La Union

Dice un articulo de El Pais que, segun las encuestas, la mayor parte de los ciudadanos de Espana apoyan el movimiento de los indignados; si seguimos leyendo el articulo tambien se menciona que dichas encuestas reflejan la incredulidad de la gente en que el movimiento se radicalice y concluye con que, en muy poco tiempo, nadie se acordara de que estas manifestaciones existieron.
Supongo que las encuestas tienen su parte de razon, pero los politologos sabemos que de ellas no se pueden sacar conclusiones definitivas. Sirven para apoyar ciertas conjeturas, pero los resultados no pueden generalizarse ni tomarse por verdades concluyentes. Nos dan una aproximacion a la realidad.
Por eso, aunque no es definitiva, me asusta esa sensacion de derrota, de abondono, de abulia que parece ser que es lo unico que arraiga en esta Europa tan moderna de la que todos queremos sacar beneficio pero muy pocos estamos dispuestos a aportar constructivamente aquello de lo que carece: Alma social y conciencia humanista.
Cada uno de los paises que componen la Union tiene un pasado riquisimo en heroes y villanos, y cada nacionalidad soberana presume, con cierto henchido orgullo, de que los suyos son los mas sabios y los mas sanguinarios; no importa las cualidades que se pongan en tela de juicio. Lo que hay que dejar bien claro, acentuadolo hasta la quinta potencia, es ese MAS ridiculo e inutil que pnsamos nos situa en un lugar privilegiado en la escala de popularidad y prestigio de esta Europa que cada vez me hace dudar mas de su apellido que la nombra Unida.
Si esta Union nacio de un impetu de hermandad y prosperidad, se esta torciendo su rumbo, al pujar sus timones en direcciones opuestas.
La solucion no puede cocerse exclusivamnete en Bruselas. Esa masa burocratica de expertos, no son como los dioses del Olimpo; se equivocan a pesar de que las intenciones sean buenas; a veces nos engagnan piadosamente porque han bebido y conocen que el despotismo ilustrado esta justificado para poner en marcha ciertas politicas. En ocasiones son Maquiavelicos y en otras benignos monarcas que se alardan de ese espiritu democratico inyectado por Monet.
Respaladan su insuficiente transparencia en la publicacion de sus decisiones. Pero, a caso un ciudadano no educado o motivado, bien sea Sueco, Espanol, Polaco o Aleman puede realmente entender las tramas Bruselianas que deciden nuestros destinos entre bamabalinas, dandonos un guion demasiado complejo para que entendamos nuestro papel a desempegnar? Como afrontamos esa ignorancia? como alimentamos en el individuo comun el deseo de construir, de ser parte, de ser sujeto y no mero objeto?

No somos conejillos de indias!!! Somos personas que queremos y tenemos el derecho a disfrtuar de la vida que nos han vendido. No somos idealistas o ilusos por querer y creer en que la abundancia de este lado puede ser compartida.
Somos humanos. No solo estamos para recibir ordenes y pagar las consecuencias de los errores. Pero tampoco etamos aqui exclusivamnete para recoger los frutos. No estamos exentos de responsabilidad, mi intencion no es la de poner la culpa en la cuspide de la piramide.
Si en verdad quermos que le barco avance, requerira esfuerzo y dedicacion. Conllevara alguna que otra alegria en medio de muchas penas. Pero todos estamos a bordo, y de todos depende que llegue a ese puerto que visualizaron nuestros padres. Para ellos, nosotros y los que estan llegando y llegaran.

Que pensemos que la indignacion se extinguira como si fuese una llama predestinada a perecer en los vientos de la adversidad, es aceptar un derrota sin darle a la victora una sola oportunidad.
Valemos mas que eso. Que les quede claro. Que nos quede claro.
Raquel

A weird dream...But is still London.

I woke up today after having the weirdest dream ever.
I need to experiment more with alcohol drinking, because this kind of dreams only happen after several glasses of wine.
Anyway, in my very vivid dream a couple of Indians were declared English Royalty, and what it was weird was that English people seemed to accept it. I mean...Suddenly things were all so different in London. The city looked more like Bombay, and all I was concerned about was Buckingham Palace! Were they gonna turn it into a Taj Mahal thing? What happened with William and Katie? Weren't they gonna fight for their rights? How people could accept as king and Queen someone who did not belong to the Royal family? From one day to the other, everything went "East": Tv, food, dressing codes...
Suddenly I am on a plane towards America. And I am concerned about the amount of hours I have to spend inside there, but I get to meet a business man from Denmark who is complaining about the crisis and does not stop calling his colleagues at the bank to keep an eye on his finances. Somehow I get friends with him and explain him I've got plenty of friends in his country, so he starts calling someone over there to ask if they know those people.
A friend of mine is also there, asking me how I am doing, and three seats ahead of us, a group of Southern Spanish boys that are in their way to NY to keep on working in this toy's shop, throw me a teddy bear, and my friend tells me to stop flirting with them.
Then, another male friend of mine, comes and join us. He's wearing a taggy woman's dress and starts flirting with the Danish guy...So I start to ask him what the fuck is he doing. 5 minutes later they disappear into the bathrooms.

And then,...I think it was something else, but I cannot remember it. I woke up.
Today is Saturday and London still looks like London.
In the news, more or less the same stuff. Well, Nadal made it to the final of the French Tournament, and he'll measure his strenght with Federer. Another unique final between the greatest!!!
I feel weird after having finished my University. After 4 years mentally attached to this duty, to deadlines, articles to fight with, critical thinking merging from the nothingness to never let me go, finding a completely different universe, meeting very interesting people who showed me where my passion really lies...It's weird to wake up today and find out that that process has been partially and officially completed.
Now, instead of writing about strange dreams, I should be applying for a job, looking for a flat or a plane ticket somewhere exotic. I still feel that so many things in my life are waiting for me to do them... I don't want to waste my time, but I don't know where to start from.
I keep on telling myself that after the foreign uni replies, things will be different. And they will. Whatever their answer is.

So by now, I've decided to continue my reading of all the stories that patiently waited for me all this time. I am going to SA with Vargas Llosa and to Kenya with Blixen.
I've decided that I need to focus this energy and keep going, keep moving, as Robb told me yesterday in the same pub where we went for "victory" drinks after our first last exam of the year...Amazing, but time brought us back there 4 years later...And we raised our glasses to cheers for that!!
Not even one of us was the same... We seemed completed, happy, proud and anxious to find us in the next stop of our lives.
I am ready for the ride!

Give me some time

You came back from home with loads of stories. Some of them told so sweetly, I felt like I was there. And only when I opened my eyes, I realised I was eating a semi cold pasta, never properly cooked, in the Tavistock canteen.
England...I got used to many of your habits. I got used to the summer rain, the cold and dark winter, the smell of beer in any street with a nearby pub, the pollen covering the dusty roads and getting in my nostrils, making me sneeze like crazy from late March til the beginning of June. I also got used to your rush showers, the unbearable heat in the metro in the sticky July afternoons, the sour tea without sugar, the sweetness of your lovely strawberries covered in your heavenly honey, the colour of the sky in your beautiful sunsets, removing the batter from the deep fried, almost artificial cod, accompanied with chunky chips....I got used to the silence bells, the noisy sirens of ambulances and police cars, the annoying visitors and their annoying queues and cameras (...). I love your green. It makes me feel at home. You know that.
But I did not get used to this: Learning to miss you. It breaks my heart to think in going back or going there, to a new unknown. You broke my heart from the first moment we met. You made me see home from your soil, attaching me to you, dividing my soul and thoughts, tearing me apart inside while all I was, was happy to be with you.
But you slowly built this dependence clenching to my early naive Independence. I've unconsciously got addicted to you. You are a skillful lover. I told you that many times before, but I never thought that one day I would come to understand my own words.
And yesterday he came telling me about the Spanish siestas, the family gatherings, the Atlantic breeze (..) he called me home with his words, painfully sweet, and I could feel you holding on to me, shaking when you heard me cursing your possession of my routine, of my life. I am sure I did not mean it, but I must say it loud, so i don't get to used to all the things I am not sure if I can't live without.
How do I carry you? Do I put some of your earth in my pockets, and I keep on walking, never looking back, as Allende's character did when she crossed the Andes?
Why can't you come? Don't you see am I tired? Don't you see I need to go?
Home is wherever your heart is...I cannot ask my crazy heart, always looking, never satisfied, but still so romantic. For sure he would tell me the world, though we both know he's lying. We both now there is space for more, even if you two took it almost all.
I keep on dreaming. You still give me that. You are that land I always imagined while sitting by the side of the river. You were indeed across the mountains. SO different, so beautiful, so mine.
And after all, I still wanna keep on searching. After knowing this might be it, but having an obscure certainty that it's not.
So what now? You must give me some time. Since you are immortal, you must have some.

Raquel Calling

I think I didn't make myself clear enough: I do need to take drugs to help me swallow this kind of love.
Have you seen anything like that lately? I wanted to experiment it, because some self declared messiah preached the end was near, and you always have to be a bit sceptical with these kind of things. What if he was right? Damn it!! I didn't even visit Disneyland yet. I always wanted to kick the shit out of that bastard of the yellow bird that made Silvester's life hell's on earth. What a sadic son of the bitch. You cannot be yellow and that bad at the same time...It's unreal!!
when I was little I patiently waited for my neighbour's superpowers to materialise with the coming of the new millennium. He said that, once he got them in 2000, he would be able to take me and my family on a paid holiday to Florida...I should have suspected that that wasn't gonna happen when my mum gave him a coke's can with a mark of her lipstick on it and told him it was Madonnas's. I think he still has it in a constructed altar he made for it at his house. He also called the Natural Preservation Office at the British Museum to find out how to keep the lipstick's trade intact and prevent it from fading.
He never got disappointed when the 1st of January 2000 came, though. He did not have the superpowers. Something in the universe was not properly aligned..Or that was what I had to buy. I guess that, after realising the Universe sucks, I was still expecting some kind of check...But, of course, that didn't happen either.
So, after all, I am still waiting for Disneyland...Birdy...keep on praying. I am gonna get you eventually, and when I do, I'll deep fry you like if you where Nando's material!! And after, I'll spread hot Peri Peri over your dead body and me and Silvester will have a nice dinner.

But yeah...this love...This love...I am not talking about Maroon's 5 song!! She's gone man. Take it. Maybe that plane took her far away....abroad...most probably Benidorm, the paradise for Fish'n Chips eaters under the sun, where she might have found a nice and good looking Spaniard. Not Antonio Banderas alike, but far from the Full Monty's type. So forget about her and do another record. Get over it. By now she must be feeding little bastards. Plus, u don't need a woman by your side who cannot pronounce Guadalajara correctly while eating a huge mazapan. Or maybe she tried and passed. Who knows...

Yeah...this love. It's literally driving me mad because my horoscope does not talk about it, but it does exist. So...What the fuck? I don't know what to do if Aramis does not focus to see you in her crystal ball to give me some kind of practical counsel.
You might have forgotten the international code to dial my number...And I won't dial yours because this bloody credit crunch is not allowing me to. Imagine how bad it is baby!!!: I had to go from pizza to baby spinach salad. Hold on...I think this crisis has improved my eating habits. However, I still have no news form you, and I have to feed my anxiety with fatty Cadbury's, so next time u see me I'll look like Wally.
I'll have to ask Angela Merkel for a personal bail out. Forget about Ireland, Angy. They are all about their Sein Feinn (By ourselves). They are tough and will get over it. The tiger Celtic economy won't need your help.
In Portugal...they are absolutely fine!! Theirs is a faked crisis...Did you bit it? oh...German naivite! They still might have some of the gold they "peacefully borrowed" from Brazil in a Switzerland's account, so don't even think about it. Plus, they always can sell Cristiano, if someone wants to pay for him. The same goes for Spain.... We do not need any one's help to come out of this shit. Come on!! We are the party nation!! We'll organize something fun and charge the rest of Europe a ticket to come in...We'll be bailing out USA in no time!!
Greece...OPA!! Well, with them you have to be careful. They might complain to Zeus and we all know how he is, so I guess you can borrow them some cash. Just in case. With these Greek Gods u never know. What a sense of humour they have...ufff....
But after giving them some Euros I hope you don't forget about me!
I need to get a father for my children and constribute to stopping Europe's aging.And my grandma is asking. She's been doing it for 6 years now..And if you don't want to deal with her personally, you should be a bit generous. Reaaally Angy, she's that bad. Remember Franco? He was a sweetheart in comparison.
Come on! this won't be difficult for you; if you slighlty tax your citizens a 0.01% more I'll have more than enough.
What will you get form the transaction? Well...If I have a girl, I'll call her after you. What a priviledge, uhm? You lucky to have the name of my favourite Stone's song..otherwise...I'd still put my child a name with an "a" on it to honour you...It's something, inn't?!

Baby...hold on.. I'm calling soon!!

Ni mas ni menos

Que me dices de este sueno made in Russell Sq del que me siento despertar? Que me dices de todos esas palabras con las que poniamos en el paredon a todos aquellos que nunca creyeron en nosotros?
No dices nada, y ese silencio inconstructivo no es consciente de cuanto pierdes. Pierdes un mundo que jamas descubriras. Me pierdes a mi para ganar otras orillas a donde la marea te empujara.
Yo sigo aqui, inamovible, fiel a todo lo que quiereo, porque no conozco otra forma de querer. Y el olvido ya no me atormenta.
Me atormentan otras cosas. El no saber como desarrollar las preguntas de mi ultimo examenen, la respuesta de la universidad a cuyo pais quiero mudarme para emprender otra aventura vital e intelectual. Me atormenta la vida que se presenta llena de espectativas por cumplir. Me atromenta la rutina en la que no quiero caer renunciando a todas las cosas que quise aprender; que aun quiero aprender.
Pero sabia que este dia debia de llegar, tarde o temprano. Y una vez mas toca escoger. Y escoger significa renunciar. Y se renuncio y me equivoco, cuanto me llevara rectificar mis errores? Pero si nunca nos equivocamos,,,Como sabemos que estamos en el camino ocrrrecto?
Tantas giros inesperados me han llevado a lugare magicos que no hubiese imaginado; que ni mis sunos mas psicodelicos se hubiesen atrevido a proyectarar.
Y tantas personas y formas de pensar me han saturado, pero nunca cansado. Quizas ha sido bueno encontrarme a tantos "perdidos" en el camino porque me han ensenado que yo no le estoy. Que para lo bueno y lo malo, se lo que quiero.
Me he radicalizado en mi forma de tolerar. Supongo que es algo paradojico eso de redicalizarte en ser tolerante. Pero ya hay cosas que no tengo paciencia para rebatir. Hay palabras que no lo merecen; gestos demasiado vulgares e inconsistentes como para gastar ne ellos cualquier tipo de argumento.
Es mejor que la marea se lleve por otro camino todas las cosas que no queremos retener o no podemos cambiar.
Que mas da si no vuelven? Dejemoslos viajar por el cosmos, que todos encontramos nuestro lugar, o a algien que nos pone en el.
Ahora solo deseo cambiar...transformar en la medida de mis posibilidades aquello que pueda transformar.
Me decia este Irlandes que he conocido hace unos dias que la vida es un proceso.
Puede que los Celtas semaos un mito cultural, que nunca hayamos existido, como afriman algunos historiadores. Sin embargo, hay un lazo que nos une, una enregia innegable que sentimos en el hilo narrativo que da vida a nuestra forma de contar anecdotas ...hay un modo de entendernos instantaneamente, un deambular por nuestro mundo sin fronteras, como si fuesemos Ulises en nuestras Odiseas particulares; hacemos que la nada cotidiana sea la protagonista absoluta de unas vidas de las que solo nosotros somos amos y senores. Y respetamos la libertad por encima de todo, pues es ella el unico dios al que rendimos pleitesia.
Nos reconocemos en las miradas llenas de anecdotas. En el "sin miedo a nada" de unos pies que han recorrido muchos kilometros por mundos exoticos y famliares. Por lugares que algunos no sabiamos que estaban en el mapa. Y a ellos no sacercamos curiosos, con la ingenuidad que solo los autenticos aventurreros poseen.

No quiero ser nadie mas. Ni menos.

We could be heroes.

After all the shared joy, the jumping and shouting, I must admit that there is not victory for us mortals.
The Gods took the chosen ones to the Olympo, leaving the rest of us in the shore from where we see them celebrating, getting high on success. All we have left is some larger and few ice cubes to get in the whiskey. No furhter glory. Tomorrow morning there will be the hangover of bills to be paid, claiming our responsibility, our waking up from the dream of the winners.
We have lost in the banal attempt to be them. We have pushed our own hope to be represented for purely selfish reasons by some guys they know nothing about us.
But this battle to reach them is lost. Apollo knows. Zeus laughs and comes down to earth to get laid and try to be sympathetic with the feeling of pathetism he struggles to understand.
For all their inmortality, we posses those things they will never have. We posses the uniqueness of the now that might not be so bright or exciting, but nevertheless, it only belongs to those who dare to reach for the unreachable. That might be some kind of special thing to hold on to.
So tonight we have something else. We have an unexplainable growing happiness that accelerates the vertigo characteristic of the previous stage to the fall. We have this "don't care" feeling that makes us live the here like if tomorrow would be an Utopian reality. So we give all we got before the sun rises, for the light will return us to the world of things....and tonight is all about the world of ideas and possibilities.

Spain....Lucha!!!

Van diciendo por ahi que hay que pedirle muchas csas a esta vida, basicamente porque es la unica que tenemos (abstenganse de leer, o considerense no aludidos, los budhistas y creyentes en la reecarnacion).
Completamente de acuerdo con el dicho. Desde luego que muchos conocidos y miles de anonimos se lo toman al pie de la letra. Van pidiendo, exigiendo, escalando psiciones en la piramide que los faraones, o sea, los que cortan el bacalao, usan para comunicarse con los dioses y, de paso, esclavizar a los pringados de turno que se someten ciegamente a su imperio.
Algunos piden por razones puramente egoistas, y otros, que aun quedan muchos, por motivos altruistas.
Entre estos ultimos existe el cancer del cinismo, que se apropia del estado de animo de los que ven el mundo de otro modo e intentan que los demas nos dejemos influir de su positivismo. Porque, si se muevn por motivos altruistas, digo yo que en su agenda no esta eso del gneocidio, la homofobia, xenofobia y demas fobias que muchos se toman por hobies y se dedican a practicar, hundiendo al mundo en la oscuridad de la que la Ilustracion no nos logro sacar.
Ese cinismo me desarma, me resulta demoledor. Me cansa sobremanera, me indigna mas que la mala adminstracion de los que ejercen el derecho a voto para llenar su bolsillo vaciando el del bien comun, alimentnado el actual sentido comun que poco tiene de sentido.
Pero como hemos construido un estado de bienestar fundado en un ideal de fraternidad para dejar que nos lo arrebaten una panda de neoliberales trasnochados, vampiros economicos, capaces de vender a su abuela por un pugnado de bonos bancarios!?
Como y sobre que fundamento hemos llegado a pensar que una tarjeta de credito va a cuidar de nosotros mejor que la comunidad? Por que cerramos la puertas al multiculturalismo con el que convivimos para encerrarnos en nosotros mismos? Desde cuando somos tan poco atrevidos? Desde cuando tan interesante y narcisistas? No hemos aprendido nada.
Fue mas facil conqusitar y aniquilar a civilizaciones enteras a golpe de machetazo limpio. Entendernos por vias diplomaticas nos da dolor de cabeza; es mas facil encontrar excusas que buscar soluciones. La valentia de la que presumimos nos queda grande. Algunos solo deberian de tener derecho a jactarse de su propia avaricia. Y al menos tener el valor de llamar a las cosas por su nombre.
Algunos deberian de tener la decencia de, ya que ellos no aportan nada a la causa, dejar que aquellos que quieren un mundo mas justo para la mayoria, desempegnen su labor sin tropezarse con obstaculos de un aire putrido en el que solo deberian ahogarse los que impiden que llegue la brisa que impusle este barco hacia orillas mas prosperas.
Creo que es imperativo que nos atrevamos a sognar mas. Necesitamos mas imaginacion. Puede que mis estudios en carreras de letras no se valoren en un mundo donde todo tu valor se reduce y se mide de acuerdo a cuanto produces en temrinos materiales: Si puedes curar, amasar capital propio y ajeno, construir, investigar en laboratorios la magica formula para acrecentar las vacas y los cereales, eres util para la sociedad. Pero si quieres entender los hilos que tejen una comunidad; si quieres educarte en cosntruir un arma que te haga menos vulnerable frente a la manipulacion de los poderosos y te ayude a proteger a los menos fuertes otorgandoles derecho de voz y animandoles a que la usen...entonces eres solo un idealista. Y las ideas no hacen dinero hoy en dia. e cotizan a muy bajo interes.
Las ideas se consderan peligrosas. Desequilibran el status quo, lo mantiene alerta, no dejan que se expanda a sus anchas. Por eso siguen siendo tan necesarias.
Debemos rescatarlas de las manos de los que quieren borrar la esperanza de que nuestros suegnos se hagnan realidad. Porque ese dia, aunque a muchos le pese....ha de llegar.
Spain...LUCHA!