Tuesday 22 November 2011

Itaca

So the whole horizon seems blue…pink for you, who always wanted to live a life different to the one you have. Take a deep breath. Are you ready? Well, you better are, because this is it. You are not going to follow that shooting star because you never really wanted it. At this very moment it might be flying around the cosmos, patiently waiting for the eyes that deserve it, allowing the dreamers to dream and the poets to write. It will be crashing soon because it all ends. And probably all its trajectory was a waste of time and space. How would anyone allow that to happen? Permitting the waste, the loosing of moments that are here and now for those who will never come? Who is in charge of such a poor organization? It isn’t me. That I can assure. I am here passing by. Just like the rest, but not quite like the rest. First, they told me to follow my heart, to aspire and try to get that that I wanted. And I did. And I failed. It’s not as easy as it seems. I mean, trying is the best part, but when all the effort comes to nothing. What can I say? Well, it’s not pleasant to live with all that is left. Basically, few words and some pieces of your soul scattered all over the crime scene, displayed in the open light, making you more vulnerable to judgment. They also said the fight makes you stronger, but you only get to see the results in the long run. That if you have the patient for it, of course. I was contempt with having my songs, my books, my films, my world all by myself. I was happy in there, in my imagined island fooling the world. Then you came in and changed it all. It usually happens when you cross your path with destiny. Nobody could resist that. So there is only one way to go. In my life I’ve met a lot of people who can control that call. They know how to silence the noise of the beats drumming like crazy inside your chest. But I was never tempted to live under that code. I wish I was, but I am not made of that wood. All I ever wanted was to love you and see the world. I didn’t care how I would walk those miles, because there was a time when I had the stamina to save any distance. I don’t want to write more about it. I feel like Rimbaud. Or at least I can imagine what he felt: disappointment, the roughness and weight of life on his amputated heart, on his inert poetry, on the impotent and cynic world in which he lived that never was willing to make a revolution for the sake of love. I am tired. You know why. You came to be like the corrupted politician who knows that all the demands he made will remain unfulfilled. You came to be what I feared the most: Words full of air. And still I waited. For the sake of the future, of the dream, of the stream of passion that runs wild inside me. It might sound selfish, but I dared to dream about you knowing that the dream will end. And every time it does in the same way: You vanish. Just like that. Like if you never were. Which Gods do we construct to worship? Which stupid reaction drives us to those who cannot cope with the energy we need to burn, to share, to ignite in the world to make it a better world? What’s wrong with a world that doesn’t care for those who try to save it? What’s wrong with me, blowing it up every time they give me the chance? I’d risked my life again. After all, I’d still do it. So that’s a creed I wouldn’t ask anyone to follow; but it’s only a personal one. Imposition does not exist in my vocabulary. I am running nowhere this time. As Damon Albarn said, I’ve got not distance left. So the plan, after all this Odyssey, is to build my shattered island once again. And live there happy forever after, like in a fairy tale. I’ll build a window to watch the world pass by, to listen to those who always inspired me through time and in time. I’ll keep my promises to myself. You don’t need to breath for me. You don’t need to watch over me. You don’t even need to remember me. I won’t be there for you as once I wanted to. We are meant to be free. That’s a precious gift, and I never again will be so selfish to ask someone to give it up to join me in this crazy idea of living the dream. La vida es como el mar. Hay que entregarse a ella como las olas.

Sunday 13 November 2011

El mundo en un grano de arena

Viene el frio implacable sin importarle que los simples mortals estemos o no preparados para su llegada. Cuando en Inglaterra todo eran quejas sobre el clima, ya hiciese frio o calor, brillase el sol o callese el chapurron del siglo, aqui el discurso meteorologico es totalmente diferente. Los daneses parecen estar de lo mas emocionados con la llegada de la nieve, como si cada copo trajese un pan debajo del brazo o un motivo para estar feliz. Y es que esto de la felicidad constante danesa me tiene un poco mosqueda. En parte porque soy gallega y mi codigo genetico me impusla a la desconfianza y en parte porque vengo de estar en un pais en el que la alegria magnanera solia levanter sospechas e irritacion en los lugaregnos. Aqui es al contrario. Si no sonries a diestro y siniestro, eres raro y muy pero que muy antisocial, lo que es una especie de crimen por estos lares. La verdad es que se me van a desgastar los dientes de tanto ensegnarlos, aunque a veces no se si lo hago en segnal de apreciacion y acercamiento o de cabreo. Porque la verdad es que en Oz no todo es color de rosa. Digamos que, como Dylan solia cantar, los tiempos estan cambiando. Si no hace tanto los estereotipos eran motivo de acercamiento, de descubrimiento y curiosidad, ahora parece que vuelven con una fuerza inquitante e inusitada para establecer barreras y marcar diferencias. Yo, la verdad sea dicha, nunca fui muy amiga de los encasillamientos por eso de que su falsa universalidad nunca hace justicia a las maravillosas particularidades de cada individuo. Sin embargo, los usamos para darle sentido a ciertas cosas; el peligro reside en que a veces los secuestramos para quitarselo. En ocasiones, nuestro entendimiento peca de vagancia y se conforma con lo que otros quieren que pensemos u opinemos. William Blake, romantico como era, decia que el mundo puede verse en un grano de arena. No es un ejercicio de lo mas sencillo, pero solo require un poco de voluntad y coraje. Creo que, no solo Europa, pero el mundo entero, necesita un poco mas de valentia, de querer ver el mundo en un grano de arena y no aislarse en una playa desierta sin diversidad ni atardecers cambiantes. Necesitamos sonreir, reirnos de las adversidades que construimos y cambiar las sospechas por curiosidad y acercamiento.Si nos paramos a pensarlo…Que tenemos que perder por atrevernos e intentarlo?

The Golden Door

It seems accents are, after all, not a source of exoticism, but an identity label, as much as the colour of your skin or your eyes is. Honestly, I am too lazy to speak about all these things I don’t believe in. I don’t want to give this fucked up world more excuses to ignite hate or whatever certain things people make you feel when they do what they do. I really want to keep on walking with an anonymous passport around all the fascinating places they remain to be discovered. It was really funny what happened to me today. Here I was, at Paludane, a total classy and cosy coffee shop in central Copenhagen, with my laptop, writing and checking my facebook from time to time, when this Danish guy and his father sit next to me. The young one addressed me in Danish and, well, I’ve been here for only two months; I am less than a beginner in this language. I guess that he noticed by my expression that I did understand nothing of what he was saying, so he immediately changed into English and with a rather shaking voice he asked me: -Oh…So…Are u Danish or what? (I think he meant: “Where are you from” or “Do you speak Danish”? …But…ok. Whatever) -No -Ah…Sorry… Ok, because… We are gonna talk …Do you mind? How nice was that? I mean I get it all the time with the male population in this country. They are polite in a sweet way I really find charming. I guess I do because I sense they mean it. I must say though that girls are different. They are more defiant and aggressive. Yesterday, while queuing to get a coffee in Espresso shop (bloody hell…They are so expensive. I think I’ll have to cut down on my major vice or go into a credit crunch in Spanish style) this girl came in and stepped in front of me. I didn’t say anything. I mean…Why should I? I wasn’t in a rush after all, so I allowed her to get along with it. However, two minutes later, after the waiter gave her a dirty look, she looked backwards, and in a very irritating tone she barked something at me. I made logical translation and I told her that it was ok, I didn’t mind. I do hate that kind of attitude. Honestly, why people have to do that? I would have had a better conception of her if she didn’t say anything at all. The way she “apologised” (because that’s what I think she was trying to do) was even worse than the fact she was plainly rude. And you are allowed to have a bad day, but not really to be an asshole 24x7. In that case, you don’t have a bad day: You have a huge problem. But, you cannot judge…Don’t do it Raquel. Keep an open and positive attitude. Try to learn, to absorb, to understand, to decode from a perspective that needs to be changed or moulded to get used to the new environment. Oh Damn! Let me tell you a secret: It’s difficult. I am tired. Curiosity
and tiredness shouldn’t go together. I must admit I feel an emigrant. Sometimes I do also in my own country, and this discomfort drives you to exhaustion and keeps you on in equal terms. Finding the balance is the key to happiness, the key to have the courage to carry on when you feel out of faith and energy in all the aspects of your life. Now I sound like a guru. I am just trying to discover by myself the entrance of the Golden Door and walk in.

Tuesday 8 November 2011

Dare

You are here. You came in the night, sorrounded by your aura of mystery and playfulness and all those things I want to discover and posses. If you ask me, I think it's unfair wanting so bad to belong, to have, to get, when all my life I respected freedom, I wanted to be untied and let the river flow. All of a sudden I find myself wishing things I sometimes wanted, things I thought I wouldn't want again. But I do. Just when you think you are free form the earthly needs, you discover that you aren't. I am as human as everybody else. You came bringing your smile and everything was right and at peace. But time is decieving me because it seems everything stops when we are together when it only goes faster. Have a look at the world outside, how it contemplates us knowing what's going to happen. He knows us and I am the only one to blame for it. I think I was kind of predictable and so was the answer to my question. What a mess I am able to create out of nothing. It takes some skill to do soemthing like it. Either that or I am naturally gifted. I wonder what's so difficult in bringing to the stage a "yes" or a "no" without the noise in between. I thnk Arild was right: -Your question is too specific. Well, let me bring you the news Mr Fetveit: I am glad it was because I constructed it with that objective in mind. Apparently, it's much better to confuse, to make people believe that you mean exactly the oppossite of what you are saying...really?! No. It can't be. Sweet naivite. I need to get rid of it and start making truly complex statements. Or stop trying to pour my soul in each confession I make because, clearly, it's totally useless. Nevertheless, I must admit I like it. It makes me feel alive. You see? I don't need to be a "matador" or a racing car driver to feel adrenaline bumping in my heart, controling my whole body, sensing that the taste of passion makes me feel inmortal. Not at all. From time to time, the only thing I need it's to say what I feel. How many people tries that? I bet nobody. That's why we need to bring back romanticism and romantics from the forsaken land of the imagination where they were outcaseted. We need a better world that people can believe in and build, not one full of restrcitions and fears and already made sentences that we repit till the exhaustion and disenchantment of the mind and soul. We need to want to feel alive. It's a simple task that this box made an impossible goal. We are so saturated with promisses and vanal temptations that we feel contempt just with looking at them without trying to get them. We only need daring to reach what is there for us to catch. ...If you'd only dared...

Saturday 5 November 2011

cuanto lo quieres

Todas estas canciones hablan de lo mismo, de la misma historia que se repite como deseamos que se repitan las cosas buenas que tiene esta vida y que, cuando no lo pensamos, creemos que duraran siempre. Paseamos por la supreficie de este planeta como si fuesemos los dignos descendientes de los antiguos dioses griegos y los herederos de su inmortalidad por la que solian envidiarnos. El tiempo nos dio la razon. Venimos, cambiamos, hacemos la revolucion, el amor, la guerra y la paz y desaparecemos; nos esvanecesmo en el infinito universo que nunca nos pertencecio por mucho que lo hubiesemos pretendoido. Nos presto su belleza, sus incognitas para que nuestro tiempo aqui fuese mas llevadero. Nos arrojo a los ojos el polvo de estrellas del que un dia formamos parte y nos empujo a seguirlo buscando, aunque nucna tuviesemos del todo claro que es lo que queriamos encontrar. Ha llegado el invierno en el Norte de Europa, concretamente a Dinamarca, a donde ahora me encuentro. Ha llegado el frio glacial, cubriendo de silencio la belleza de esta tierra, su quitud, su misterio y su magia. Llega como una promesa, como un verdugo, como un ladron de guante blanco. Llega sin avisar, y desnuda los arboles, cubriendo los caminos de hojas que no tardaran mucho en desaparcer. Llega y tu te vas. O vienes. Vienes a mi? Me pregunto si es mi vera la que te espera o es la soledad que necesita compagnia. Me pregunto si tenerte cambiara algo que no quiero que cambie y a veces creo que no existe un caballero que me rescate de las cadenas de esta libertad que tanto amo. Que me podria ofrecer a cambio? Es que a caso hay algo mejor que esta sensacion de vivir sin bordes ni limites, sin relgas ni identidad, sin duegno ni esclavo? Que hay mejor que prometerle a la vida que le vas a entregar todo lo que tienes? Que mas podria querer de mi? Asi que no se si el que te decidas a entrar va a completar el espacio vacio que siempre he querido llenar. Temo a la rutina, a arruinar nuestars pequegnas sorpresas e intrigas diarias con saberlo todo, con caer en el tedio de no querer averiguar mas tus significados. Te deseo como enigma y el no saber que pasara si te resuelvo, me quita las ganas de intentarlo. Encender el deseo es facil. Mantener la llama, la curiosidad, las ganas...Es una cuesta arriba que no se si tengo la resistencia para escalar. Ya estube alli. Ya agote demasiada energia. Ya...Suena a determinista o derrotista. No me encierro en esta torre ni lo pongo dificil. Solo conozco el sabor amargo de abandonar el campo de batalla, y se que no quiero porbarlo de nuevo. Se lo que quiero. Lo tengo en frente. Cuanto lo quiero? Lo vamos a descubrir juntos.

Un ritmo diferente (mundooursense)

Ser una emigrante academica en Dinamarca esta resultando ser una experiencia bastante diferente a lo que era ser una emigrante laboral en Inglaterra. La vida de estudiante en este pequeno pais es de lo mas peculiar. La organiacion no es de lo mejor, empezando por el hecho de que la Universidad carece de suficientes viviendas para estudiantes extranjeros. El problema surge cuando aprendes que en Copenhagen, conseguir una habitacion en un piso compartido, se convierte en una mision identica a conseguir tickets para una final de Wimbledon: O los precios estan por las nubes o, sencillamente, no hay oferta, con lo que muchos estudiantes se ven obligados a pasarse semanas alojados en hostales hasta que encuentran algo. Independientemente del numero de estrellas que tengan los hoteles mas economicos, esto es Dinamarca: Son caros, sobre todo si eres estudiante con un poder adquisitivo no del todo compatible con el nivel de vida de este pais. Cuando, entre desesperado y arruinado, consigues abandonar la vida nomada de sabanas alquiladas, empieza la tarea de adaptarte a la cultura bastante tranquilota de los daneses. En los puestos del gobierno, la cosa funciona mas o menos como en Espana: trabajan lo minimo y parece que les pagan por palabra porque las respuestas sencillas y directas a los problemas mas nimios, sencillamente, no existen en su vocabulario. De donde habremos sacado el mito escandinavo de personas serias y organizadas? Mis primeras impresiones lo estan tirando por tierra. Aqui, diez personas distintas te daran diez versiones diferentes de los echos. Desde conseguir un carnet de estudiante, a abirr una cuenta de banco o ser asignada a un doctor, todo depende de tu suerte en dar con la persona adecuada que te explique exactamente que es lo que necesitas. En resumen, el ser mandada de un lado a otro para hacer cualquier tramite administrativo, parece ser el pasatiempo favorito de los lugaregnos. Creo que es una estrategia local para que los que no somos de aqui nos desquiciemos y volvamos a nuestro pais. Cuando te vas haciendo a estas rutinas y piensas que las cosas empiezan a rodar...Llega el obstaculo de todos los obstaculos: El idioma . Me pregunto para que querran ser bilingues y jactarse de ello si al final todos los documentos oficiales te llegan unicamente en Danes!? Lo que mas rabia me da es que no puedo quejarme, porque, al fin y al cabo, es el idioma oficial del pais. Asi que me esta saliendo complejo de Embajadora Espanola en Uzbequistan porque tengo que estar todo el dia pegada a un traductor personal para que me resuelva la vida. Me temo que el diccionario, en mi nivel -1 de comprension, es todavia inservible. El truco esta en armarse de paciencia por muy poca cosa que estas adversidades hagan que te sientas. Es una impotencia de lo mas incomoda. Pero tengo que ser justa. Admito que el estar aqui tinene muchas cosas positivas. El cafe es mejor que en Inglaterra. Las cafeterias tambien porque no hay grandes cadenas que homogeinicen el mercado: Cada lugar tiene sus peculiaridades, precios y bollitos. Tambien me gusta la sensacion de sentirme segura alla a donde voy, no importa la hora que sea. Y me encanta la carencia de estres. Aunque tu mente circule a mil por hora, aqui la vida va un poco mas lenta. Es algo que siempre se agradece cuando te tienes que acostumbrar a tantas novedades.

I am still here

Las night I dreamt I was going back. Back to the past, to the places I used to roam, to the known alleys and my missed views. But I had a weird unpleasent feeling. I didn't want to be there being aware I had given up what I am destinied to achieve. Therefore all the places I visited were there to remind me of my weackness. Still, I was so tempted to go there. I am still tempted. All the time, even though the nights are full of noises hiden in the fog, in the bubbles of the never ending rivers of beer, in the rays of sun coming out form the strangers' heads. All I want is here and now. At leats it's all I have. So I guess it is kind of absurd to hold on to my dear freedom if I dont' allow her to take me into its magical world of "Do what you want because you can. Be wherever you want to be because that is your place on earth". I guess I needed some fuel, some answers, some...light to clear up the doubts. My youthness remains alive in this constant search for that something in the streets I don't know, which names I cannot even pronounce. My youthness is gettign older and wiser evn when I am loosing my famous patience. The one who never abandonded me, stubborn as she is. I am loosing it waiting for that moment that comes and goes like the wind of this island. One day it brings me closer to extasis, and the next one I am back in the road aagin, alone, going nowhere, feeling lost. What do we want? Why do we let it go when we have it? Now it's too late. I am here, I won't go back. Think of all the things we've lost. I just think of all the things ahead of me. I don't look back in anger or sadness. All those things I miss,...I am not sure if I even miss them at all. I only see the road that goes on and on, reminding me that certain stops must be taken, but not for too long. What this one will be? I won't allow her to conquer me. Who dares to conquer the wind? I'll drink from her mouth but in the morning I'll be gone, thinking of her and how it construced me. Watching the time passing by. Mick, as always, was right: It is on our side. Because I am no longer in a rush. But I am not waiting either. Here I am. The way I am. The way I want to be.