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Thursday 29 July 2010
Somebody sent you a proposal
Wednesday 28 July 2010
wish
His arms wrapped around me, sucking my life, obstructing the sunshine.
I am saved from the world when I rest locked in this fiction of warmness without the object of my desire. Now I only have the past, like a shadow, whispering sensually to the ears of my imagination that we are together once more, like it used to be. Like it should be.
I made of your body my conquered territory. You were as mine as none will ever be.
No words will describe the killing passion that devoured us in countless days when our love opened like a ripped fruit ready to feast the hunger.
So now you tell me how it works to live like this, because the pills the doctor gave me are good for nothing. Sticky memories like fingers who before knew where was the secret key to paradise...have become hunters that hurt my soul and scar ch my skin like the violent winter wind.
Sleep well, I won't ever close my eyes again. I don't want to dream again for fear of finding you in my subconscious.
Be happy my clever one. I wont learn new lessons. You taught me all I wanted to know. And this pain you left me with is taking me where I always wanted to be: away from the door were we used to sit to count dying stars. I can touch them know. I followed them where the universe disappears, where you didn't dare to come.
I drunk the poison of the others...We went down by it, star crossed lover we were.
There are more chapters, Light, many more we must write. We must keep on, get together were others have never been before.
We must suffer a bit longer, lingering in the absence of the other till this feeling turns into its opposite, like the dialectical materiality of love, coming to life from the same source from which its destroyment arose.
A bit longer yet... Imagine this is like disappearing into the abstract pleasure of a little death. We'll come back the same way we come back tangled in the transpiration of the carrier...succumbing to the oblivion of regrets and all the words that loose their meaning in that instant to live for, to long for the rest of our lives.
Never apart. Not a moment more.
I am saved from the world when I rest locked in this fiction of warmness without the object of my desire. Now I only have the past, like a shadow, whispering sensually to the ears of my imagination that we are together once more, like it used to be. Like it should be.
I made of your body my conquered territory. You were as mine as none will ever be.
No words will describe the killing passion that devoured us in countless days when our love opened like a ripped fruit ready to feast the hunger.
So now you tell me how it works to live like this, because the pills the doctor gave me are good for nothing. Sticky memories like fingers who before knew where was the secret key to paradise...have become hunters that hurt my soul and scar ch my skin like the violent winter wind.
Sleep well, I won't ever close my eyes again. I don't want to dream again for fear of finding you in my subconscious.
Be happy my clever one. I wont learn new lessons. You taught me all I wanted to know. And this pain you left me with is taking me where I always wanted to be: away from the door were we used to sit to count dying stars. I can touch them know. I followed them where the universe disappears, where you didn't dare to come.
I drunk the poison of the others...We went down by it, star crossed lover we were.
There are more chapters, Light, many more we must write. We must keep on, get together were others have never been before.
We must suffer a bit longer, lingering in the absence of the other till this feeling turns into its opposite, like the dialectical materiality of love, coming to life from the same source from which its destroyment arose.
A bit longer yet... Imagine this is like disappearing into the abstract pleasure of a little death. We'll come back the same way we come back tangled in the transpiration of the carrier...succumbing to the oblivion of regrets and all the words that loose their meaning in that instant to live for, to long for the rest of our lives.
Never apart. Not a moment more.
Tuesday 27 July 2010
All those psychos
I am thinking in all those characters that are impossible for me to forget. Once u let them in...That's it: They introduce in your bones a new kind of fear to the beast in society.
I could mention, ie., Christin Bale, Jack Nicholson, Anthony Perkins, Anthony Hopkins (gosh, his Hannibal was like nothing I've seen before)
In "No Country for Old Men" Mr Bardem played a psycho who, in the place of a soul, had only obsession and a chilly emptiness full of credibility.
I would like to say that that was the performance of his life, not just because it won him his first Oscar but because in that movie Javier is simply brilliant.
But, being following him since I am 15, I must say his work for the cinema made in Spain is as good as the one he delivered for the yanks,therefore the "world".
He was mesmerising in "Dias Contados", in "Los Lunes al Sol", in "Mar Adentro" and in my favourite one: Benito, the macho man who made everything with a touch of class, the help of Julio Iglesias and... bollocks. "Con Dos cojones", as his character would say. Actually, I can't wait for him to get a second Oscar because after "Huevos de Oro", for me, Bardem is the man who likes to have two of everything. Sorry Pe.. tie him close...Just in case...
Today I've seen a psycho as disturbing as his.
Casey Affleck made me shiver in his personification of a sheriff out of law in "The Killer Inside Me". This film has the most shocking and disturbing scenes I've seen since Lars Von Trier's "The Antichrist".
I am still wondering if its that violence has a purpose and all I can think of is in the lack of light in Affleck's eyes, his facial rictus, his understanding of the cool man who though he had everything under control; under his evil will, everyone becomes a puppet, a victim of his lost rationality.
Sometimes a story only makes sense thanks to the rhythm insulated by the actors who bring it to life. "The Killer Inside Me" must be one of those cases because I don't really get it though I know that in art not everything has to have a fixed determination. Which makes of this movie a brave approach to the mind of a man who is terrifying, whose life is sum of days and his love ones material of the killer instinct that possesses him.
I wouldn't say this film is made to entertain, unless someones has funny tastes. So maybe I'll watch it again...to search for the meaning and "enjoy" once more Casey's job. Unforgettable.
I could mention, ie., Christin Bale, Jack Nicholson, Anthony Perkins, Anthony Hopkins (gosh, his Hannibal was like nothing I've seen before)
In "No Country for Old Men" Mr Bardem played a psycho who, in the place of a soul, had only obsession and a chilly emptiness full of credibility.
I would like to say that that was the performance of his life, not just because it won him his first Oscar but because in that movie Javier is simply brilliant.
But, being following him since I am 15, I must say his work for the cinema made in Spain is as good as the one he delivered for the yanks,therefore the "world".
He was mesmerising in "Dias Contados", in "Los Lunes al Sol", in "Mar Adentro" and in my favourite one: Benito, the macho man who made everything with a touch of class, the help of Julio Iglesias and... bollocks. "Con Dos cojones", as his character would say. Actually, I can't wait for him to get a second Oscar because after "Huevos de Oro", for me, Bardem is the man who likes to have two of everything. Sorry Pe.. tie him close...Just in case...
Today I've seen a psycho as disturbing as his.
Casey Affleck made me shiver in his personification of a sheriff out of law in "The Killer Inside Me". This film has the most shocking and disturbing scenes I've seen since Lars Von Trier's "The Antichrist".
I am still wondering if its that violence has a purpose and all I can think of is in the lack of light in Affleck's eyes, his facial rictus, his understanding of the cool man who though he had everything under control; under his evil will, everyone becomes a puppet, a victim of his lost rationality.
Sometimes a story only makes sense thanks to the rhythm insulated by the actors who bring it to life. "The Killer Inside Me" must be one of those cases because I don't really get it though I know that in art not everything has to have a fixed determination. Which makes of this movie a brave approach to the mind of a man who is terrifying, whose life is sum of days and his love ones material of the killer instinct that possesses him.
I wouldn't say this film is made to entertain, unless someones has funny tastes. So maybe I'll watch it again...to search for the meaning and "enjoy" once more Casey's job. Unforgettable.
Sunday 25 July 2010
Aaron
OK...I know...Let me explain. I didn't go all Madonna in here, but I think this pic is a perfect illustration that could help me to explain my crushes for the Gemini without using too many words. It's very scientific and let's admit it...So Charming!!
Apparently, like me, Aaron likes strong emotions. I guess that becoming a father at the tender age of 20 is the strongest of all. For sure I wont match him in that one.
Moving to the "idolatration for good reasons" part, in my humble opinion, his role as Lennon in "Nowhere Boy" was simply mind blowing. Powerful and touchy. The physical resemblance is not very accurate, but Sam Taylor-Wood was right in trying to find someone who captured the wilderness of a young genius as Lennon was. And he does.
Behind those sweet blue eyes there is something unbelievable mysterious that burst to explode and blast us all. He hides an old soul able to trap me in the ocean of his promises and talent. Sweet and wild...Very Gemini indeed: Two characters in one body...Extremely tempting for those addictive to solve the quiz of a deep and ambiguous personality.
His young looks don't stop him from delivering the image of a beast to be tamed. Who could!!
The truth is I can't wait to see more of this young gentleman...I mean..Professionally...I mean...You know what I mean!!! I am gonn aleave it here before I get all confused.
For the record, no wonder mature women today are falling more and more for youngsters. If all the pack comes like this...I am going illegal! Catch me if u can.
Saturday 24 July 2010
Let it be?!
"She's fucking 6 feet tall!!" After this I wonder if I should learn some basic kick boxing or take the comment as a complement.
Nevermind, what it really matters in here is my simple question...Where these people come from? Liliputiland??!!! Get lost, though I guess that that might be asking too much to so little intellect.
Jesus man, one day I am gonna run out of patient and I am gonna loose it good in the old Galician way: I'm gonna send them all "al Carallo", which is much worse than send them to hell. That place is too classy. These idiots need something more postmodernist.
To be honest, It's been like this for a while, so I guess that I should be used to it, but I am not. t's strange how difficult results to get used to stupidity when I live surrounded by it.
I have to keep on reminding myself that violence is not the answer. John, don't take it bad, but in this case, I am afraid love is not either.
What's with men that have an obsession with women who are taller than them? With women who are whatever more than them? Do I walk around crying out loud: Oh my God!! Your dick is so tiny...Plus...You are just too small!!!?? No.
A kind of complex? Well, if that's the case, feed your ego somewhere else then, losers. Small losers, for the record.
What a world we live in. Difference is in demand, it is embraced in funny ways, but at the moment of truth, they don't let you be different in peace.
In this one I have to be with the Beatles... Let it be. Not the answer, but at least, a simple solution.
Nevermind, what it really matters in here is my simple question...Where these people come from? Liliputiland??!!! Get lost, though I guess that that might be asking too much to so little intellect.
Jesus man, one day I am gonna run out of patient and I am gonna loose it good in the old Galician way: I'm gonna send them all "al Carallo", which is much worse than send them to hell. That place is too classy. These idiots need something more postmodernist.
To be honest, It's been like this for a while, so I guess that I should be used to it, but I am not. t's strange how difficult results to get used to stupidity when I live surrounded by it.
I have to keep on reminding myself that violence is not the answer. John, don't take it bad, but in this case, I am afraid love is not either.
What's with men that have an obsession with women who are taller than them? With women who are whatever more than them? Do I walk around crying out loud: Oh my God!! Your dick is so tiny...Plus...You are just too small!!!?? No.
A kind of complex? Well, if that's the case, feed your ego somewhere else then, losers. Small losers, for the record.
What a world we live in. Difference is in demand, it is embraced in funny ways, but at the moment of truth, they don't let you be different in peace.
In this one I have to be with the Beatles... Let it be. Not the answer, but at least, a simple solution.
FW: Envío de artículo en ELPAIS.com.
To: rolli2006@hotmail.com
Subject: Envío de artículo en ELPAIS.com.
Date: Fri, 23 Jul 2010 10:22:20 +0200
From: titulares@elpais.com
|
Friday 23 July 2010
Que nada ni nadie cambien tu rumbo
Algun adolescente escribio en el muro de un colegio sudamericano que Igualdad es igual a Libertad. Y que haya muchos que les nieguen a los nignos el poder de la oratoria!!
Me gustaria que unos cuantos adultos por etsa parte del mundo compartiesen la pasion por una ecuacion tan simple de entender, pero tan dificil de llevar a puerto.
Supongo que es cuestion de fe. De fe y de vision en un mundo, ya no digo mejor, pero si distinto. Que tenemos que perder de todos modos? El big Size de McDonalds? Pensaba que Michael Moore lo habia despopularizado.Aunque supongo que hara falta mucho mas que una critica sarcastica y aguda para lavarnos el cerebro y limpiarlo de tanta baratija que nos vendireron por pura ganga.
Hemos convertido nuestros mercados de calidad en un todo a 100. Para que tanta fijacion con la apariencia, con los escandalos de los famosos, con los coches que solo nos llevan de un sitio a otro, con el ultimo grito en la pasarela Cibeles, con la boda de Pe y el divorcio de Maria de los Palotes? Oh! Sabiais ya que Geroge Clooney se casa? Me imagino que algun gay desquiciado estara tajandose las venas en este momento, no por el matrionio en si, sino por lo real de la evidencia: Masculinidad suprema que simplemente quiso disfrutar de la solteria.
Bueno, poniendole fin al cuento sin perdices, me imagino a gays y a descerebradas que en sus fueros muy internos ansiaban ser princesas. Dont worry babies...A caso sabemos a lo que saben las perdices? A 3 euros el kilo en el Eroski, la cosa no pinta muy bien.
Mi cuento temrina con centollos y con una empanada de costillas. Y, por favor, nada de principes azules a lo Vidal Sason, en una armadura que ha quedado brillante a base de pulirla con un algodoncito y a escupitajos. A mi me va mas un famelico Ville Valo con su torre a la que me mudare con una furgo alquilada, que paso de pagar una fortuna a los de la compagnia de turno que siempre te extravian alguna caja. No hay recompensa que valga por mi coleccion de pelis, mis cd's de Rock, mis novelas o mi....Bueno Ville, no tengo mucho mas. Te salgo bastante compacta.
En esta sociedad hay cabida para todos los gustos. Para todo. Y es que, si no la hubiera, no existirian las ganas de plantarle cara a la realidad, en cuyo caso, alguna que otra vida dejaria de tener sentido.
No se si sentido es lo que nos sobra o de lo que carecemos, pero me gusta saber que en un rincon del mundo, hay crios que, aun sin comprenderlo por completo, lo tienen bien claro y saben hacer muy bien sus calculos.
Suegno con que nunca nada ni nadie cambie su rumbo.
Me gustaria que unos cuantos adultos por etsa parte del mundo compartiesen la pasion por una ecuacion tan simple de entender, pero tan dificil de llevar a puerto.
Supongo que es cuestion de fe. De fe y de vision en un mundo, ya no digo mejor, pero si distinto. Que tenemos que perder de todos modos? El big Size de McDonalds? Pensaba que Michael Moore lo habia despopularizado.Aunque supongo que hara falta mucho mas que una critica sarcastica y aguda para lavarnos el cerebro y limpiarlo de tanta baratija que nos vendireron por pura ganga.
Hemos convertido nuestros mercados de calidad en un todo a 100. Para que tanta fijacion con la apariencia, con los escandalos de los famosos, con los coches que solo nos llevan de un sitio a otro, con el ultimo grito en la pasarela Cibeles, con la boda de Pe y el divorcio de Maria de los Palotes? Oh! Sabiais ya que Geroge Clooney se casa? Me imagino que algun gay desquiciado estara tajandose las venas en este momento, no por el matrionio en si, sino por lo real de la evidencia: Masculinidad suprema que simplemente quiso disfrutar de la solteria.
Bueno, poniendole fin al cuento sin perdices, me imagino a gays y a descerebradas que en sus fueros muy internos ansiaban ser princesas. Dont worry babies...A caso sabemos a lo que saben las perdices? A 3 euros el kilo en el Eroski, la cosa no pinta muy bien.
Mi cuento temrina con centollos y con una empanada de costillas. Y, por favor, nada de principes azules a lo Vidal Sason, en una armadura que ha quedado brillante a base de pulirla con un algodoncito y a escupitajos. A mi me va mas un famelico Ville Valo con su torre a la que me mudare con una furgo alquilada, que paso de pagar una fortuna a los de la compagnia de turno que siempre te extravian alguna caja. No hay recompensa que valga por mi coleccion de pelis, mis cd's de Rock, mis novelas o mi....Bueno Ville, no tengo mucho mas. Te salgo bastante compacta.
En esta sociedad hay cabida para todos los gustos. Para todo. Y es que, si no la hubiera, no existirian las ganas de plantarle cara a la realidad, en cuyo caso, alguna que otra vida dejaria de tener sentido.
No se si sentido es lo que nos sobra o de lo que carecemos, pero me gusta saber que en un rincon del mundo, hay crios que, aun sin comprenderlo por completo, lo tienen bien claro y saben hacer muy bien sus calculos.
Suegno con que nunca nada ni nadie cambie su rumbo.
Thursday 22 July 2010
Vuelvo a ti.
Quiero llegar a 1000, como Serezade.
Ya se que demasiado a menudo recurro a las mismas referencias que se repiten en estas lineas; se me escapan de mi imaginacion sin permiso, embusteras, pues casi nunca cuentan una verdad, aunque a veces traicionan mis secretos mas ocultos y los gritan a voces.
Ultimamente quiero que todo salga de dentro, quiero compartirlo conmigo misma, repetir los nombres en el vacio, en el silencio, y rescatarlos asi de la ficcion de mis creencias.
Tras una larga ausencia, regreso de nuevo a Londres, la ciudad que me enamoro desde la primera vez que la vi. Ella lo supo antes que yo: Estabamos echas la una para la otra.
Nos enamoramos rapidamente, locamente, como solo se puede estar cuando se esta enamorada y despues aprendimos a querernos mas sosegadamente, como tan bien saben hacer los amantes expertos.
Puede que sea demasiado tarde para culpar a nadie de mi no permanencia. Es hora de aceptar que soy un desastre, que no sirvo para pertenecer a nadie ni a nada; hay que asumir responsabilidades y aceptar que no quiero aceptar nada que me ate contra mi voluntad.
Cuando se cruzan los caminos, la decision nunca es facil.
A pesar de quererte como nunca, estoy aprendiendo a vivir sin ti. Todavia estamos juntas, pero te voy diciendo adios, o hasta pronto, para que cuando llegue el moemnto de despegar mis pies de tu suelo, mis vista no se gire hacia atras en tu busca.
Tu tienes un destino que cumplir. Debes darle a aquellos que te buscan lo que quieren de ti y de ellos mismos...Yo...No se...Ya te mandare una postal desde mi proximo destino diciendote cuanto te hecho de menos, contandote todas las cosas que encuentre en el camino.
Me ha atacado la fiebre del oro. Te dejo por el mundo que no vi, siguiendo una vision de mi misma que quiero confirmar y cuando consiga construir un puerto tan firme como el tuyo en mi interior, quizas vuelva a tus brazos. Porque solo entonces sabremos saborearnos sin tapujos o inseguridades.
Hasta entonces, dejame buscar ese yo....Al menos, dejame intentarlo.
Ya se que demasiado a menudo recurro a las mismas referencias que se repiten en estas lineas; se me escapan de mi imaginacion sin permiso, embusteras, pues casi nunca cuentan una verdad, aunque a veces traicionan mis secretos mas ocultos y los gritan a voces.
Ultimamente quiero que todo salga de dentro, quiero compartirlo conmigo misma, repetir los nombres en el vacio, en el silencio, y rescatarlos asi de la ficcion de mis creencias.
Tras una larga ausencia, regreso de nuevo a Londres, la ciudad que me enamoro desde la primera vez que la vi. Ella lo supo antes que yo: Estabamos echas la una para la otra.
Nos enamoramos rapidamente, locamente, como solo se puede estar cuando se esta enamorada y despues aprendimos a querernos mas sosegadamente, como tan bien saben hacer los amantes expertos.
Puede que sea demasiado tarde para culpar a nadie de mi no permanencia. Es hora de aceptar que soy un desastre, que no sirvo para pertenecer a nadie ni a nada; hay que asumir responsabilidades y aceptar que no quiero aceptar nada que me ate contra mi voluntad.
Cuando se cruzan los caminos, la decision nunca es facil.
A pesar de quererte como nunca, estoy aprendiendo a vivir sin ti. Todavia estamos juntas, pero te voy diciendo adios, o hasta pronto, para que cuando llegue el moemnto de despegar mis pies de tu suelo, mis vista no se gire hacia atras en tu busca.
Tu tienes un destino que cumplir. Debes darle a aquellos que te buscan lo que quieren de ti y de ellos mismos...Yo...No se...Ya te mandare una postal desde mi proximo destino diciendote cuanto te hecho de menos, contandote todas las cosas que encuentre en el camino.
Me ha atacado la fiebre del oro. Te dejo por el mundo que no vi, siguiendo una vision de mi misma que quiero confirmar y cuando consiga construir un puerto tan firme como el tuyo en mi interior, quizas vuelva a tus brazos. Porque solo entonces sabremos saborearnos sin tapujos o inseguridades.
Hasta entonces, dejame buscar ese yo....Al menos, dejame intentarlo.
Wednesday 21 July 2010
Building the bridge
How green was my valley... But it hasn't rain for a while and the park is turning brown.
I sit in Russell Sq, wanting to catch up a bit of sun before it goes to sleep and I contemplate how London passes by in front of me, with all its worries and joys.
I've read the book in which readying the girl in the sun glasses is inmsersed in; I played the ball and I also waited the call like the boy in the stripped t-shirt does, like if his life depended on it.
I realise that everything seems to have a purpose, that the people who surrounds me is not a product of my imagination, but an amount of feelings with a past and a future. Hundreds of lives happening and extinguishing at the very same moment that mine does: The laughter of the children, the hissing of the wind, the sweetness in the words of two lovers, the languages that converge in the pentagram of Babel, creating a multicultural music only possible in the London compass.
It's a 4x4, like a military march, with ups that take you high and lows that smoothly float calming the tempest formed by the traffic going round and round...in a vicious circle that never leaves the universe of the city.
In this circus I am the fool, the beast and the acrobat who tries to make smile, jump, keep the balance...All at once, because no matter what, show must go on.
And tomorrow it will be the same old story. That star that is ten thousand times bigger than the earth will keep on dying hundreds of years away from us. Unfortunately by then we'll be too old to assits to its funeral.
In here, only casually, the escalators stop to save energy, so my boss can go and complain to the manger in Victoria Station for the delays caused due to such measure.
Nothing is allowed to stop in our world. The time is obliged to go always forward. So we are. As a ocnsequence,our hearts go mad in the rashness, in the wilderness of this artificial full of colourants.
This organic orange...is too perfect to be true.
So I keep on building this bridge that will help me to cross from the world where none demands nothing apart from pounds from the cash point machine to the world of possibilities where there is still some room for dreams and places where I haven't been....yet.
I sit in Russell Sq, wanting to catch up a bit of sun before it goes to sleep and I contemplate how London passes by in front of me, with all its worries and joys.
I've read the book in which readying the girl in the sun glasses is inmsersed in; I played the ball and I also waited the call like the boy in the stripped t-shirt does, like if his life depended on it.
I realise that everything seems to have a purpose, that the people who surrounds me is not a product of my imagination, but an amount of feelings with a past and a future. Hundreds of lives happening and extinguishing at the very same moment that mine does: The laughter of the children, the hissing of the wind, the sweetness in the words of two lovers, the languages that converge in the pentagram of Babel, creating a multicultural music only possible in the London compass.
It's a 4x4, like a military march, with ups that take you high and lows that smoothly float calming the tempest formed by the traffic going round and round...in a vicious circle that never leaves the universe of the city.
In this circus I am the fool, the beast and the acrobat who tries to make smile, jump, keep the balance...All at once, because no matter what, show must go on.
And tomorrow it will be the same old story. That star that is ten thousand times bigger than the earth will keep on dying hundreds of years away from us. Unfortunately by then we'll be too old to assits to its funeral.
In here, only casually, the escalators stop to save energy, so my boss can go and complain to the manger in Victoria Station for the delays caused due to such measure.
Nothing is allowed to stop in our world. The time is obliged to go always forward. So we are. As a ocnsequence,our hearts go mad in the rashness, in the wilderness of this artificial full of colourants.
This organic orange...is too perfect to be true.
So I keep on building this bridge that will help me to cross from the world where none demands nothing apart from pounds from the cash point machine to the world of possibilities where there is still some room for dreams and places where I haven't been....yet.
Sunday 18 July 2010
This Sunday morning is different from the one in Maroon 5's song. It's not raining, though the summer is quite English, meaning that we have a shy sun scared to show off to the clouds that this is its time to reign.
Never mind. As usual, I wake up quite early and go for my daily dosis of caffeine. I don't think I could make it without it by now. I am an addict. Not to the coffee itself, but to the moment of peace it brings me, to the quietness and the breeze flying over my double machiato that looses its warmness in this glass filled to the top with ice cubes. I only wanted two. Apparently, the English find this mixture quite disgusting, but what do they know about coffee anyways? Their romance with the far east tea dumped in sugar has spoiled their palate. I am more Arabic regarding drinking tastes.
So here I am , in the coffee shop in Marchmond St where, without wanting it, I ended up listening to the conversation of these two girls who are talking about who they fucked last night.
We women are evil for this kind of thing. The masculinity of this anonymous poor guy who I hope I never have the "luck" to meet and that they are criticising at this very moment has been cruelly put in doubt and in few sentences, he passed from being a potential good lover to be a "austrolopatheticus"!!
He has been mercilessly ridiculed by the girl in a Brazilian jumper. But I have to admit I am with her in this one...Sexual frustration is a serious matter. If you are not up to the task of giving pleasure don't waste time selling the goods you don't have.
Apparently he has sent her a text early in the morning (it's difficult to follow the conversation when you are pretending not to listen...). I feel sorry for this guy, as we all know he'll never get a reply. I am sorry babe...No orgasm, no second date!! But he'll get over it.
In London life is fast and there's no room for second chances.
I am a hopelessly romantic and I refuse to believe that it only takes a bad night in bed to dump a guy just like that. I guess she met him the very same night the catastrophic accident took place. And there it is something i would never be able to do, no matter how much I try.
Fuck Sex and The City...I am not from fucking freaky post feminist New York and I am not obsessed with shoes and muscles. Never mind how many times I hear Carry and her friends talking about the easiness or the complexity of relationships with guys from whom they don't even know their names... Jezz...SO much noise for a cock!!?? In Iran women are still being stoned to death for committing adultery, so get over it and bring on the artillery!
Leaving moral Christianity out of the picture, I am more old school.
Besides, Love fucks you good. Who need sex?? There' s no lover, apart from Cupid, talented enough to give me such a high!!. 2 in 1...I guess it only works with detergents...So me, following the counsil of the famous advert, I keep on looking for and comparing...But when am I gonna find it to buy? And who is gonna give me the money or the time wasted back if results to be a fraud?!
Despite the dissapointments, I hold on there. As Bon Jovi says: Keep the faith!!
Time to switch off from this conversation which has degraded in the comparison of American Pie vs Porkies... Great! just when I was wondering if this could get worse...My question gets answered!!
Later on, when I have recovered from this experience of human simplicity, I'll try to go back to my gripping lecture of "The Book of Negroes", my best investment in Waterstones of the last two months. This is a book that we all should read to learn from the inevitability of human cruelty and ugliness that we are all capable of and try not ot repeat it never again.
The story does not focus on the jusdgement of the culprits. That would be too bold. It's more about the instinct of survival, about the possibility of change from a life style to a completely different one without loosing the essence of the soul in adversity.
So I am loving it.
I love this and I love that... Most of my foreign friends tell me that that's a very Spanish way of expressing things...But I swear it's not jsut a way of speaking. It's the way I give myself to those or the things that inspire me. I am a bit sorry for those who can't feel like this when they enjoy something they really like.
You have to give all you got when the moment comes!! Very extreme,I know...but that's how life should be lived: No limits, furthermore when we talk about feelings.
I hate rules but I demand one simple thing to myself and others when I focus on something: "entrega total".
Otherwise all the trust, and the promises,and the sleepless nights wouldn't be worthy. For some things in life, middle terms are simply not enough. Intensity, brutal honesty and passion are the goal. How could it be otherwise?? It couldn't.
How else could I describe the total connection with the words, the images, the materials that are made of the same substance that my soul is made of?
We are all made of star dust... I am sure that mine is scattered across the universe, some from this time, some from a past time and some from a time I wont live but I sense growing inside me.
Anyway, let's let this Sunday pass by under the bridge. ...My machiato has gone cold and it's almost lunch time.
Never mind. As usual, I wake up quite early and go for my daily dosis of caffeine. I don't think I could make it without it by now. I am an addict. Not to the coffee itself, but to the moment of peace it brings me, to the quietness and the breeze flying over my double machiato that looses its warmness in this glass filled to the top with ice cubes. I only wanted two. Apparently, the English find this mixture quite disgusting, but what do they know about coffee anyways? Their romance with the far east tea dumped in sugar has spoiled their palate. I am more Arabic regarding drinking tastes.
So here I am , in the coffee shop in Marchmond St where, without wanting it, I ended up listening to the conversation of these two girls who are talking about who they fucked last night.
We women are evil for this kind of thing. The masculinity of this anonymous poor guy who I hope I never have the "luck" to meet and that they are criticising at this very moment has been cruelly put in doubt and in few sentences, he passed from being a potential good lover to be a "austrolopatheticus"!!
He has been mercilessly ridiculed by the girl in a Brazilian jumper. But I have to admit I am with her in this one...Sexual frustration is a serious matter. If you are not up to the task of giving pleasure don't waste time selling the goods you don't have.
Apparently he has sent her a text early in the morning (it's difficult to follow the conversation when you are pretending not to listen...). I feel sorry for this guy, as we all know he'll never get a reply. I am sorry babe...No orgasm, no second date!! But he'll get over it.
In London life is fast and there's no room for second chances.
I am a hopelessly romantic and I refuse to believe that it only takes a bad night in bed to dump a guy just like that. I guess she met him the very same night the catastrophic accident took place. And there it is something i would never be able to do, no matter how much I try.
Fuck Sex and The City...I am not from fucking freaky post feminist New York and I am not obsessed with shoes and muscles. Never mind how many times I hear Carry and her friends talking about the easiness or the complexity of relationships with guys from whom they don't even know their names... Jezz...SO much noise for a cock!!?? In Iran women are still being stoned to death for committing adultery, so get over it and bring on the artillery!
Leaving moral Christianity out of the picture, I am more old school.
Besides, Love fucks you good. Who need sex?? There' s no lover, apart from Cupid, talented enough to give me such a high!!. 2 in 1...I guess it only works with detergents...So me, following the counsil of the famous advert, I keep on looking for and comparing...But when am I gonna find it to buy? And who is gonna give me the money or the time wasted back if results to be a fraud?!
Despite the dissapointments, I hold on there. As Bon Jovi says: Keep the faith!!
Time to switch off from this conversation which has degraded in the comparison of American Pie vs Porkies... Great! just when I was wondering if this could get worse...My question gets answered!!
Later on, when I have recovered from this experience of human simplicity, I'll try to go back to my gripping lecture of "The Book of Negroes", my best investment in Waterstones of the last two months. This is a book that we all should read to learn from the inevitability of human cruelty and ugliness that we are all capable of and try not ot repeat it never again.
The story does not focus on the jusdgement of the culprits. That would be too bold. It's more about the instinct of survival, about the possibility of change from a life style to a completely different one without loosing the essence of the soul in adversity.
So I am loving it.
I love this and I love that... Most of my foreign friends tell me that that's a very Spanish way of expressing things...But I swear it's not jsut a way of speaking. It's the way I give myself to those or the things that inspire me. I am a bit sorry for those who can't feel like this when they enjoy something they really like.
You have to give all you got when the moment comes!! Very extreme,I know...but that's how life should be lived: No limits, furthermore when we talk about feelings.
I hate rules but I demand one simple thing to myself and others when I focus on something: "entrega total".
Otherwise all the trust, and the promises,and the sleepless nights wouldn't be worthy. For some things in life, middle terms are simply not enough. Intensity, brutal honesty and passion are the goal. How could it be otherwise?? It couldn't.
How else could I describe the total connection with the words, the images, the materials that are made of the same substance that my soul is made of?
We are all made of star dust... I am sure that mine is scattered across the universe, some from this time, some from a past time and some from a time I wont live but I sense growing inside me.
Anyway, let's let this Sunday pass by under the bridge. ...My machiato has gone cold and it's almost lunch time.
Saturday 17 July 2010
In my way
This is the path I wanna walk. It is time to get off the line. If I am lucky, I will follow the Inca walk in the sunny hours and sleep under the stars in the nights of Peru that I imagine so magical. I dream of getting lost in the Brazilian sunsets...Find a palm tree and, below its huge green, write about the other side of the pond from the other side of it.
I want to merge in the past packed with voices that went there to explore or simply because they were forced by the lack of choice to find a place that today we can call paradise.
My chances are linked to my dreams. They are not big, but they are mine. I want silence in my heart, I want this feeling I get when the lights go off and the music begins. I want more and more stories to surprise me, to incite me to go out there and get thirsty for new things: books, Cd's, pictures, movies, heroes who believe in themselves and in a different world, heroes who inspire my own future, making me want to be better.
Maybe I will and for that to happen I need to stop denying this fire the chance it deserves to warm my lonely nights.
This is my so called life. I am lucky to know what I desire. Too bad I can't have everything, but in this room with no view nothing will ever happen. Therefore, I won't stay. I won't wait to see. That's the line for another song, but not mine.
My song it has been already written and I must honour that tune and dance to it.
I love dancing. Did I ever tell you? I am not a good dancer, but God how I love to loose myself into the arms of that wild feeling!
Baby...Don't stop me now.
Now that we are getting to know each other, let me tell you a secret: One day, I would like to find that thing called love.
Will be as perfect as I imagine it to be? I think I hear reality calling, demanding of me to stop being so damn naive, but hei!! Who do you think you are? Your limits can be broken. We both know they can. It's been already proved, so don't give me that look. It doesn't scare me anymore. Besides, I don't have nothing to loose since you left me with nothing and in return offered me the world. I am not that greedy, but since you offer I must say that it's an attractive land to explore.
Sorry for the interruption...I thought that I had lost my faith in the last stop. It was so hard...
But, regardless the pain, my faith will remain till my heart decides to leave me for good. It seems I don't have a choice.
I've got nothing but a map, and a treasure, and all the elements that foretell an amazing adventure. Of course the fear is there too but I am gonna find the strenght to control it.
I am in my way to.
I want to merge in the past packed with voices that went there to explore or simply because they were forced by the lack of choice to find a place that today we can call paradise.
My chances are linked to my dreams. They are not big, but they are mine. I want silence in my heart, I want this feeling I get when the lights go off and the music begins. I want more and more stories to surprise me, to incite me to go out there and get thirsty for new things: books, Cd's, pictures, movies, heroes who believe in themselves and in a different world, heroes who inspire my own future, making me want to be better.
Maybe I will and for that to happen I need to stop denying this fire the chance it deserves to warm my lonely nights.
This is my so called life. I am lucky to know what I desire. Too bad I can't have everything, but in this room with no view nothing will ever happen. Therefore, I won't stay. I won't wait to see. That's the line for another song, but not mine.
My song it has been already written and I must honour that tune and dance to it.
I love dancing. Did I ever tell you? I am not a good dancer, but God how I love to loose myself into the arms of that wild feeling!
Baby...Don't stop me now.
Now that we are getting to know each other, let me tell you a secret: One day, I would like to find that thing called love.
Will be as perfect as I imagine it to be? I think I hear reality calling, demanding of me to stop being so damn naive, but hei!! Who do you think you are? Your limits can be broken. We both know they can. It's been already proved, so don't give me that look. It doesn't scare me anymore. Besides, I don't have nothing to loose since you left me with nothing and in return offered me the world. I am not that greedy, but since you offer I must say that it's an attractive land to explore.
Sorry for the interruption...I thought that I had lost my faith in the last stop. It was so hard...
But, regardless the pain, my faith will remain till my heart decides to leave me for good. It seems I don't have a choice.
I've got nothing but a map, and a treasure, and all the elements that foretell an amazing adventure. Of course the fear is there too but I am gonna find the strenght to control it.
I am in my way to.
Thursday 15 July 2010
Let's go crazy in the discovery of this new feeling that is raising in the middle of the storm as I speak. We don't have time, it does not exists for us lovers. Nothing exists, not even the universe with its natural laws; only the need of the water of your fingers exploding in a body ready to blossom, the music we create when we make love, defying the waterfalls of desire that trembles in our bodies flooding this bed, defying God in our attempt to reach perfection.
And then let's rape the silence with promises we don't believe in, but become our creed for tonight.
I know what comes next...It Will kill me to leave you to the morning, to your life where I don't picture myself, in a cloud of sour dreams too bitter to swallow.
I just want to walk away; run away form getting trapped in the web of my idea of love.
So I swim to the shore of my world where I don't need to explain or give reasons why; where I don't get disappointed with stupid misunderstandings. Where nobody waits for me and I can count the stars and nourish my day hours with the memories of how I used to feel.
And feel it again, soon.
And then let's rape the silence with promises we don't believe in, but become our creed for tonight.
I know what comes next...It Will kill me to leave you to the morning, to your life where I don't picture myself, in a cloud of sour dreams too bitter to swallow.
I just want to walk away; run away form getting trapped in the web of my idea of love.
So I swim to the shore of my world where I don't need to explain or give reasons why; where I don't get disappointed with stupid misunderstandings. Where nobody waits for me and I can count the stars and nourish my day hours with the memories of how I used to feel.
And feel it again, soon.
Tuesday 13 July 2010
Esa meta agonizante
Alguien dijo alguna vez que las sirenas solo cantan cuando hay alguien que quiere escucharlas. Quizas a mi me guste su cancion desmesurada, rota de principios que solo rigen al que se ha aprendido la leccion para el profesor ya nunca satisfecho a base de repetrila sobre una cama de ropas demasiado arrugadas para mi gusto pequegno burgues.
Alguien dijo una mentira y el sol se puso sobre el mismo fondo, sin que el cielo se callese sobre la lengua ultrajante que arrastro la verdad por la calle de la perdicion y el alma ingenua del credulo por la calle de la amargura. Y es ahi a donde nos mudamos y nos pasamos el dia bebiendo a la salud del que se fue, en compagnia de otros que nunca estuvieron.
No siento apetito desde el dia en que alguien me dijo que el hambre de palabras no se sacia con un mero intento de acercarse a la llama que consume al alma errante del que nunca encuentra su sitio.
EL hambre de ese beso se me quito en otros labios, el tuyo se me olvido en otros nombres, en la parada de metro donde me baje y deje mi sombra a la luz de tu mirada.
Un dia alguien me dijo que el buscar la verdad no da tregua. Es una batalla perdida de antemano en la que cada lucha aporta una desilusion mas que marcar en el tronco del arbol que fue testigo de nuestra expulsion del paraiso.
Ese alguien tambien me dijo que es en vano tirarle piedras a la luna; es mejor reconciliarse con la mala suerte y dejar que las lineas de la mano tiren para donde ellas quieran tirar.
Echo de menos los ladridos de perro y la cancion de los gatos en la soledad de la noche. Aqui solo hay aliento de desamparados arropados por su anonimato en la ciudad donde todos los perdedores quieren triunfar y olvidarse de un pasado sin pena ni gloria, de una baza en la que echaron todo a perder, tratando ahora de rectificar pateticamente un futuro irremediablemente escrito para ellos.
Sin embargo, semejante leccion no ha conseguido alejarme de la ilusion de cambio que ya no se me antoja tan apetitosa, pero que sigue ahi, al pie del cagnon que anteriornmente ya me salvo de otras invasiones. Me gustaria saber sus motivos porque a veces los pierdo de vista.
Parece ser que el tipo de libertad que persigo, esa meta agonizante que tanto zarandea mi voluntad sin piedad, no es tan facil de conseguir. No se vende a oportunismos. Vive dentro, y lucha constantemente por salir y demostrarme su validez y razon de ser.
Alguien dijo una mentira y el sol se puso sobre el mismo fondo, sin que el cielo se callese sobre la lengua ultrajante que arrastro la verdad por la calle de la perdicion y el alma ingenua del credulo por la calle de la amargura. Y es ahi a donde nos mudamos y nos pasamos el dia bebiendo a la salud del que se fue, en compagnia de otros que nunca estuvieron.
No siento apetito desde el dia en que alguien me dijo que el hambre de palabras no se sacia con un mero intento de acercarse a la llama que consume al alma errante del que nunca encuentra su sitio.
EL hambre de ese beso se me quito en otros labios, el tuyo se me olvido en otros nombres, en la parada de metro donde me baje y deje mi sombra a la luz de tu mirada.
Un dia alguien me dijo que el buscar la verdad no da tregua. Es una batalla perdida de antemano en la que cada lucha aporta una desilusion mas que marcar en el tronco del arbol que fue testigo de nuestra expulsion del paraiso.
Ese alguien tambien me dijo que es en vano tirarle piedras a la luna; es mejor reconciliarse con la mala suerte y dejar que las lineas de la mano tiren para donde ellas quieran tirar.
Echo de menos los ladridos de perro y la cancion de los gatos en la soledad de la noche. Aqui solo hay aliento de desamparados arropados por su anonimato en la ciudad donde todos los perdedores quieren triunfar y olvidarse de un pasado sin pena ni gloria, de una baza en la que echaron todo a perder, tratando ahora de rectificar pateticamente un futuro irremediablemente escrito para ellos.
Sin embargo, semejante leccion no ha conseguido alejarme de la ilusion de cambio que ya no se me antoja tan apetitosa, pero que sigue ahi, al pie del cagnon que anteriornmente ya me salvo de otras invasiones. Me gustaria saber sus motivos porque a veces los pierdo de vista.
Parece ser que el tipo de libertad que persigo, esa meta agonizante que tanto zarandea mi voluntad sin piedad, no es tan facil de conseguir. No se vende a oportunismos. Vive dentro, y lucha constantemente por salir y demostrarme su validez y razon de ser.
Monday 12 July 2010
A COPA DO MUNDO E NOSA, COS ESPANIOS, NOS HAI QUEM PODA!!!!!! TOMAAAAAA!!!!
OE OE OE OE OE OE OE OE OE !!!!!!!!!!
Ok, Vamos a ver. tengo una duda existencial: Si cuando ganamos la Eurocopa eramos la OSTIA...Que somos ahora con al Copa del Mundo? Supongo que....LA RE OSTIA!!!
Muy bien esos chicos...como se lo merecen, Como se lo merece Spain por estar ahi apoyandolos!
Londres se quemo y se vistio de Rojo. Nelson se quedo de priedra cuando nos vio a todos escalar la fuente de Trafalgar y tomar la palza con la bandera!!!
Disfrutad el momentos chic@s....ESTO ES HISTORICO. A saber cuando volvera a suceder.
Desde ayer mismo hasta dentro de cuatro agnos...SPAIN IS THE KING OF THE JUNGLE. Somos los REYES DE LA SELVA!!!!
xxxxx
Ok, Vamos a ver. tengo una duda existencial: Si cuando ganamos la Eurocopa eramos la OSTIA...Que somos ahora con al Copa del Mundo? Supongo que....LA RE OSTIA!!!
Muy bien esos chicos...como se lo merecen, Como se lo merece Spain por estar ahi apoyandolos!
Londres se quemo y se vistio de Rojo. Nelson se quedo de priedra cuando nos vio a todos escalar la fuente de Trafalgar y tomar la palza con la bandera!!!
Disfrutad el momentos chic@s....ESTO ES HISTORICO. A saber cuando volvera a suceder.
Desde ayer mismo hasta dentro de cuatro agnos...SPAIN IS THE KING OF THE JUNGLE. Somos los REYES DE LA SELVA!!!!
xxxxx
Saturday 10 July 2010
Algo de lo que hemos tenido bastante.
Los que vivimos en la distancia desarrollamos de un modo peculiar un sentido que supera las cualidades de los cinco establecidos. Vemos, sentimos, olemos, escuchamos y degustamos todo lo referente a Espana desde la postura del que no tiene sus bellas y suaves noches de verano arropando sus suegnos.
Lo que siempre dimos por sentado, empieza a ser cuestionado con el saber que otorga el don de la ocmparacion. De ahi vendra esa frase tan nuestra de que: "como en la casa de uno..." Y al final ya se sabe que la sabiduria poular es mucha sabiduria. Haria falta una buena dosis de filosofia para encontrar contra argumentos que hecharan por tierra sus tesis tan llenas de razon y sentido comun.
Rosalia, en su meloso tono melancolico, solia quejarse de lo duro que es dejar amigos por estragnos, dejar todo lo que se quiere para adentrarse en un mundo ajeno...
Pero ese mundo tambien puede llegar a enamorar. Yo estaria incompleta sin el. Una vez dado el paso que supone el amar sin restricciones, sabiendo de donde se viene pero sin menospreciar lo que el mundo puede ofrecer, empieza un crecimiento doloroso, ya que implica el elegir, el no poder tener todo al mismo tiempo.
Una vez que decidi que Inglaterra era algo mas que un lugar de paso, mi alma se convirtio en una division que no resta, sino suma. Requiere esfurzo mantener todas las partes equilibradas, no perder el Norte en en este mar de dudas.
Ahora he descubierto que todos los lugares tienen el don de ser lugares de paso. El mundo tiene tanto que ofrecer que jamas podre entender a los que quieren reducirlo y excluirse de esta corriente tan potente que nos conecta.
Sin embargo, de vez en cuando llama la tierra. Alto y claro...Y la sangre se revuelve en el interior y hay que escuchar el cuento del orgullo.
Al menos nosotros tenemos el privilgio de la libertad, de la q no todos pueden gozar. Me pregunto que sucederia en caso contrario...Que sucederia si hubiese tenido que venir aqui en contra de mi voluntad, si mis manos estuviesen atadas a un destino que no fuese mi eleccion.
Solo se me ocurre que seria una pena desaprovechar esta oportunidad de elegir espacios, de poder expresar desde aqui u otro hemisferio cuanto siento y quiero lo que tengo aqui y ahora. Lo demas, son lecciones de historia; que cada cual las interprete a su antojo pero que nadie se las deje usar como arma para conforntarnos. Que de eso ya hemos tenido bastante.
Lo que siempre dimos por sentado, empieza a ser cuestionado con el saber que otorga el don de la ocmparacion. De ahi vendra esa frase tan nuestra de que: "como en la casa de uno..." Y al final ya se sabe que la sabiduria poular es mucha sabiduria. Haria falta una buena dosis de filosofia para encontrar contra argumentos que hecharan por tierra sus tesis tan llenas de razon y sentido comun.
Rosalia, en su meloso tono melancolico, solia quejarse de lo duro que es dejar amigos por estragnos, dejar todo lo que se quiere para adentrarse en un mundo ajeno...
Pero ese mundo tambien puede llegar a enamorar. Yo estaria incompleta sin el. Una vez dado el paso que supone el amar sin restricciones, sabiendo de donde se viene pero sin menospreciar lo que el mundo puede ofrecer, empieza un crecimiento doloroso, ya que implica el elegir, el no poder tener todo al mismo tiempo.
Una vez que decidi que Inglaterra era algo mas que un lugar de paso, mi alma se convirtio en una division que no resta, sino suma. Requiere esfurzo mantener todas las partes equilibradas, no perder el Norte en en este mar de dudas.
Ahora he descubierto que todos los lugares tienen el don de ser lugares de paso. El mundo tiene tanto que ofrecer que jamas podre entender a los que quieren reducirlo y excluirse de esta corriente tan potente que nos conecta.
Sin embargo, de vez en cuando llama la tierra. Alto y claro...Y la sangre se revuelve en el interior y hay que escuchar el cuento del orgullo.
Al menos nosotros tenemos el privilgio de la libertad, de la q no todos pueden gozar. Me pregunto que sucederia en caso contrario...Que sucederia si hubiese tenido que venir aqui en contra de mi voluntad, si mis manos estuviesen atadas a un destino que no fuese mi eleccion.
Solo se me ocurre que seria una pena desaprovechar esta oportunidad de elegir espacios, de poder expresar desde aqui u otro hemisferio cuanto siento y quiero lo que tengo aqui y ahora. Lo demas, son lecciones de historia; que cada cual las interprete a su antojo pero que nadie se las deje usar como arma para conforntarnos. Que de eso ya hemos tenido bastante.
Friday 9 July 2010
Ola de calor
Poco a poco van aumentando las temperaturas en Londres. Yo ya no se a que se deben estos calores tan poco usuales por estas tierras.
Pude que, por primera vez en los cinco agnos que llevo aqui, el verano se hya decidido a hacer acto de presencia y justicia a lo que implica su nombre.
Puede que la visita de Leonardo Dicaprio a Leicester Square haya contribuído a elevar los grados entre las que estuvimos presentes, haciendo insoportablemente calurosa una tarde de Julio sin sombra a la luz de las estrellas de Hollywood.
Puede que el calentamiento global sea, al fin y al cabo, algo mas que pamplinas o cuentos para no dormir de extremistas a los que les gusta lo verde mas que a Lorca.
Pese a todas estas razones de peso, para explicar algo tan extraordinário, me veo obligada a decantarme por una opcion mas cientifica y repleta de lógica: Tengo mis razones para sospechar que esta ola de calor proviene directamente de Sudafrica y esta propiciada por unos cuantos chicos que, vestidos en calzones y en camiseta roja, se han empegnado en darnos el gustazo de tener ilusion.
El pronostico indica que las temperaturas seguiran en alza, sobre todo desde que esta magnana el vidente Paul, desde su estudio en un acuario aleman, haya disparado el subidon generalizado con sus predicciones. Vamos listos si pretendemos paliar esta ola de calor con vasitos de agua o pintas de cerveza. Necesitaremos litros de ambos elixires para sofocar lo que nos espera.
Alguno de los efectos de este fenomeno meteorológico que ya ha llegado al Reino Unido y se conoce como La Furia, es la presencia en zonas clave de la capital Inglesa de una bandera tricolor muy familair ...Eros, en Picadilly Circus, ya ha sucumbido a su encanto.
No se preocupen si vienen de visita y se encuentran a los guiris tarareando un estribillo pegadizo que dice algo asi como: “yo soi espaniol, espaniol, espaniol”. No es que se hayan vuelto locos. Ni ustedes, ni ellos. Al parecer es contagioso, asi que, si es Usted hostil o alérgico al buen rollo, mantengase alejado. La mala noticia es que dudo que encuentre algun rincon en esta ciudad en donde pueda huir de la Fiebre. De momento, no se conoce cura, aunque creemos tener el antídoto.
Asi que paciencia....Estamos a punto de descubrir el ingrediente final. Sea cual sea, lo visto hasta la fecha no tiene precedentes. Partiendo de ahi...todo es posible.
Pude que, por primera vez en los cinco agnos que llevo aqui, el verano se hya decidido a hacer acto de presencia y justicia a lo que implica su nombre.
Puede que la visita de Leonardo Dicaprio a Leicester Square haya contribuído a elevar los grados entre las que estuvimos presentes, haciendo insoportablemente calurosa una tarde de Julio sin sombra a la luz de las estrellas de Hollywood.
Puede que el calentamiento global sea, al fin y al cabo, algo mas que pamplinas o cuentos para no dormir de extremistas a los que les gusta lo verde mas que a Lorca.
Pese a todas estas razones de peso, para explicar algo tan extraordinário, me veo obligada a decantarme por una opcion mas cientifica y repleta de lógica: Tengo mis razones para sospechar que esta ola de calor proviene directamente de Sudafrica y esta propiciada por unos cuantos chicos que, vestidos en calzones y en camiseta roja, se han empegnado en darnos el gustazo de tener ilusion.
El pronostico indica que las temperaturas seguiran en alza, sobre todo desde que esta magnana el vidente Paul, desde su estudio en un acuario aleman, haya disparado el subidon generalizado con sus predicciones. Vamos listos si pretendemos paliar esta ola de calor con vasitos de agua o pintas de cerveza. Necesitaremos litros de ambos elixires para sofocar lo que nos espera.
Alguno de los efectos de este fenomeno meteorológico que ya ha llegado al Reino Unido y se conoce como La Furia, es la presencia en zonas clave de la capital Inglesa de una bandera tricolor muy familair ...Eros, en Picadilly Circus, ya ha sucumbido a su encanto.
No se preocupen si vienen de visita y se encuentran a los guiris tarareando un estribillo pegadizo que dice algo asi como: “yo soi espaniol, espaniol, espaniol”. No es que se hayan vuelto locos. Ni ustedes, ni ellos. Al parecer es contagioso, asi que, si es Usted hostil o alérgico al buen rollo, mantengase alejado. La mala noticia es que dudo que encuentre algun rincon en esta ciudad en donde pueda huir de la Fiebre. De momento, no se conoce cura, aunque creemos tener el antídoto.
Asi que paciencia....Estamos a punto de descubrir el ingrediente final. Sea cual sea, lo visto hasta la fecha no tiene precedentes. Partiendo de ahi...todo es posible.
BREAKING NEWS...Octopus Paul has spoken and he has chosen....
That's it!!! That's why in Galicia we like Octopus that muchhhh!!!!
El Pulpo Paul ha hablado y ha decidido que el mejillon mas rico estaba en la caja de ..... Spain!!!! Y ole!!!
Segun fuentes fidelignas ha tardado menos de 5 segundos en decidirse... Espero que con es decision ataquen la porteria los spaniards strikers!!
PS...Tienes que meterte en El Pais digital y pinchar en la seccion de La Roja por el mundo ( o algo asi), que es donde los espaniolitos que andamos desperdigados comentamos la jugada y le deseamos lo mejor a la Roja desde la distancia!!!
El Pulpo Paul ha hablado y ha decidido que el mejillon mas rico estaba en la caja de ..... Spain!!!! Y ole!!!
Segun fuentes fidelignas ha tardado menos de 5 segundos en decidirse... Espero que con es decision ataquen la porteria los spaniards strikers!!
PS...Tienes que meterte en El Pais digital y pinchar en la seccion de La Roja por el mundo ( o algo asi), que es donde los espaniolitos que andamos desperdigados comentamos la jugada y le deseamos lo mejor a la Roja desde la distancia!!!
Tuesday 6 July 2010
My cleavage moment
For a moment here I thought I had lost the plot, but my constant attachment to have everything under control, reassured me into the line of my script.
I am a bit tired of knowing so well what I want.
London has showed me the fugacity of things, the possibility of new beginnings and the cruelty and hope that lies under every loss.
London is a sum of the days that you spend looking for yourself in a city where everybody is lost, where every casted away soul comes to shore in the floating island of moody moons looking for shelter.
I am here, surrounded by all the Celtic trees and I dream of home, finding that the home I love is not a place but a past, an idea, a meaning that some earth and flesh brought to life in the very same moment that I took my first breath.
I miss it sometimes, probably today more than ever, as I know my compass is looking for a new rhythm for my feet to dance.
I miss my friends, our hours of laughter in the dock from where once we dreamt to sail away. I always found curious that to be at home had the gift of wanting to be somewhere else, and to be somewhere else the curse of wanting to be at home. It's the never ending story; the quest for happiness which, of course, is just the conquest of few truly meaningful moments out of years of existence. But following your heart in such a quest...Is the thrill of a life time, worthy more than all the gold in the world. We all find that in the most mysterious ways...As Bono would say.
I miss the mystery that the future used to have and the fearless attitude that I had towards it.
Growing older it's difficult because not everything changes as the same speed as we do. Somethings remain the same, defying our walk in time. But there is something positive about collecting years and that is the acquisition of perspective to assimilate the mistakes and learn from the few good movements obtained in this game called life.
For me this might be one of them. My cleavage moment as two opposite sectors are coming together in the major benefit of the all.
Since I did not have the chance to have a good look knowing that it would be the last one, I just remember from heart how it used to be that expression of security in your eyes...and that's all I want to take to keep on the journey. Saving that, nothing else matters.
I am a bit tired of knowing so well what I want.
London has showed me the fugacity of things, the possibility of new beginnings and the cruelty and hope that lies under every loss.
London is a sum of the days that you spend looking for yourself in a city where everybody is lost, where every casted away soul comes to shore in the floating island of moody moons looking for shelter.
I am here, surrounded by all the Celtic trees and I dream of home, finding that the home I love is not a place but a past, an idea, a meaning that some earth and flesh brought to life in the very same moment that I took my first breath.
I miss it sometimes, probably today more than ever, as I know my compass is looking for a new rhythm for my feet to dance.
I miss my friends, our hours of laughter in the dock from where once we dreamt to sail away. I always found curious that to be at home had the gift of wanting to be somewhere else, and to be somewhere else the curse of wanting to be at home. It's the never ending story; the quest for happiness which, of course, is just the conquest of few truly meaningful moments out of years of existence. But following your heart in such a quest...Is the thrill of a life time, worthy more than all the gold in the world. We all find that in the most mysterious ways...As Bono would say.
I miss the mystery that the future used to have and the fearless attitude that I had towards it.
Growing older it's difficult because not everything changes as the same speed as we do. Somethings remain the same, defying our walk in time. But there is something positive about collecting years and that is the acquisition of perspective to assimilate the mistakes and learn from the few good movements obtained in this game called life.
For me this might be one of them. My cleavage moment as two opposite sectors are coming together in the major benefit of the all.
Since I did not have the chance to have a good look knowing that it would be the last one, I just remember from heart how it used to be that expression of security in your eyes...and that's all I want to take to keep on the journey. Saving that, nothing else matters.
Monday 5 July 2010
Ivan
Ojala pudieramos ofrecete un mundo con mas sentido y mas perfecto, pero en un dia como hoy, ningun futuro parece negro.
Has llegado cambiando la perspectiva de todo.
En un minuto nos has hecho a todos un poco mas mayores, alejandonos de una vida que jamas sera la misma, que nunca mas tendra sentido sin ti.
Apareciste con tus piececitos y tus manitas blancas envueltas en la piel de tu madre y, rompiendo el silendio con tus gritos, exigiste tu derecho a la vida, impusiste tu presencia en el universo que te acogio como tambien lo hicieron esos brazos que desde hoy seran para ti mas qe una familia: por siempre seran tu Norte, tu puerto, tu refugio, tu apoyo, los pilares de tu existencia.
Para ellos tu seras todo eso y mucho mas. Seras la esperanza, que es el don mas grandioso del ser humano.
Naciste al mismo tiempo que mi instinto de proteccion, que mi alegria y mi miedo.
En tu pequegno cuerpo se materializan todas los suegnos pasados y venideros y los portaras por mucho tiempo sin conocer cuanto significan para nosotros, hasta que un dia lo descubras por ti mismo.Porque un dia esos suegnos seran tuyos y tambien los querras conquistar y compartir.
A partir de hoy aprenderas el mundo por boca de los que queremos que lo comprendas, que lo cuestiones, que lo aceptes y que lo cambies cuando las circunstancias lo requieran.
Tambien aprenderas el pasado y estaras ligado a su tierra que te acoge y que llevas en la sangre como un don al que jamas debes renunciar.
Yo, que conozco el deseo que lucia en los ojos de los que te esperaban con ansiedad, hoy, mas que nunca y gracias a ti, creo en la posibilidad de la perfeccion. Tu eres la prueba de que el mundo se renueva, no importa cuanto nos esforcemos por estropearlo. La vida siempre se abre camnio, iniciando nuevas posibilidades.
Y si hay algo que merezca ser celebrado, es el comienzo de una vida. La tuya. La nuestra. Porque hoy empieza el magnana. Bienvenido.
Has llegado cambiando la perspectiva de todo.
En un minuto nos has hecho a todos un poco mas mayores, alejandonos de una vida que jamas sera la misma, que nunca mas tendra sentido sin ti.
Apareciste con tus piececitos y tus manitas blancas envueltas en la piel de tu madre y, rompiendo el silendio con tus gritos, exigiste tu derecho a la vida, impusiste tu presencia en el universo que te acogio como tambien lo hicieron esos brazos que desde hoy seran para ti mas qe una familia: por siempre seran tu Norte, tu puerto, tu refugio, tu apoyo, los pilares de tu existencia.
Para ellos tu seras todo eso y mucho mas. Seras la esperanza, que es el don mas grandioso del ser humano.
Naciste al mismo tiempo que mi instinto de proteccion, que mi alegria y mi miedo.
En tu pequegno cuerpo se materializan todas los suegnos pasados y venideros y los portaras por mucho tiempo sin conocer cuanto significan para nosotros, hasta que un dia lo descubras por ti mismo.Porque un dia esos suegnos seran tuyos y tambien los querras conquistar y compartir.
A partir de hoy aprenderas el mundo por boca de los que queremos que lo comprendas, que lo cuestiones, que lo aceptes y que lo cambies cuando las circunstancias lo requieran.
Tambien aprenderas el pasado y estaras ligado a su tierra que te acoge y que llevas en la sangre como un don al que jamas debes renunciar.
Yo, que conozco el deseo que lucia en los ojos de los que te esperaban con ansiedad, hoy, mas que nunca y gracias a ti, creo en la posibilidad de la perfeccion. Tu eres la prueba de que el mundo se renueva, no importa cuanto nos esforcemos por estropearlo. La vida siempre se abre camnio, iniciando nuevas posibilidades.
Y si hay algo que merezca ser celebrado, es el comienzo de una vida. La tuya. La nuestra. Porque hoy empieza el magnana. Bienvenido.
Saturday 3 July 2010
De que pasta estan hechos.
Una noche mas la luna me encuentra despierta a las dos de la magnana.
Claro esta que el unico culpable de mi situacion actual ha sido el exceso de Coca Cola que ahora mismito me esta pasando factura. Que me quiten lo baila porque el resto se diluira en mi sangre siempre avida de azucar.
Como la noche anterior tambien me ha entrado la gusa a estas horas. Para paiar el mono de etos ataques nocturnos de hambre lo mejor es dormi o caer en la tentacion, abrir el paquete de muffins y masticar hasta saciar el apetito.
Que antojo mas tonto, pero hay que celebrar la victoria de la furia contra Paraguay, la inspiracion de Villa y la existencia de la suerte (o de la probabilidad, como diria mi empirico primo catalan) que hizo que Casillas parase ese gol.
Tambien otras cosas. Pero, como todo en la vida, es mejor no cantar victoria hasta tener el trofeo en mis manos. Y esta batalla de resultado incierto, asi como mi seleccion la luchara contra los alemanes, yo la lucho conmigo misma.
A estas alturas de mi vida nadie mas seria capaz de tentarme a abandonar este vision de un futuro distinto, si cabe, mejor, aunque tampoco soy tan ilusa como para vivir de esa fantasia. No es que sea ninguna fuente de sabiduria, pero tampoco hace falta ser muy listos para conocerme un pokito y saber que las piedras en las que tropiezo, yo misma las pongo deliberadamente en mi camino. Aun no he encontrado a ese alguien con el que medir mis fuerzas, bien para alzarlas en contra o bien para deponer las armas y, como canta Bono, entregarme al sweet surrender.
Como veia venir la duda; y lentamente va desembocando en el stress de pensar en pequegnas cosas tal y como el apagnarmelas para lavar mi ropa, en que llevar de equipaje, en como no echcar de menos Londres, en que vendra despues... Pero me puede mas el entregarme a la intriga que el vivr en el suspense. No soy muy dada a las situaciones Hitchcotescas. Me va la marcha, como se diria en los 80's.
Ay...Hablando de todo un poco, me ha dado el suegno. El de verdad...Los otros...Claro esta que el que no mueva su culo, jamas descubrira de que el o ella y ellos estan hechos.
Claro esta que el unico culpable de mi situacion actual ha sido el exceso de Coca Cola que ahora mismito me esta pasando factura. Que me quiten lo baila porque el resto se diluira en mi sangre siempre avida de azucar.
Como la noche anterior tambien me ha entrado la gusa a estas horas. Para paiar el mono de etos ataques nocturnos de hambre lo mejor es dormi o caer en la tentacion, abrir el paquete de muffins y masticar hasta saciar el apetito.
Que antojo mas tonto, pero hay que celebrar la victoria de la furia contra Paraguay, la inspiracion de Villa y la existencia de la suerte (o de la probabilidad, como diria mi empirico primo catalan) que hizo que Casillas parase ese gol.
Tambien otras cosas. Pero, como todo en la vida, es mejor no cantar victoria hasta tener el trofeo en mis manos. Y esta batalla de resultado incierto, asi como mi seleccion la luchara contra los alemanes, yo la lucho conmigo misma.
A estas alturas de mi vida nadie mas seria capaz de tentarme a abandonar este vision de un futuro distinto, si cabe, mejor, aunque tampoco soy tan ilusa como para vivir de esa fantasia. No es que sea ninguna fuente de sabiduria, pero tampoco hace falta ser muy listos para conocerme un pokito y saber que las piedras en las que tropiezo, yo misma las pongo deliberadamente en mi camino. Aun no he encontrado a ese alguien con el que medir mis fuerzas, bien para alzarlas en contra o bien para deponer las armas y, como canta Bono, entregarme al sweet surrender.
Como veia venir la duda; y lentamente va desembocando en el stress de pensar en pequegnas cosas tal y como el apagnarmelas para lavar mi ropa, en que llevar de equipaje, en como no echcar de menos Londres, en que vendra despues... Pero me puede mas el entregarme a la intriga que el vivr en el suspense. No soy muy dada a las situaciones Hitchcotescas. Me va la marcha, como se diria en los 80's.
Ay...Hablando de todo un poco, me ha dado el suegno. El de verdad...Los otros...Claro esta que el que no mueva su culo, jamas descubrira de que el o ella y ellos estan hechos.
Friday 2 July 2010
tired
What is the distance left to run? How long? How much? Because I am willing to pay but, please, remove from me the missing part. I cannot stand it anymore.
It's 2 o'clock in the morning and I am so hungry. And all I do is listening to this song and I try to catch some sleep, but this abrupt sadness keeps me restless; so all I do now is pray to be right, to be taking the right decision of leaving once more while I force myself to believe that I am not running away.
But I am not. Or maybe I am. All this shit of not getting used to any place... till when? Who am I that everywhere seems so small? What am I scared of?
Exactly in this line...In this verse I feel we are together tonight, even though we are falling apart, we are breaking ourselves down for the sake of .... I wished I knew.
How many roads more? There is no line in the palm of my hand that traces a clear destiny. I am sorry you are not in there either. It breaks my heart that you don't even care and that the only thing you do is watch me dying slowly because you never had the gust to finish me up.
All I've got now is this great need to leave this place. I cannot stand it anymore. It burns...In a way that not even words can explain. So, in the middle of this wordless night full of starts I give myself to the sorrow I'll never ever will want to feel again. And I set fire on the love I once felt, because it's over now.
"A life time"...My fortune teller...you should have been more specific, though you probably weren't' talking about him. Who else apart from me has the patient to keep on dying for a whole life?
It's 2 o'clock in the morning and I am so hungry. And all I do is listening to this song and I try to catch some sleep, but this abrupt sadness keeps me restless; so all I do now is pray to be right, to be taking the right decision of leaving once more while I force myself to believe that I am not running away.
But I am not. Or maybe I am. All this shit of not getting used to any place... till when? Who am I that everywhere seems so small? What am I scared of?
Exactly in this line...In this verse I feel we are together tonight, even though we are falling apart, we are breaking ourselves down for the sake of .... I wished I knew.
How many roads more? There is no line in the palm of my hand that traces a clear destiny. I am sorry you are not in there either. It breaks my heart that you don't even care and that the only thing you do is watch me dying slowly because you never had the gust to finish me up.
All I've got now is this great need to leave this place. I cannot stand it anymore. It burns...In a way that not even words can explain. So, in the middle of this wordless night full of starts I give myself to the sorrow I'll never ever will want to feel again. And I set fire on the love I once felt, because it's over now.
"A life time"...My fortune teller...you should have been more specific, though you probably weren't' talking about him. Who else apart from me has the patient to keep on dying for a whole life?
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