Estaba asustada, no se sabe bien por qué.
Vao pé a investigaur.
2013/05/08
2013/05/02
Diálogo entre una numeraria y una puta que solían ser compañeras de banco.
Hola Katia como estás!
Katia sigue de largo.
Katia sigue de largo.
2013/03/21
Postcards from Somme-where
-Si querés te digo como me siento. Si querés te digo que a veces me siento morir.
El reloj de pared hacía lo suyo y el te se entibiaba. La dama de la ventana miró a una hormiga muerta pegada a la cortina de raso y con un movimiento que mal tapaba la torpeza de ese índice la despegó, para que cayera marmorizada al piso caoba... de caoba.
-Que hace treinta y cinco años que mi marido me guardó en un cajón... de la cocina para más... ridículo, pero vergonzosamente cierto. Me metí ahí al darme cuenta que lo necesitaba, y lo hice sonriendo como una gran tonta, y ahí - acá - estoy. Ya ves, concentrado en sus idioteces, operando según una torcida agenda subconciente, viviendo mal con ganas, me ha abandonado. No me mires así.
El reloj de pared hacía lo suyo y el te se entibiaba. La dama de la ventana miró a una hormiga muerta pegada a la cortina de raso y con un movimiento que mal tapaba la torpeza de ese índice la despegó, para que cayera marmorizada al piso caoba... de caoba.
-Que hace treinta y cinco años que mi marido me guardó en un cajón... de la cocina para más... ridículo, pero vergonzosamente cierto. Me metí ahí al darme cuenta que lo necesitaba, y lo hice sonriendo como una gran tonta, y ahí - acá - estoy. Ya ves, concentrado en sus idioteces, operando según una torcida agenda subconciente, viviendo mal con ganas, me ha abandonado. No me mires así.
2013/03/16
Marzo
Empezás muy lentamente a reconocer que tu viaje.
Por favor, volvé, te fuiste.
Es que hay momentos, y no son pocos, en que no estoy más donde estoy. Ya van más de dos años de tener por horas y horas delante de mis ojos a Senz´Anima, Delitto e Castigo, Rex Theodericus, Doctor Zhivago y Cosi mi distraggo un pò debajo de un The Who puesto al revés. La configuración de espejos oníricos y asociaciones está en un delicado record de perfección, no por lo perfecta, que no es, sino por lo adecuada.
Con las lluvias de fin de marzo lavando las ventanas es casi patológico. Un momento estoy leyendo el slogan de Rotoloni Regina, el siguiente estoy parada en la sala del apartamento de Punta del Este, con las luces apagadas pero la inundación de luz azul... el aire fresco de los pinos en la placita de Doña Flor y ese algo indescriptible de tener entre 15 y 24... y a veces basta algo así, haciendo convenientemente eco en mis ánforas tantas, a veces basta para encogerme en una bola de dolor y salir disparada al futuro, o sea el presente y La moneta romana.
Por favor, volvé, te fuiste.
Es que hay momentos, y no son pocos, en que no estoy más donde estoy. Ya van más de dos años de tener por horas y horas delante de mis ojos a Senz´Anima, Delitto e Castigo, Rex Theodericus, Doctor Zhivago y Cosi mi distraggo un pò debajo de un The Who puesto al revés. La configuración de espejos oníricos y asociaciones está en un delicado record de perfección, no por lo perfecta, que no es, sino por lo adecuada.
Con las lluvias de fin de marzo lavando las ventanas es casi patológico. Un momento estoy leyendo el slogan de Rotoloni Regina, el siguiente estoy parada en la sala del apartamento de Punta del Este, con las luces apagadas pero la inundación de luz azul... el aire fresco de los pinos en la placita de Doña Flor y ese algo indescriptible de tener entre 15 y 24... y a veces basta algo así, haciendo convenientemente eco en mis ánforas tantas, a veces basta para encogerme en una bola de dolor y salir disparada al futuro, o sea el presente y La moneta romana.
2013/03/09
Estás Ahí
Estás, ahí, un tiempo. En un lugar que no sabés bien cómo describir, que te duele hasta que te digan que te comprenden porque sabés bien que eso, eso es imposible. No tiene sal repetir las mismas frases comunes y aceptadas, tipo y así nomás luego es... aunque tengan una fascinación muy particular y un sorprendente poder anestético. O almenos insisto en que es vulgar quedarse exclusivamente en ellas, no da gusto quedarse con trillados dichitos que describen lo infinito, que en vez de resumir la realidad te rebajan a vos, así que ya no satisfacen. Debidas ecepciones concedidas. Necesitás almenos hacerte preguntas, no darte explicaciones simplistas (o peor, de yedi ñembo sabio) de haragán desinteresado y pila. Callate, qué lo que explicás? Y qué lo que explico yo? Que no cuestionarse es una comodidad vulgar y, para mi insoportable. Qué sé yo, diría alguien. Al mismo tiempo, menos mal que la tragedia y la comedia nos hace raza. Menos mal que nos sabemos sentir identificados. Menos mal que si bien no entendemos todo, ni siquiera lo decente, tenemos características comunes en la inmadurez de nuestra lenta especie, en los defectos psíquicos de esta versión beta que somos de nosotros mismos. Y así con lo poco que entendemos, supuestamente nos ocupamos y tratamos, angá, de trazar un esperanzado sistema de comprensión. Tal vez sea involuntario, celular tipo. O capaz nomás lo ideal sería entender todo y justamente dedicarse a la propia pasión.
Decía, estás ahí, y comprendés conceptualmente que es un trecho del camino que te toca transitar en la niebla pero admitamos que saberlo no necesariamente basta para saltar en una pata. Hablás y ni el eco. La idea de que es un trecho de un camino que contiene tambien trechos soleados es poco consolante cuando pasan mil y despues dos mil días de niebla, pero es la semilla del arbol que te salvará. Esa semilla, la certeza de que la cosa ésta de existir está emocionante porque andá a saber qué va a pasar, es demasiado maravillosa y especial para dejar nomás pasar. Puede que yazca escondida, adentro tuyo... y lo mismo sirve y lo mismo te salva....quién dijo que tenés derecho a ver el crecimiento del tejido?... a veces después de años de repente te despertás y te encontrás el olmo adulto en el patio. Hace falta paciencia, si, si, ya se que es el lado lindo de la pereza. Pero 'vo regale nomá'... cuando se planta una semilla en la tierra, digo, no es que se pueda pretender al día siguiente colgarse de la rama... el arbol para agradecerte salvándote debe ser primero salvado por vos... o almenos su existencia no debería ser amenazada por vos y por tu completa falta de perspectiva.
Decía. Estás ahí. Tus recuerdos se mezclan con tus fantasías, divagás en finales distintos a momentos que estás convencido que viviste, te arremolinás en el acostumbrado detalle inútil recordado a la perfección mientras ves naufragar cosas, personas y momentos que fueron mucho más significativas, pluff, en el oceano del olvido, o allá donde dice Dolina que están todas las bolitas. Y decía, saber que esto no es permanente es una salvación, pero el concepto del tiempo va perdiendo los contornos y a veces sinceramente no te acordás en qué año estamos... pero,
PERO
llega algo, casi siempre - qué? decís, - sí, te respondo, casi siempre, desde lo onírico, llega a salvarte o destruirte, como el brazo terrorífico de Cloverfield que en el último instante atrapa al helicóptero que habría salvado a los protagonistas.
Y la buena noticia es que desde ahí donde estás lo vas a saber reconocer.
2013/02/09
espressa
Como me pasa siempre después de comunicar con alguna de mis compañeras de colegio, tengo ganas de expresarme, de reconocerme cual fui... vengo acá como una pila a intentarlo y ya van cuatro borradores inutiles y ya me perdí. Cómo cuesta retomar el hilo cuando el hilo fue bombardeado. No subestimar la hazaña. A ver entonces, decime vos como se llega de ahí hasta acá.
2013/01/23
Folktales of an Immigrant Italian Family in the Lush Tropical Paradise
Había una vez una niña llamada Carolina.
Otra vez con eso?
Y sí.
Bueno, entonces, dale.
Había nacido en un momento innovador, valeroso, zarpado y positivo de su familia que ya entonces existía desde hacía 15 años como un núcleo de 4 personas, y que después de docenas de mudanzas y vaivenes se instauraba por su nacimiento, oficial y crisis-de-media-edad-mente, en Asunción del Paraguay, inmigrando como muchos aventureros en generaciones anteriores, desde Italia.
Carolina creció creyendo en la magia, en el bien como vencedor final obligatorio, en que ella y su gente eran evidentemente protagonistas con una misión importante cuanto ambigua, y en que todo es posible. Dotada de muchos talentos, tenía la urgencia de llevarlos a una buena fruición, digamos, y tuvo la suerte de que sus iniciativas siempre encontraron el apoyo y soporte necesario en sus seres más queridos: así que fue dando muchos pasos exitosos a una joven edad, reforzando aún más su visión positivista y trascendentalista del mundo.
Una prodigio.
Y si. Por ejemplo, era una alumna fenomenal. Se destacó desde un principio como personaje creativo, musical y de brillantes recursos mentales que en lo inmediato le procuraban aplausos de cómico. Carolina comenzó a tocar el piano a los 6 años y para los 16 había terminado el conservatorio coincidiendo con el año de ser mejor promedio de su secundaria.
Ay, qué exagerado.
No te estoy jodiendo.
Esperá me via ir avenir.
Otra vez con eso?
Y sí.
Bueno, entonces, dale.
Había nacido en un momento innovador, valeroso, zarpado y positivo de su familia que ya entonces existía desde hacía 15 años como un núcleo de 4 personas, y que después de docenas de mudanzas y vaivenes se instauraba por su nacimiento, oficial y crisis-de-media-edad-mente, en Asunción del Paraguay, inmigrando como muchos aventureros en generaciones anteriores, desde Italia.
Carolina creció creyendo en la magia, en el bien como vencedor final obligatorio, en que ella y su gente eran evidentemente protagonistas con una misión importante cuanto ambigua, y en que todo es posible. Dotada de muchos talentos, tenía la urgencia de llevarlos a una buena fruición, digamos, y tuvo la suerte de que sus iniciativas siempre encontraron el apoyo y soporte necesario en sus seres más queridos: así que fue dando muchos pasos exitosos a una joven edad, reforzando aún más su visión positivista y trascendentalista del mundo.
Una prodigio.
Y si. Por ejemplo, era una alumna fenomenal. Se destacó desde un principio como personaje creativo, musical y de brillantes recursos mentales que en lo inmediato le procuraban aplausos de cómico. Carolina comenzó a tocar el piano a los 6 años y para los 16 había terminado el conservatorio coincidiendo con el año de ser mejor promedio de su secundaria.
Ay, qué exagerado.
No te estoy jodiendo.
Esperá me via ir avenir.
2012/12/22
2012/12/19
Home II
Here it is again
like a butterfly in a ray of sun
flying slow motion
and I´m really here,
or am I not?
It´s that feeling I get
when, if I had whatever the hell it takes
to get up from where I´m probably, what, plopping?
and got my ears into phones
and my ass onto the taburet
and the ten soldiers of my soul
all bursting with anticipation
on the cool glistening keys,
in the place they call
`Home!´,
I think I´d create
something unforgettable.
How can someone
be crazy enough to
pass up
on a ride like that?
And not just once,
but again?
What?!
Biding my time for too long?
Lost in the intent of suspension?
Ignoring the advent of Sir Winter?
Stretching the slomo too far
for the laws that be?
Not caring enough?
Maybe this
is the classic case
of something
better
forgotten.
For now.
like a butterfly in a ray of sun
flying slow motion
and I´m really here,
or am I not?
It´s that feeling I get
when, if I had whatever the hell it takes
to get up from where I´m probably, what, plopping?
and got my ears into phones
and my ass onto the taburet
and the ten soldiers of my soul
all bursting with anticipation
on the cool glistening keys,
in the place they call
`Home!´,
I think I´d create
something unforgettable.
How can someone
be crazy enough to
pass up
on a ride like that?
And not just once,
but again?
What?!
Biding my time for too long?
Lost in the intent of suspension?
Ignoring the advent of Sir Winter?
Stretching the slomo too far
for the laws that be?
Not caring enough?
Maybe this
is the classic case
of something
better
forgotten.
For now.
2012/12/12
¨You know, Charlie. I have most of what I need but it´s not what I really need, it´s not even what I want if I think about it hard enough. ¨
¨I think I know what you mean.¨
¨You wanna make me feel comfortable, suddenly, is that it?¨
¨No.¨
¨I feel like the ingredients I have are not for the recipe I intend to embark on... but they aren´t yielding another recipe either... and it doesn´t make sense. They should yield at least something, something worthwhile, you know? instead I get this goo....¨
¨Of course you get a goo. ¨
¨Oh, yeah?¨
¨Even the simplest recipe takes intention. If you don´t have the right intention for the ingredients you have, if you don´t develop a recipe, you´ll still have the unstructured and useless goo.¨
¨Oh God. I think I see.¨
¨You´re welcome, my lady.¨
¨I think I know what you mean.¨
¨You wanna make me feel comfortable, suddenly, is that it?¨
¨No.¨
¨I feel like the ingredients I have are not for the recipe I intend to embark on... but they aren´t yielding another recipe either... and it doesn´t make sense. They should yield at least something, something worthwhile, you know? instead I get this goo....¨
¨Of course you get a goo. ¨
¨Oh, yeah?¨
¨Even the simplest recipe takes intention. If you don´t have the right intention for the ingredients you have, if you don´t develop a recipe, you´ll still have the unstructured and useless goo.¨
¨Oh God. I think I see.¨
¨You´re welcome, my lady.¨
2012/11/23
Bewilder
¨These dates, these years, last decade for instance, man. They´re piling up and losing edge. I can´t stand it.¨
¨Yeah, I know.¨
¨So what do you say I do about it.¨
¨Fuck if I know.¨
¨Yeah, I know.¨
¨So what do you say I do about it.¨
¨Fuck if I know.¨
2012/11/08
Home I
There she was, just plopped. Escher molten clock style. Ryan interview bystander style. Something like 5, or like 6 in the morning. And sideways the thrill just seeped in, like dipping the red paint brush in clear water the first time. She had a skip-of-a-beat. She had a plunge-of-the-gut. She decided to make up her mind and assign a name to something which had many names, this mysterious feeling of joy, of awareness, the Chapter 84 moment, the gasp, the wonder. Like being 14 again. It longed to evolve into panic but she knew better.
Oh God this thing I call Home, this slide through the dust in the light, how could I ever...?
Nah.
Nah.
2012/09/24
Caution
What?! What am I supposed to do, just write what I really think? Wouldn´t that make something implode somewhere somehow in summertime? If the butterfly effect is true, what about the elephant effect?
No, I have to keep the balance of Cosmos as before-me as possible.
Or don´t I?
2012/06/17
Giveitawaynow
An RHCP tracklist, and a dull feeling of distance from the stars in my eyes when, twenty years ago, I first watched some of these videos on MTV, my head cocked to one side, and way more hues than words to express them.
Who cares, it´s not like it´s touching music. It´s real cool stuff made by four dudes just a little older than me, that invariably takes me back to that evening so long ago, when my future was waiting to burst in fireworks over the roof of my room. It´s not like a painful memory, just painful realization. Where the hell is my youth? Hey! You weren´t supposed to leave without telling me!
Lily sighed into the batter. These thoughts were better left unthought, in general.
Who cares, it´s not like it´s touching music. It´s real cool stuff made by four dudes just a little older than me, that invariably takes me back to that evening so long ago, when my future was waiting to burst in fireworks over the roof of my room. It´s not like a painful memory, just painful realization. Where the hell is my youth? Hey! You weren´t supposed to leave without telling me!
Lily sighed into the batter. These thoughts were better left unthought, in general.
2012/05/22
2012/05/17
2012/05/06
2012/05/03
Lily and Aurora II
Aurey it´s me. Is it too late?
No, Lily, and even if it were, you must have a reason to be calling me at this time!
I do, I do. Aurey I´m so excited! I just figured that one great way to get Jeannie to become communicative and to understand language is to take advantage of her great ear, her aural response, her aural sensitivity... and just like with everything else, breaking the process down like the analysis of a symphony is perfect for both of us. I get to learn how she learns, she gets to learn to link the music of the discourse with certain emotional responses, and we both learn to communicate.
I just incorporate this little pill into her everyday activities: I break dialogue into its basic motifs and the emotions they can be linked to. Then I take away the words and let it be a melodic discourse, with actual small musical motifs. And I either entertain her with that for long stretches, she loves it, or I throw her one every now and then, and she just lights up! Aurey! And there´s quick progress because she´s got this supersensitive delicate musical ear!
Well I´ll be damned, Lily. You don´t cease to surprise me. Jesus.
Thanks for your patience, Aurey.
What are you talking about? I´m happy for all of us! Great work! I´m coming over.
Sigh and silent smile.
Click
No, Lily, and even if it were, you must have a reason to be calling me at this time!
I do, I do. Aurey I´m so excited! I just figured that one great way to get Jeannie to become communicative and to understand language is to take advantage of her great ear, her aural response, her aural sensitivity... and just like with everything else, breaking the process down like the analysis of a symphony is perfect for both of us. I get to learn how she learns, she gets to learn to link the music of the discourse with certain emotional responses, and we both learn to communicate.
I just incorporate this little pill into her everyday activities: I break dialogue into its basic motifs and the emotions they can be linked to. Then I take away the words and let it be a melodic discourse, with actual small musical motifs. And I either entertain her with that for long stretches, she loves it, or I throw her one every now and then, and she just lights up! Aurey! And there´s quick progress because she´s got this supersensitive delicate musical ear!
Well I´ll be damned, Lily. You don´t cease to surprise me. Jesus.
Thanks for your patience, Aurey.
What are you talking about? I´m happy for all of us! Great work! I´m coming over.
Sigh and silent smile.
Click
2012/05/01
The Great Bottomless
General Perkins was known to believe in the power of willpower. A dimension of unknown dimensions, it never ceased to fascinate him how, throughout the history of mankind, the sole power of human will, repeatedly meeting the most impossible challenges, repeatedly left those who witnessed it in awe.
"It has no limits. It is The Great Bottomless. And boy do I love all limitless things, even the most terrifying ones. Eh, Gruubs?"
"I see, Sir. Well, me too," mumbled Gruubs, whose eyes were following an ant's impossible pilgrimage up the windowsill, with a chunk of today´s parmesan on its back.
"It has no limits. It is The Great Bottomless. And boy do I love all limitless things, even the most terrifying ones. Eh, Gruubs?"
"I see, Sir. Well, me too," mumbled Gruubs, whose eyes were following an ant's impossible pilgrimage up the windowsill, with a chunk of today´s parmesan on its back.
2012/04/28
Lily and Aurora I
¨There, now. You´ll feel better anytime now. Hold still.¨
¨Dammit. I always get stuck like this, wondering why he does this to me.¨
¨Do you really want this man to be the one to hold your hand when you die?¨
¨No, he´s the one I want to hold my hand as I live.¨
¨Well, then, girl, all you gotta do is activate your OMT.¨
¨What the hell´s my OMT.¨
¨It´s the Own Man Translator. You try to break down everything that`s breakdownable about how your man acts, you analyze his discourse in time, if you need to you draw vectors, or make lists, or set up graph charts, until you rip it down to 10 main themes max, and the reactions based on them... and you study him. I mean study him hard. And trust me this can reach what I call heights of depression. Study the hell out of him, Lily, literally. Literally, Lily. And when you know him, based on reflexion, based on experience and objective observation and analysis, you become a simultaneous interpreter between his behavior and your rationalization and he becomes an instrument for your life symphony and you finally use him to compose instead of the other way around.¨
¨Oh Aurey, seriously.¨
¨Don´t take this lightly, Lily. I´m offering you what may be your only way out of your mire. You know I´m right.¨
Lily sighed.
She did.
¨Dammit. I always get stuck like this, wondering why he does this to me.¨
¨Do you really want this man to be the one to hold your hand when you die?¨
¨No, he´s the one I want to hold my hand as I live.¨
¨Well, then, girl, all you gotta do is activate your OMT.¨
¨What the hell´s my OMT.¨
¨It´s the Own Man Translator. You try to break down everything that`s breakdownable about how your man acts, you analyze his discourse in time, if you need to you draw vectors, or make lists, or set up graph charts, until you rip it down to 10 main themes max, and the reactions based on them... and you study him. I mean study him hard. And trust me this can reach what I call heights of depression. Study the hell out of him, Lily, literally. Literally, Lily. And when you know him, based on reflexion, based on experience and objective observation and analysis, you become a simultaneous interpreter between his behavior and your rationalization and he becomes an instrument for your life symphony and you finally use him to compose instead of the other way around.¨
¨Oh Aurey, seriously.¨
¨Don´t take this lightly, Lily. I´m offering you what may be your only way out of your mire. You know I´m right.¨
Lily sighed.
She did.
2012/04/26
Chapter None, In Which We Meet Lily and Aurora
Hello, Aurey? This is Lily.
Hi Lily!
Hi dear, I´m calling to ask you about something. Is this a bad time?
Not at all. Tell me what´s on your mind.
Well, I´m trying to make Jane do the body turn we talked about the other day, where you cross one arm and leg way over the other and let her figure out how to get unstuck. Well, it´s not working. As soon as I do the crossover she reacts by curling in the exact opposite direction! I´m distressed, I don´t think she can do this.
You mean as soon as you cross her legs and arms and take her out of her balance, she restores it and even emphasizes her decision by curling up the other way?
Yes, Exactly........ Oh!! She´s already doing it!
Hello! I´ll be right over.
Click.
Hi Lily!
Hi dear, I´m calling to ask you about something. Is this a bad time?
Not at all. Tell me what´s on your mind.
Well, I´m trying to make Jane do the body turn we talked about the other day, where you cross one arm and leg way over the other and let her figure out how to get unstuck. Well, it´s not working. As soon as I do the crossover she reacts by curling in the exact opposite direction! I´m distressed, I don´t think she can do this.
You mean as soon as you cross her legs and arms and take her out of her balance, she restores it and even emphasizes her decision by curling up the other way?
Yes, Exactly........ Oh!! She´s already doing it!
Hello! I´ll be right over.
Click.
2012/04/21
Useless Concern
without it being tinged by the fact that I am indeed me.
2012/04/16
Libros Usados
Post-it encontrado detrás de la puerta del baño real:
Basta con la virginidad de los libros como gran valor. Un libro usado, que te llega via Ebay, tiene esa marcha de más que a mi me recuerda la biblioteca de mi colegio... ¡y encima cuesta tanto menos! Tanto que tiene el gusto del robo y la ganga (that damn sweet taste). Cómo es que uno tarda tanto a veces en entender cosas sencillas. Saludop. Taluegop.
María Carolina, Infanta de Kijara
Basta con la virginidad de los libros como gran valor. Un libro usado, que te llega via Ebay, tiene esa marcha de más que a mi me recuerda la biblioteca de mi colegio... ¡y encima cuesta tanto menos! Tanto que tiene el gusto del robo y la ganga (that damn sweet taste). Cómo es que uno tarda tanto a veces en entender cosas sencillas. Saludop. Taluegop.
María Carolina, Infanta de Kijara
2012/04/15
Nostalgia
I´m a little sad when I don´t know how to communicate an emotion I have. You may say well sad is a pretty easy thing to communicate. And I might reply yes but sad is all that comes through to you while there´s really a bigger dimension which is there´s something I need to express but am unable to, and that´s why I´m sad... and embarassed to be sad and not furious.
Knowing that nothing I feel may actually be unique only makes it worse... others have felt this but I will never find them in the position to talk about it and even if I find them, the emotion may be similar but it will never be a complete match. I miss my childhood, who can help me with that? I miss my mother and my dad and my brothers and their families and the mentors and mother-sister-teachers who shaped my soul, the feeling of being completely protected from harm and loss, I miss my dogs, my cats, my gardens in their golden seasons, my pony, the scent of jasmine and tangerine and basil filling my brother´s land rover, the feeling of my whole life ahead of me, water from sweet streams bubbling around my feet, the red earth, the always important festivities which interrupted work and study and which were the perfect excuse to feel the day was special, the music seeping out of houses at all times. I miss ASA, how fabulously frivolous our concerns were half the time, I even miss sitting down at my glass desk at home to do homework I had probably already half finished in class, or sitting at the piano and taking in that scent of pine which drove me mad with belongingness. Or the school library, where I often stayed long in to read the most meaningful books that were to become the underlying geography of my mental... skyline.
So what the hell, I´ll start by feeding it to you generous, pious people, and doing so as best I can, sacrificing many an aspect of narration... and then stop abruptly, maybe half admitting that I already feel a little better. So much so that I leave. Seeya.
Knowing that nothing I feel may actually be unique only makes it worse... others have felt this but I will never find them in the position to talk about it and even if I find them, the emotion may be similar but it will never be a complete match. I miss my childhood, who can help me with that? I miss my mother and my dad and my brothers and their families and the mentors and mother-sister-teachers who shaped my soul, the feeling of being completely protected from harm and loss, I miss my dogs, my cats, my gardens in their golden seasons, my pony, the scent of jasmine and tangerine and basil filling my brother´s land rover, the feeling of my whole life ahead of me, water from sweet streams bubbling around my feet, the red earth, the always important festivities which interrupted work and study and which were the perfect excuse to feel the day was special, the music seeping out of houses at all times. I miss ASA, how fabulously frivolous our concerns were half the time, I even miss sitting down at my glass desk at home to do homework I had probably already half finished in class, or sitting at the piano and taking in that scent of pine which drove me mad with belongingness. Or the school library, where I often stayed long in to read the most meaningful books that were to become the underlying geography of my mental... skyline.
So what the hell, I´ll start by feeding it to you generous, pious people, and doing so as best I can, sacrificing many an aspect of narration... and then stop abruptly, maybe half admitting that I already feel a little better. So much so that I leave. Seeya.
2012/03/23
There´s a Time and Place to Sleep....
This applies not to the Royal Family.They do the anywhere, anyhow thing.
2012/03/14
Declaration of Dependence
In the period between ___ and ___, ___ deconstructed and reconstructed ___self in the head-over-heels festival - or landslide - of assimilation of an awesome creature like ___, only to deconstruct ___self again when ___ failed to come through with the implicit promise of happiness. And all the things ___ wanted to share with those ___ loved, when ____ dreamed of inspiring conversations with, say, ___ nieces and nephews or students, drifted out of reach again, became ambiguous, and vanished, combusting in the crisp winter morning.
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