

'The victim was completely disfigured and dental records are useless, we will have to use DNA to identify the body. It is not confirmed, but we suspect this might be your Royal Highness Prince Charming, a knight who was seen entering the woods claiming he had to save Ms. White. Apparently, he hadn't received the memo that the Wicked Witch's flight out of Boca was delayed due to a hurricane and she wouldn't be able to make it until next week.' - The police chief revealed.

This incident resembles the case just last week where Sleeping Beauty had to blind an assailant with pepper-spray when she was sexually assaulted while napping. Fortunately, her three fairy godmothers turned the rapist into a pile of dust before he could recover his sight, but it was another close call for one of the most beautiful maidens in the kingdom. The last of these women, Cinderella has testified today regarding her assaulter's apparent foot fetish in the case brought against him (an anonymous member of the royal family) for sexual harassment.

This epidemic of bad timing has forced the Happily Ever After Association to file for bankruptcy this morning while the recruitment centers for the Shining Armor Brigade are completely empty. The national census shows an alarming 85% of the population is made up of women and this year marked a new record number of vasectomies."

______________________

Why is it so damn hard? Or rather, why is Murphy such a freaking sadist??? I mean, as if "whatever can go wrong will go wrong" wasn't hard enough, now we have "whatever can go wrong will go wrong, unless of course by making it go right we can screw you over even harder." Apparently, now we, as in a murder trial, must have the means, motive AND opportunity to be successful in a relationship...any parallelisms here?

It is not enough to be passionately in love and try our hardest, but we have to get the timing right. My last relationship was with a guy who 'loved' me to death yet could not bring himself to leave his girlfriend or accept his bisexuality. Less than a year after we broke up he had come out of the closet, dumped the girlfriend and was dating a Thai flight attendant... apparently, I missed my enter cue by about a year early. Another candidate came about not soon after I had banged my head against the wall a couple thousand times for things not working out with this guy. In this case, I had missed my enter cue by about a year LATE, since he was available, smart, attractive, but I am less than two weeks away from leaving the country. Again, Murphy and God must be sharing a bucket of popcorn the size of the Coliseum (and not even getting fat) while watching the show: namely, us.

What's even more ironic, I'm willing to bet that those people who actually got the timing right face a heart-attack or bus-driving-over-your-anti-Murphy-ass related death probability of about 5000% compared to those who didn't.

Grumpy mood? Perhaps, I think it's because even though I spend most of the day thinking about what I could write, I ALWAYS get my best ideas just at that moment when my head sinks into the pillow and I start snoring lightly...gotta love Murphy.

Signed, sealed and forgotten

2008-08-13T22:33:00.004+02:00

"Grandpa died: September 23, 1995. I love you grandpa."

That's all the letter read. I had come across it while looking for things to take with me to the states. The text was clearly my handwriting on an A4 sheet neatly folded in four parts and put in an envelope titled: "details of grandpa's death." When I saw the letter a whole flood of memories came to me: I remembered my grandfather and how he used to be, his laughter and his ears (don't ask). I sat staring at the line of text for at least ten minutes remembering all these things, and then realized that, at the age of five, when my beloved "belelo" passed, my grief could be expressed in two words and a date, then filed away in a drawer and I could go on with my life. Was it ignorance, fear or simple pragmatism to bury such an event? Are we tactless as children or do we simply understand that grief is an inner process of which we sometimes show no sign?

When someone we care for dies we again turn to our masks and put up what my father usually refers to as "the circus". This includes buying new black suits and dresses, inviting relatives who barely knew the deceased, feeding them abundantly of course, and spending several months' salary on a wooden box which will spend the rest of eternity (hopefully) underground. We put make up on the deceased, make sure they look splendid for the occasion (after all, it is a special occasion, YOU'RE DEAD, smile!) and demand they be taken to their resting place in a Mercedes-Benz. I think now I understand why I simply chose to aknowledge the fact, write myself a reminder and move on, or rather truly grieve without asking for a german luxury sedan. We each grieve in our own way, but this being said, a funeral is no way to grieve at all in my opinion.

When my grandmother passed, our family again spent a fortune in the wake and funeral and put her to rest in the family mausoleum. Over 200 people showed up; the place gleamed with Armani and Versace from a mile away. When the Mercedes arrived in front of the mausoleum, and the service begun while the casket was being put into its spot, all the guests gathered around the priest who was beginning a prayer. It was a beautiful spring day, all the guests were in their best clothes and the last ceremony began. The priest was a young man in his late twenties and apparently reading wasn't his forte. Four out of every five words that came out of his mouth were mispronounced and made most people cringe. In the background, typical Spanish workers (i.e. tan men in their late forties with an average weight of 250 pounds, an average height of 4 feet and 90% of their body hair on their chest right next to their neck) were yelling orders back and forth while they passed the bricks they had to lay, occasionally dropping one and offering a truly respectful scene to those present when they bent down to reach for it...who need clowns when you have that?

Ironically, after tens of thousands of dollars spent on the whole thing, I don't remember where my grandmother's buried, what or where we ate, or most of the people that were there...but the worker's asscrack, oh that will stay for life.

Shortly after the funeral, my dad warned me that if he was ever buried in anything more expensive than a shoebox he would come back from the dead and beat the crap out of me...can't say I'm surprised. Actually, I would like the same thing: a handful of people in jeans around an old shoebox; I'm willing to bet that those people would remember the funeral and, more importantly, it would be meaningful.

Three layers of onion, one layer of lead

2008-08-13T03:13:00.003+02:00

I have always been fascinated by the process of hypnosis: a trip into your subconscious, expressing your thoughts as they form and providing a vision of yourself which is pure, unaltered. However, what seemed at first the possibility of a spiritual journey and knowing oneself better than we already do, soon turned into a possible threat. Hypnotic sessions are usually recorded since the person undergoing the treatment is not aware of what is going on. I was surprised to find out, though, that some patients are denied access to those recordings or are strongly advised against listening to them because of their content. Apparently, our true personality isn't always as pleasant as we would think. Thus, the question arises: how well do we want to know ourselves?

We create facades, layers, masks, call it what you will, for different situations. We see this process as a means not only for protection but adaptation as well. A whole variety of different "me's" are stored within us, ready for an immediate application if the circumstances require of it. For example, we modify our behavior when we socialize, when we are intimate or when we are alone. Of course there are many sub-categories within these which fine-tune our demeanor even more according to the specific surroundings we find ourselves in. We like to think that this adaptability helps not only ourselves but those around us, since we become "polite" or "appropriate".

While changing our appearance and demeanor in order to "fit in" may seem harmless in most cases, and even convenient, do we truly remember who we really are? Have we lost our own blueprints amidst the frenzy of social adaptation?

When we meet other people, especially if we begin an intimate relationship with them, we expect to peel off those layers and reach the core of the given person, hopefully to find someone we truly feel comfortable with. The process begins with "breaking the ice", our first bite at the onion, and working our way into that person's innermost thoughts. Be that as it may, we refuse to scrutinize our own selves with the same rigor. While we expect, actually demand, to know those we love completely, reprimanding them for any type of secrecy, we are contented with keeping skeletons in our own closets and burying them in layers of pseudo-personality until they are so long gone they only remain in our subconscious. Are there skeletons so disturbing that deserve a closet within the closet? Furthermore, if they come out, can we use them to our advantage or will that only prove the original purpose of our layers? Is our subconscious a vision of who we truly are or a grave never to be opened?

The carrot, the stick, and the scars they both leave...

2008-08-12T05:06:00.011+02:00

I never really understood the meaning of the expression involving a proverbial carrot and stick. According to some the metaphor in the expression involves luring someone with a reward they will never get (namely, using a stick to hold a carrot in front of the person and pulling it back every time they reach it, making it impossible for them to get to it). Others argue that this expression symbolizes reward and punishment since, if the person acts as they should, they will be rewarded (carrot), but they will be punished if they act otherwise (stick). Thus, we have two scenarios: one where we blindly and futilely seek gratification and another where we face pain but have a chance at joy...However, which rules apply if we are the ones wielding the stick and carrot in front of someone else? Should we keep our distance while offering a carrot that person will never get, hence preventing them from ever being hit with the stick, or should we offer both the carrot and the stick, holding both equally firmly?

Physically, we are reminded of the pain we once went through with our scars. Small cuts that show us how we were hurt and supposedly prevent us from repeating the same mistake. Emotionally however, those scars apparently vanish only to randomly reappear causing more pain: a song which reminds us of someone long after we thought we forgot them, a place is transformed from an address to where we once met, and an object covered in dust is suddenly a gift you once gave or received. Nevertheless, we are only too happy to give emotions a second chance and hope never to be hurt in the same place again. We tell ourselves that life is too precious to waste a single second and should take advantage of every moment and opportunity, even if we might get hurt along the way. Thus, when we relive a situation by which we once were scarred, we use the carpe diem excuse clause to plunge head-first into a most probable repetition of our failure. Even so, this is inherent in our nature; after all, we are the only animals which trip twice on the same stone....but, what if the choice was not so much to prevent our own harm but to prevent hurting the other person? If we know for a fact we will scar someone we care for if we start a relationship, is it best to prevent the wound or trust the scar will serve as a reminder of an irreplaceable experience? Is carpe diem a valid alibi to inflict pain or is it our way to heal our own scars?

Hyperspeed Activated

2008-08-11T05:32:00.004+02:00

We crave change. When faced with the possibility of an unknown future which could potentially make our dreams come true, few take the time to carefully examine to what extent they are willing to risk what dreams they have accomplished for an opportunity which offers nothing but uncertainty.

Whether we do it seeking love, a better career or simply for the heck of it, we see rolling the dice as an entryway to a new and exciting future. We see change as a promise when it is nothing but our subconscious asking "what if...". We are positive that what we leave behind fades in comparison to what awaits us in that land of opportunity.

In his poem "The Road Not Taken", Frost explores the idea of whether or not our choices determine our fate and whether or not we should question those choices after we make them. Whether one believes that choosing the road "less travelled by" was the correct choice, or even made a difference in where we ended up, it seems as if we always leaving something at the crossroads.

For me, the reality of change has struck sudden and decisively with a single text message. The person that was closest to me for the past four years of my life got on a plane and left the country. She will return within the next month, but I will no longer be here, since I as well have a plane to catch. Realizing that I have chosen my career over those I love without realizing the pain that that would cause until tonight, I can't help but ask: Is following our fantasies a noble act which holds hope for an ideal future, or an act of selfishness which hurts both ourselves and those whose company we cherish and know to love us for sure? Are we not, in a way, saying that we want more? That what we leave behind is not good enough? Again, are we being reasonably hopeful or simply taking a chance on change with the odds stacked against us?

Of course, we can't do anything about this since we won't know the answers to these questions until we reach the end of our trip, and trace our steps back to those crossroads seeing if we chose the correct road. Until then, we can only dream that what awaits us is worth our choice, and that our dreams of change hold the key to a happiness so gratifying it is worth hurting others in order to achieve.

The Road Not Taken

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth; 5

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same, 10

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back. 15

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference. 20

- Robert Frost

http://www.bartleby.com/119/1.html

The Infinite Improbability Drive

2008-08-08T03:08:00.002+02:00

In Douglas Adams' series of 'The Hitchhiker's Guide To the Galaxy' the author creates this futuristic drive which has as a purpose that of creating situations so improbable that they could only occur knowing the exact factor of their improbability. For example, at a given factor of improbability, this drive turns two missiles headed towards the protagonists' ship into a sperm whale, which questions its existence, the meaning of its meaningless life and its future as it plunges towards the rocky surface of a nearby planet several thousand miles below, and a bowl of petunias.

If I had to take a shot in the dark, I would say that the improbability factor of me reopening this blog two years after the last entry was posted is somewhere around 1,000,000,000 to 1 against. Futuristic drives and sperm whales notwithstanding, you have to laugh to yourself when you find that you are exactly in the place where you were certain you wouldn't end up. Obviously, the infinite improbability drive was introduced long ago, but is usually referred to as: LIFE.

I came across this blog accidentally as I rummaged through my old school files. When I entered it (after reactivating it) and read my previous entries, I couldn't help but gawk strangely at the lines I had written and see how I have changed.

So...where am I now...what has changed?

Academically, the path is just beginning, but I never thought I would take the steps that have led me to where I stand today. When I first created this blog, an education in the States seemed like a dream, a fantasy...today, it's a reality. I won't say that it took "blood, toil, tears and sweat" for that would clearly be an exaggeration (God knows I have never stressed over my schoolwork); however, I have accomplished more than I had dreamt of. After going through the IB program and successfully obtaining a bilingual diploma, writing an extended essay, going through the joys of community service and the journey to the inner self that Theory of Knowledge provides, I actually had an academic chance at a scholarship for an American university. Again, even with the grades, it seemed like the impossible dream and I readily prepared for a career at a university in Madrid with a possibly definite future in Spain. However, as things turned out, the economic impossibilities that once were there, vanished in weeks; there was now hope. After sending out applications to 18 American universities, I was accepted into 7 and offered a scholarship at all of those. Now, I'm packing my bags and getting ready to start a new chapter in my life, moving to Boston for the next five years. Who ever said dreams can't come true?

Emotionally, these two years have proven that life never gets boring. Friends have turned into enemies, enemies into friends and both have come and gone as is natural. Nevertheless, as I get ready to embark in my newest adventure, I can't help but look back and notice that it is precisely because I am leaving that I know who I am closest to. I guess you could say that distance and loss are excellent filters when it comes to distinguishing acquaintances from true love, whether it be friendly or otherwise. Sadly though, I fear that, even if I try my hardest at keeping in touch, those who I truly cherished will fall into the same pit of forgetfulness as those who never meant anything. There will be new friends, lovers, and simple acquaintances but...as we go through life, do they all progressively end up in the same place? Are our memories souvenirs of a feeling that once was, or parts of the feeling itself? Whatever the case, I wouldn't change the people I have met, or the moments I have lived in these two years for the world. Heartbreaks and tears have led to laughter and love and I expect the cycle to continue that way.

The reason for this new entry was my attempt to build a time capsule to take with me to Boston, to make sure I never forget; objects and documents which reflect cherished moments: successes, failures and everyone that made those moments precious. Ironically, this blog has served as a time capsule on its own, waiting silently in cyberspace, reminding me today of how I was and what I believed to be important several years ago. Thus, in the same way that I now examine objects, and more importantly thoughts from the past, I would like to make sure that this blog continues, not so much so that it can rise from its ashes, but rather pile up on them and become another milestone on which to comment several years from now.

Caught in the middle

2006-01-08T10:33:00.000+01:00

It seems like we’re in the worst place to be, chronologically speaking. We are no longer children and have lost that innocence that could make a table be a secret cave, a lego kit the entry to a new world and where anything could be what you wanted it to be. We no longer consider kissing a girl as “icky” or laugh when we hear words like “nipple” (well, some of us do), and, in many occasions, we crave returning to those days. In my opinion, we have gained nothing in exchange for so large a loss. Sure, we have gained futile rights such as extended curfews, being taken more seriously or going to discos....but, was it really worth it? Sure, call me Peter Pan, but, up to date, I haven’t seen many benefits from growing up. The time for “boys catch girls” has passed (or strangely developed) and, in return, we got a realistic painting of the world where Santa Claus is really your parents struggling to buy presents worrying about the amount of money they spend, where you can no longer spend your days playing. Sure, we all need to know what responsibilities are and how to handle them, but, I think, that spark that made our eyes light up when we saw the Christmas tree should never die, and should not be killed by the impact of realism. It’s as if we were running blidfonded through a garden, and when the bandage was removed, the countryside was not what we expected. Basically it’s a “Here it is, take it or go” but it’s not in the least what we thought it would be like, well, at least not for all of us. Emotionally it means realising that the people you love are not perfect, and not what you thought they were, or maybe yes, but it means knowing, and precisely because of that, the innocence is killed, once you are no longer an ignorant, you are not innocent. Facing reality means “chin up and push forward” and looking around you and wanting to go back to the days where problems only existed in your nightmares. In a way, it means taking control of your life, unlike before, when everything was set and done for you...and, in the same way you struggle when you firt ride your bicycle without training wheels, in our current situation we are struggling. We discover feelings we never thought would come and situations which were previously inimaginable. All this means we are now responsible for writing our own destiny, since now it’s our call, every day that passes we are more independent, and it is up to us to bring happiness or tears to our life. Even though we are getting closer to the day when we will be on our own and completely independent, that spark in our eyes still is present (it still shows when we see babies or romantic movies), but even so, that flame is more and more of a nostalgia for a lost time than what it used to be.

"Paying a debt"

2006-01-06T00:40:00.000+01:00

Today has been the last day of Bolivia's new president to Spain. As usual, our dearly beloved President has put o his best (and fakest) smile for the camera and his Bolivian "friend". Every time Zapatero smiles like he has nothing on his mind, it is precisely because of this, and today, he has once again proved it. If you have turned on the tv throughout the last two or three months, you must have noticed at least 3 or 4 terrorist attacks, flooding, earthquakes, or other tragedies that occur throughout the world at a staggering rate. One of the comments posted on my last entry stated that:

"there is not enough money in Spain to feed and clothe all the poor children in Africa. However, is it fair that this baby starves because it was born on the other side of a mile of water?"

to that I have to say that, indeed there is not enough money, but if we do things like the one Zapatero did today, there will be even less money to give to the immigration issue.

Today, Zapatero payed off part of a "Historical Debt" that Spain supposedly had with Bolivia because of our "bloody and ruthless conquer of their lands" 500 years ago when the new world was discovered. Zapatero might as well fly off to Bolivia and start thrwing money out the plane window. What kind of historical debt do we have? In my opinion, Bolivia has a debt from us; if it weren't for the Spanish conquer of the americas, progress in those areas would have come much later (I don't just say that because I want to, if we look at the development of both civilisations: the Incas and the Spanish, we see an abyss of technology between them) The land Bolivia is in today, was a no-man's land before the Spanish even arrived. The territory was deserted by the Tiwanaku around 1200 A.D and then annexed to the Inca empire (something not considered barbaric or ruthless) around 1450. When the Spanish arrived to the Americas, that land had only been inhabited for the last 40 years, not even one generation. Right now, there is a steady flow of immigration to Spain from latin-american countries, mainly because of the fact that Spain, like latin america, is a Spanish-speaking country...a bit ironic...not only are we paying the debt of conquering the Inca empire in Bolivian lands in 1525 with an immigration flood but in cash as well. If it weren't for the language, the immigrants now fleeing latin-america would diversify their destinations, since they would have to learn a new language anyway.

Going back to immigration, and the comment posted on the last entry, I find that the "poor, starving baby" should in fact, be fed and returned to it's home country. If we want to help, isn't it more practical to try and help people regain their culture and lifestyle rather than burdening our own allowing them to flee to our country? Wouldn't it be more efficient to help out, between all the nations by donating more money, goods and clothes? Helping out does not mean "Come in, free admission", it should mean "Hold on, keep fighting, we will help you", however if this country's government keeps giving away money (taking away from what the former government left in the national treasure) to a country which has never been formally recognized as an ally, there will come a day when they reach in the bag and there's no more left. The fact that a man in a hand-made sweater walks into Moncloa demanding money for something that happened 500 years ago is serious. What's even more serious is that we actually give him the money and with a lot of "tolerance and good will" pull down our pants.

Maybe I have mixed together two issues which seemingly, have nothing in common, so let me clarify my position on both these issues. Spain's current government is digging deep into the country's pockets (which were filled by the former government and will have to be refilled as soon as it is re-elected) and giving away money like there is no tomorrow. When the government's official economic estimates stated in the year 2004 that the oil barrel would remain at $30 for the next five years, we got an idea of how disorganized our economy was, and now that we pay off historical debts whenever we are asked to, we get an even clearer picture. Back to immigration, that starving kid is both a mediatized figure (since everyone cries and gives money when they see that but don't give a **** about physically or mentally handicapped people, terminal patients, or other groups which are talked about less since they don't have cute kids which can look into a camera and say: "Help me" with a smile) and an example of this country's inefficiency while dealing with immigration. That kid should be fed, cuddled and properly clothed, and then deported back. If a country is in need of help, others should help,not by opening up the boundaries and saying "come in, free rights" but by helping the other country regain it's lifestyle and quality. Some people say "look at the starving kid, we should give him free rights we don't even have", I say "Use the money we give away to latin-american crooks to really help that kid instead of just allowing him rights we don't even have with our own taxes"

Immigration

2005-11-28T18:55:00.000+01:00

Picking up from where we left off: Immigration. In the last few months, we have seen how avalanche after avalanche of immigrants entered Ceuta and Melilla illegally. I understand the causes of immigration perfectly: we live in a civilized and relatively rich country were opportunities are abroad, and people who are less lucky and have a chance to come here, try to do so. We need immigration since right now the immigrants in Spain are the main economic engine: they have the jobs Spaniards don’t want and they’re the ones that work the hardest. The problems arise when two circumstances are given:

- Illegal immigrants are given rights which Spanish citizens pay for, free.
- Illegal immigrants which conduct illegal activities arrive

The situation created in the first of these cases is completely illogical. Take, for example, one out of the many pregnant women which cross the strait of Gibraltar and arrive successfully to Spanish coasts. Since her baby will be born in Spain, she is given:

- The right for her child to attend a nursery school for free
- Social security for her and her child for free
- The right to get financial aid from the government while she is not working (paro)

In the second case, the good name the hard working immigrants have earned themselves in Spain is shattered to pieces. Each time we hear that an illegal immigrant kills someone or one of the “Latin King” bands controls entire sections of the city or small cities in which the police won’t even dare enter, we generalize and apply that reputation to all immigrants…an unfair but very realistic policy. Not only have those who commit illegal acts shamed the rest of the immigrants. As well, many immigrants which arrive to Spain are creating serious conflicts because of their reluctance to adapt. As in every situation, balance is needed: an immigrant can maintain all of his customs and traditions as long as they don’t go against the law. Real-life example: a Muslim woman walks into a hospital in Spain about to give birth to her baby. At the entrance, facial identification is needed to fill out a record (no cost whatsoever) and the man going with her says that no one but himself will see his wife: she will not unveil her face. With all due respect to the tradition the veil involves; that woman is about to give birth to a baby which will be considered Spanish and be given full rights, she will remain in the hospital for some days (no cost, again) and she doesn’t even have the decency of allowing the receptionist to see her face??? I’m sorry but, in my opinion, illegal immigrants are given plenty of rights and privileges, and all that’s asked for in exchange is adaptation to a small degree. Not only are they not deported on the spot when they arrive to Spain, but they are allowed many rights which are like a dream come true, and this is what we have? Warnings at hospitals since the immigrants residing there temporarily are stealing valuable objects? Having a picture of a woman with a veil on an ID?

Immigration is a current and very serious issue Spain faces and is not solving. Not six months ago, the current government passed a series of laws in which during a period of several days, any illegal immigrant with any ridiculous way of being identified as a resident (bus ticket) would be completely legalized. That sounds great, but truth is that, that means more taxes to pay and can even cause further trouble. The incidents at Ceuta and Melilla have just been more noticeable than the everyday reports we see on TV about fifty immigrants arriving at the beaches of the South coast illegally.

Politics 101

2005-11-28T18:52:00.000+01:00

I said I would talk about politics, and I think they’re a pretty good topic to begin with today.

The more I read on how Spain’s government is working, the more I get the impression it’s not. The justice system is completely inefficient, immigration floods our borders, our foreign relations are pitiful and the whole unity of the country’s falling apart…when he observes all this, our president…smiles.

I’ll start out with the legal system: obsolete and useless. To begin with, the philosophy, in my opinion, is completely erroneous: other countries believe that the law is there to punish offences committed…our philosophy is that the law should “encourage that poor soul which has simply committed a mistake (kill 25 people for example) and re-insert him into society so he can learn from his mistakes.” I don’t know what your opinion is, but personally, I don’t want to be in a society with killers and rapists. When I say the legal system doesn’t work, I don’t just say it; let me list some facts so you get an idea…

- According to the Spanish penal code:

o No Citizen can spend more than 30 years in prison, irrelevant of what he has been sentenced to.

o The provisional liberty is applied when 1/3 OF 30 YEARS (10) has passed…not when 1/3 of the time of the original sentence has.

o People in prison get time off if they work while at prison. Why?

o People in prison are allowed to attend university (public, financed with our money) and graduate with a career.

I think the best definition of the legal system’s efficiency I’ve heard yet came from a lawyer I talked to…she said (and I quote): “If you really hate someone, and are willing to lose 3 years in the worse case…kill him. You probably won’t get caught, they most certainly won’t manage to prove it was you, and if you go to prison, since you don’t have a criminal record, you’ll be out of there in 20 months or so.” Needless to say, this is scary…someone condemned to a 40-year sentence (maximum time for murder) gets out after 20 months??? The justice system simply doesn’t work.

Weird and Proud

2005-11-08T23:02:00.000+01:00

I’m weird, and proud of it. Honestly, from what I see around me, I prefer being the weird one, call me marginated, call me what you wish. What I see is more hypocresy than ever before: people don’t say what they think and most of the times they don’t even know what they think because they’re so prone to follow someone else’s lead that they eliminate their own basis of thought in order to “match” with the group and be “one more” instead of simply being different in opinion and having different ideas. Of course, putting all your ideas behind and following someone just because he/she’s “cool” is the easy thing to do...it’s like sheep being herded to the slaughter, they feel no pain or don’t wonder why they’re going there...They blindly trust the shepard, which they follow without once doubting. What they don’t know is that the shepard will eventually have lamb chops with what’s left of them. What’s my point? Right now friendship is a word said many times and meant in very rare occasions. No one cares if they do right or wrong, fair or unfair, they just “go with the flow”, with the herd. All that matters nowadays for teens is being “in” and “cool”...no matter if they have to leave their brains at the door, no matter if that means betraying a person you’ve known all your life...why should it? You’re in, he’s not...that’s that. What’s worse is people who can manage to figure this all out and even tell you how they have ideas which they defend, yet in a 24 hour margin you see how they can play on both sides. I hate people which double-side. Why is it people feel they have an obligation to keep everyone happy? That’s virtually impossible, and making some people mad at you means siding with someone...it means taking road A or B, defending one set or ideas or another...instead of waltzing around the place smiling constantly with nothing of your own in your head, trying to make everybody like you.

Ironically, what they teach us is that having a “strong personality” is what counts, and I truly believe it does count, but it brings you more troubles and doubts than joys; it also implies doing things the hard way. As I said before, I’m proud of being “the weird one”, since I truly believe in certain ideals, and I know that no matter how cool someone is: to beggin with, I wouldn’t go with him/her because of that and, secondly, if going with him/her meant taking his ideas as mine, forget about it. Having said this, I do feel a bit impotent for all the people which I see are blindly following people which aren’t worth a minute of their time. It’s like seeing a building start to burn down and seeing that the people inside wave at you and laugh when you try to warn them. Theoretically, it shouldn’t bother me; after all, everyone does what they want with their lives, but...it does...it does because I see how all my friends, people which I’ve known for many years, which are excellent people, now decay and go completely blind following others which are basically in need of attention...amazingly enough, they manage to get it pretty easily. I guess I cling to the hope that they’ll open their eyes someday...who knows. What I can’t accept is people turning their backs on life-long friends because of fashion statements basically. If you think logically, you become the weird one, if you point out pros and cons, you’re the weird one...I wonder if someday I’ll look back and think I didn’t have an adolescence...think that I didn’t enjoy those years to the limit...however, if the limits are what people do now...I don’t want to be a teenager...as I said, I’m weird and proud of it. I honestly don't care about being “in” or not...but I do care about my ideas and defending them, rather than selling them in exchange for a “you’re cool” pass.

What you can get for ten grand...

2005-10-26T18:19:00.000+02:00

God, this is a busy week. We have two upcoming tests which will basically determine our grades for the quarter and we’re reading a book which everyone loves, everyone except me apparently. The main character is the type of person which I hate with all my might. Holden Caulfied: a kid with problems…so what? Don’t we all have out own problems? Not because of that do we go around breaking widows, punching people or other similar stupidities. What bothers me most is the fact that there are many Holden Caulfields in my school and grade.

People need to feel they suffer like the rest to calm their conscience, especially at ASM: A school where people pay $10.000 a year for getting a proper education…and you see people listening to songs of revolution and how life is hard and how they have to kill, rap and smoke to survive…how in the world is any of that similar with the life of any student at ASM? They’re not precisely living under a bridge…so to speak. Because students here have basically anything they want, I suppose they want to fix more challenging goals for themselves like: drinking, smoking, doing graffiti and vandalizing stuff like wild monkeys (sounds manly and mature huh?) It’s as if they were ashamed of being wealthy and needed to calm their conscience by reassuring themselves that they are “street kids”…please! Can you get to be any more hypocrite? Of course we all have problems, but there are two ways of dealing with them: relying on the people who care for you and which you care for and accepting life’s not fair, or acting childishly saying life has cursed you and you are a poor martyr of society which will take revenge by opposing any figure of authority available and establish anarchy in the world…10 grand, and you get that? God knows why, but the luckiest people economically speaking are the ones which most imitate the less lucky ones. A year ago, and still this year, it was “fashion” to take a $100 jean and cut it up and wear super baggy pants that gave the impression they were going to fall off there and then…the guy didn’t have money for a belt? I don’t think so! Besides the stupidity shown in several fashion statements…politics is also influencing teenagers at ASM in a peculiar way…now, the “coolest of the coolest” are anarchist, Marxist-Leninists, or something like that….people! They have trouble articulating those words correctly, let alone understand them! Strangely enough, when you have people which can have almost anything they want, they bite the hand that feeds them. Not only that, but then they go and join political movements which they don’t understand at all just because they want to go against authority I mean 90% of the people wearing a Che Guevara shirt don’t even know what he did or why he did it! That’s what kills me of Holden and people like him: They brag about politics, the world and how society decays when they don’t even know how to tie their shoes. They think they’re the center of the world and everyone should pity or admire them because they move on in life with Christian resignation…furthermore, they express their…”frustration” by vandalizing public and private property, which we’ll end up paying for in taxes. They think their problems should be the center of everyone’s attention…We all have problems but only immature, spoiled kids like Holden Caulfield or people like him think they should be rewarded for enduring them.

Zeros and Ones

2005-10-24T22:07:00.000+02:00

Haven’t you noticed how it’s so easy to say things that we feel online instead of in real life? This reminds me of a movie I saw not too long ago: You’ve Got Mail (Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks) kind of sad, but recommendable for rainy days. Truth is I expect to get some kind of answers to my questions in this blog but…I know I won’t, after all, it’s an anonymous English class assignment, what can come out of it? Anyways, I think it is at least useful to simply throw these questions and problems out there…To be completely honest, I’m saying anything that comes to mind to try not to speak about the problem that really worries me.

I argued with a friend of mine over a week ago and still haven’t settled out differences. The problem, or advantage, depending on your point of view, is that I don’t know him…he’s an online friend. It’s ironic how you can only know someone through a computer and still call him your friend. As they say in “You’ve Got Mail”, one of the good things of online relationships is that you always end up talking about something; it might be something as ridiculous as sports, the weather, week-end plans, whatever but to some extent, a friendship is formed. Anyways, this cyber-friend of mine got really upset over something I don’t consider specially serious and, maybe because of my reaction (he thought I lied to him in a conversation (I didn’t, just for the record) and I don’t have any way to prove I’m right), or maybe because of both our prides, we haven’t talked yet. I tried talking with him but he won’t listen…over a week’s gone by and I’m not really sure how this is going to end. You would think that with a simple right-click “delete contact” on my messenger it would be enough; after all, all I know of him is simply a combination of zeros and ones so, what should it matter? I’m afraid it really does…you can say that he might not be the person I know if I met him in the street but, I haven’t, and the cyber-version of him which I have met, I like and don’t want to lose. One of the disadvantages of being only online is that he can simply get rid of his problems by blocking or deleting me, in real life you see each other every day, which eventually forces you to talk…here, I might not talk to him ever again…who knows? He probably just deleted me after the conversation…which scares me because I though I meant more to him than just a bunch of numbers…it might be him, it might be my paranoia (we might end up laughing tomorrow about all this) but right now this esoteric combination of zeros and ones which make up my friend and I is giving me more problems than any real-life relation…ironic.

Falling stars

2005-10-20T22:13:00.000+02:00

During this last week I couldn't help but notice how every time I woke up in the mornings I found two or three small, sticky pieces of plastic on my bed and I wondered where they were coming from. I normally sleep with the light that's in the hallway next to my room turned on, however last night our maid turned it off and I forgot to turn it back on. When I got into my bed and looked at the ceiling I saw that there were about 20 shining stars on it. It took me a while to remember that over 10 years ago, when I first came to the house I live in ('94) I got a pack of these shiny star stickers and put them all over the ceiling. The stars of course made no sense and looked like the background from a cheap sci-fi movie (I had 4 moons, each at a different phase and 5 shining stars all coming from differnt directions besides the normal stars which were all over the place) but they were still there. They were still shining, even though they had faded out through the years.

When I think back to the time I put those up I can't help but notice how things have changed. Of course trivial changes have occured: new restaurants, cinemas, cafés, you name it; but those aren't important. What I remember most is people and how, due to the school we got to, they come and go constantly, making friendship hard at times. I think you could easily divide students at ASM into two kinds: the ones that have been here pretty much since "the beginning" and those who, because of their parents' jobs will probably leave in a 1-5 year period. It's sad how you can have a great friendship with someone and have it killed because of their departure; no matter what people say, long distance friendships or other relationships don't work. Normally when someone is new to the school and leaves before a year or two, unless they really hit it off with the people there, the ties are not very hard to break. However when you have the opposite case: someone comes and leaves after 5 years at ASM, you really got to know them, to laugh with them and go places with them and that basically dies out as he/she leaves and you stay to start another year with new friendships which may in turn break up because of this same rule.

Going back to my starting point (to get carried away in a couple of lines), these stars made me think of how things were 10 years ago. I remembered my birthdays at Discovery Zone in "El Torreon" where three plastic tube-labs were a quizzical labyrinth for us in which any impossible thing could occur. I remembered one of the pictures I got taken at one of my DZ birthdays and remembered the people in it. Some of them have left and we never knew anything about them, other have come and gone and others have remained, but those which remained have changed drastically over the years, whether for good or for bad...I'm not sure. Every new year friendships are strengthened or weakened, depending on the various events that take place in our lives, and this year I feel like many of the friendships have been weakened. I see false smiles up front, back-stabbing with a straight face and fake emotions much more than I used to...that's not good. Most of the people which have either started out or ended up with us has affected our way of treating people...I think that now we refuse to be completely honest with our friends and think twice before saying what we mean. There's a Spanish saying, which translated into English goes something like this: "You should be able to count your true friends with a hand's fingers and still have fingers left over". Even if that is true, does that mean that we should lie and act falsely in front of those which aren't the best of friends? In a way, the stars that once surrounded us, some of which we never really saw as precious, are falling or fading out...

Rainy Days

2005-10-18T17:13:00.000+02:00

It’s raining, at last in Madrid. We’ve needed this rain for months now and finally, here it is. The sanctions imposed by the government on water consumption have affected our everyday lives. In my own building, an official letter posted on the elevator door informed all the neighbours about the new water policy and the sanctions for not following the new regulations (up to 46.000E!). Luckily, the new regulations didn’t limit the amount allowed for personal use, but all plant watering and mass water consumption was forbidden. If we’re lucky, it will rain throughout the week. Even if coming and going to and from school on my motorbike isn’t very comfortable when it’s raining, it’s good for Madrid.

It’s pretty curious how weather affects people. Some people get thrilled when rainy days come, others get utterly depressed and others remain neutral. I guess I’m in the group which remains more or less unaffected by this weather, however this semi-isolation makes me think about many things. When we’re finally alone, and at times like these, when we just write out what we feel, we really get to think of certain things we usually don’t have time for. The routine we follow every single weekday basically keeps us busy and away from any kind of personal questioning. We go and come from school, do our homework, watch TV, have dinner, chat with friends, get up, shower, and start all over again. I’m not going to go into specifics on what my “rainy day thoughts” are, but, what I will say is that I think it’s pretty sad how we can only think of things that really matter on “rainy” moments. I will also say that when we think about important things only to ourselves, we’re not at all impartial, and that’s the real danger of self-reflexion, there’s no one there to say “you’re kidding right?”…you either blame all your worries on yourself or you blame them on others…none of those are good policies. Of course, this has nothing to do with the weather; any moment where everything stops or slows down our regular routine allows for a time of thought. If nothing stops the wheel then we just worry about out everyday lives; our most serious problem is the test coming up next week or a project that you turned in late…trifles. It’s not until you really stop and take some time for yourself that you see what’s serious and what’s not, and even when you do, a couple of hours later you forget all about that and simply go on with your life, going back to your everyday worries which don’t let you see anything but a short-term vision of life.