Departure

The girl, after a stay that seemed it would last forever, left the building seven days ago; I just noticed her absence, though. She already knew she wasn´t welcome anymore but she kept coming around anyway. I never knew her reasons and never dared to ask, for I thought it wouldn't do any good. I can assure she tried to draw all my attention to her but I just neglected her for a long while. She finally got tired and then couldn't stand it anymore.

At the beginning she used to come up with nonsensical arguments just to tease me, as if trying to make me see she was still alive and around. I guess I received several odd postcards from her everytime she went abroad. It makes up for six. She used to send me petty souvenirs monthly, on the very third week, just to let me know she would come over and stay a few days. At the beginning I didn't want to get them since I never wanted her as a pen pal. On the first time I believed she had only sent me that by chance, thence I didn't make a big deal of it. But chance never falls twice on the same place and she sent life signals for the second time. Her committment happened to be more scary, for she did it quite punctually. If I never wrote her back, why did she then bothered to look for me?

As months went on her letters came in oddly coloured envelopes. Her speech was somehow cryptic and I never managed to read between the lines. Her innuendos formed shapes I had never seen and I thought I would never make any sense out of them. Everytime I looked at the calendar for the due date I wondered what her next "present" would look like, in which way she would arrive, and how long she would stick around. Why did she come if I never called her? What was it she wanted from me?

Did she ever expect me to requite her or did she only do it just to make me remember she was still out there? Be as it may I never thought of any sort of response because I didn't want anything to do with her. On the last due dates I went out not to receive any message from her, but in the course of the day I discovered the extent of her hold. Every message I thought I had dodged reached me: if I got off the train, if I climbed the next to last floor of a skyscrapper, if I went anywhere I believed I could find shelter, she found me--did she ever stalk me all that long? I don't know but the harder I tried to break away, the tighter her grip became.

But one day, when I managed to read the foreword of her arrival I decided to prevent it. I filled the room in which she had stayed all this long to the ceiling and then locked it out. If she ever sent anything I never got it, for, as soon as she arrived I went out because I didn't want to be there when she found out I would never allow her to stay anymore. Meanwhile I was totally spaced out and managed to forget her for several days until now. On her way out she might have even seen all her letters and gifts I put in a bin next to the sidewalk gutter. I hope she didn't get quite mad.

She should have left since long ago. It would have been a lot easier had she managed to read my signs. This time I expect not to hear about her again.

Come Back

People from the past have recently come back to my life, as if they had been washed up by some kind of odd whirlpool life has proven to be in these last days. This meeting, however, which seemed to be lightyears away from me, and also hoped it was so, had taken place in a couple of my often bizarre, yet occasionally foreboding dreams a few weeks ago. As soon as I woke up I pondered a few seconds on the images I was exposed to and mumbled to myself: "There is no reason this could ever happen". I immediately dropped the subject and moved on.

I firmly used to believe that dreams, as faithful portraits of life in the realm of subcounsciousness, lacked any kind of point or whatsoever reason to exist. Life had neither specific goals nor higher purposes, and I had somehow managed to cope with such concept of reality. In those moments human existence was but a maze-like, kafkian cycle which led nowhere; it took me a long while (i.e. months) to reach such conclusion and to find some sort of practical use for it.

But life, or whatever it had done this, proved me wrong. Its intricate ways set me up and, in the most absurd examples of chance's whims, an old schoolmate recognized me. She stopped me and began to ask for the usual suspects: what I was doing by the time, where I lived, what had become of me. I could not think of an useful getaway plan and had to give her my e-address and mobile phone number. In the meantime she told me about the whereabouts of the rest of my back-then schoolmates. Then I went off. In the next hours several of them contacted me. I'm not sure whether this event was good or not, though. In those years, once we parted company with each other I never thought of looking for them. I don't know if I'm ready to see them again, nor even if I really want to. But I'm sure I never missed them, thence I left without saying a word to them.

My ominous dreams have attained a different meaning now. I don't know what to believe anymore, for those dreams I never asked for came true. I dreamt of a quite unlikely encounter and yet this happened; I'm beginning to be afraid of the other dreams, those in which I run into someone I really hope not to meet again. In a manner of speaking I have no place to hide anymore, for the impossible, meeting people I left behind twelve years ago, took place. Any kind of meeting could happen, therefore I must look for evacuation routes just in case.

I can't help but thinking of the fact that everybody breaks into my dreams, except the one I want to see in them. As it happens in real life, I meet everyone in the least likely places, but I never run into the one I wish for.

The Beginning of the End

Comienza el Semestre 2010-1 en la UNAM. Dentro de algunos meses terminaré el curso de idioma que comencé en el CELE hace más de tres años. Debo decidir si presentaré el examen Oberstufe, pues parece que sería una buena idea para mi currículum. Como lo establecí hace unos meses, mi trabajo de titulación deberá estar terminado para fines de año, así sólo tendré que esperar la aprobación de los sinodales y llevar a cabo los trámites administrativos. Mientras tanto me dedicaré a acumular capital para el futuro, pues algunas de las cosas que quiero hacer después necesitarán fondos.

Después de diciembre, creo que ya no tendré nada qué hacer en CU. Mi vida universitaria está cumpliendo su ciclo. Ya no extraño la escuela como antes, pero no tengo ni idea de que voy a hacer después, una vez que sostenga mi título en las manos.

Celebremos con esta super-canción, para recordar que los viejos tiempos, que alguna vez fueron mejores que ahora, jamás volverán.

Placebo - Pure Morning
Cargado por danerto. - Videos de música, entrevistas a los artistas, conciertos y más.

High Time

No puedo negarlo, ya extrañaba escuchar el sonido de mi voz. De hecho, siempre me ha gustado escucharlo, pues no puedo quejarme de su tono. La desventaja es que jamás podré cantar en falsetto pero, por otro lado, casi nadie puede hacerlo. Mi registro es muy bajo pero no tengo problema con eso, pues más vale baritono que gangoso o aflautado.

Espero no volver a quedar afónico, pues es muy molesto no poder comer helado cuando uno quiere.