¡¡¡Odio mi PC!!!

Diez razones por las que odio mi PC:

1. Sólo tiene dos entradas USB, y sólo una funciona.
2. No tiene entrada para Ethernet. ¡Tengo que usar una entrada USB para conectarme!
3. Su procesador es una mugre.
4. No tiene suficiente memoria.
5. No puedo descargar actualizaciones (el fulano que la arregló usó software de dudosa
procedencia y calidad).
6. Es muy vieja y labora horas extras.
7. La impresora es nefasta.
8. No lee DVD.
9. No tiene quemador de discos. ¡¡¡ARGHHH!!!!
10. Y lo peor de todo, no puedo deshacerme de ella y comprar otra. ¡¡¡La necesito!!!

¡Dios! Ésto es como un matrimonio mal avenido...

P.D. Jamás compren Compaq.

A Place for Me to Dream

Desde hace mucho tiempo había deseado esto. Creí que jamás volvería a suceder, pero parece que Dios (o el Destino, o lo que sea que me arrastre por la vida como el más inútil y patético muñeco de trapo) ha decidido ser un poco compasivo conmigo, darme un ligero respiro después de una prolongada sensación producida por la casi aplastante soledad crónica. La razón: descubrí que no perdí la capacidad de soñar con algo bello. Ésta había quedado, aparentemente, guardada en un contenedor impenetrable y arrojada en el más profundo abismo sin fondo que es mi subconsciente. Es maravilloso descubrir cómo algo que se creía perdido desde hace tres años ha vuelto a aparecer. Si bien no duró más que unos cuantos minutos, fueron los mejores que he tenido en siete meses (si les sorprende la cronología exacta, seguro sabrán que, durante los peores momentos, los días y los meses son una materia pesada y cuantificable).

No obstante, no soñé con algo que yo hubiera querido, o con quien me gustaría mucho que volviera a mi vida --algunos ya saben quién es ella, así que no necesito decir más--, sino que (en mi dulce sueño) apareció una chica a quien jamás he visto en toda mi vida. Es la primera vez que me pasa y, por lo tanto, este suceso quedará registrado por mucho tiempo. Los sueños, generalmente, son divas herméticas que jamás permitirán que le echemos un vistazo a su naturaleza más íntima y misteriosa. De ahí que no logre entender por qué he soñado con una chica rubia que me gustó mucho, dado que las rubias no son mis favoritas. Otro dato curioso es que durante el viaje onírico (qué no pareció ni tan desordenado ni incoherente como una película de Luis Buñuel) es que me topé con ella en algo relacionado con la super banda Joy Division (!?). Lo más memorable fue que, al mirarnos mutuamente, tuvimos la genial sensación (que espero sentir dentro de poco, sólo falta encontrar con quién) de que nuestra búsqueda había terminado finalmente. Debe ser genial encontrar a alguien que te confiese que eres lo que más había deseado desde hace mucho tiempo y que esperaba tu llegada a su vida con mucha emoción. Ella me abrazó de inmediato --y no pensé que tuviera tanta fuerza, para ser una chica de apariencia mas bien frágil. Yo no pude evitar corresponderle de igual forma, pues me fue imposible no enamorarme de ella.

Finalmente tuve que despertar, pero no lo hice con ese usual y terrible sentimiento de querer dormir por siempre. Ni siquiera tuve ganas de maldecir mi destino. Por fin pude encontrar a alguien, por lo menos en mis sueños, y eso es lo que importa. En cierta forma, yo gané esta vez.

A Foreboding of Afterlife...

The days are gone
When the kingdoms of earth flourished in glory;
Now there are no rulers, no emperors,
No givers of gold, as once there were,
When wonderful things were worked among them
And they lived in lordly magnificence.
Those powers have vanished, those pleasures are dead.
The weakest survives and the world continues,
Kept spinning by toil. All glory is tarnished.
The world's honour ages and shrinks,
Bent like the men who mold it. Their faces
Blanch as time advances, their beards
Wither and they mourn the memory of friends.
The sons of princes, sown in the dust.
The soul stripped of its flesh knows nothing
Of sweetness or sour, feels no pain,
Bends neither its hand nor its brain. A brother
Opens his palms and pours down gold
On his kinsman's grave, strewing his coffin
With treasures intended for Heaven, but nothing
Golden shakes the wrath of God
For a soul overflowing with sin, and nothing
Hidden on earth rises to Heaven.



We all fear God. He turns the earth,
He set it swinging firmly in space,
Gave life to the world and light to the sky.
Death leaps at the fools who forget their God.
He who lives humbly has angels from Heaven
To carry him courage and strength and belief.
A man must conquer pride, not kill it,
Be firm with his fellows, chaste for himself,
Treat all the world as the world deserves,
With love or with hate but never with harm,
Though an enemy seek to scorch him in hell,
Or set the flames of a funeral pyre
Under his lord. Fate is stronger
And God mightier than any man's mind.
Our thoughts should turn to where our home is,
Consider the ways of coming there,
Then strive for sure permission for us
To rise that eternal joy,
That life born in the love of God
And the hope of Heaven. Praise the Holy
Grace of Him who honoured us,
Eternal, unchanging creator of earth.
Amen.

The Seafarer (Mid 10th Century)
From Anglo-Saxon (trans. Burton Raffel)

Ich Gehe Noch Einmal Zurück, Wohin Ich Gestartet Bin

Das letzte Mal, in dem ich dir etwas geschrieben habe, war vor einem Monat. Damals sagte ich dir, dass ich wegginge und alles beenden würde. Damals dachte ich, dass ich niemals zu dir zurückkäme, da du für immer in meinem Geist leben würdest. Trotzdem konnte ich dich nicht vergessen --etwas schlimmer würde geschehen, wenn ich mit der Erinnerung an dich aufhörte, glaube ich. Obwohl meine Zeit sehr schnell verging, gab es nichts los. Immer, wenn der Tag beginnt, sehne ich mich nach dem Abendrot des Sonnenuntergangs. Vielleicht ist das der Grund, warum meine Tage sehr schnell weglaufen. Wie kann ich durchmachen, weiss ich nicht. Es ist möglich, dass die Hoffnung, auf dich wiederzufinden, mich weiterhält. Aber alles fängt an wieder, die Sehnsucht kommt auch wieder. Dafür bin ich ganz schuldig, weil ich dich von mir weggehen gelassen habe. Ich sah dich nur einmal, doch das reichte, damit ich immer an dich erinnerte. Wann werde ich wohl dich wiedersehen? Wann wirst du zu mir wiederkommen? Zwar brauche ich dich jetzt sehr, aber es hat den Schein, dass ich mehr länger auf dich warten werde. Wenn du bei mir wärest, erzählte ich dir, wie lange ich mich nach dir gesehnt habe, wie ich mich ganz isoliert und verlassen gefühlt habe, wie viel ich mich gehasst habe, weil ich dich weggehen liess. Ein Teil von mir stürtzt täglich ein, denn ich bin sicher darüber, dass du niemals in mein Leben zurückkommen wirst. Alles wird schon beenden und ich werde bald ganz allein bleiben. An Einsamkeit war ich früher ganz gewöhnt, aber leider kann ich sie heute nicht mehr ertragen. Ich würde gern in deinen Armen schlafen. Ich wäre immer bei dir und niemals enttäuschte ich dich. Immer, wenn du mich bräuchtest, ginge ich zu dir sofort. Ich liebte sehr gern, weil es für mich ganz einfach wäre. Ich würde irgendwas machen, um dich wiederzusehen und bei dir zu bleiben. Niemals liesse ich dich von mir weggehen.

It's Just Nothing. It's Just I

Once again, MacBeth keeps bringing up interesting topics to be thought about. The plenty of parallelisms and contradictions in MacBeth's speech leads, according to experts, to ponder all possibilities of non-existence of matter and subjects. This, therefore, can't help but relate to some human issues --at least I can't-- but under another light. It, somehow, seems to be a treaty on emptiness.

Void, according to most definitions, does not possibly exist, since it can't be grasped by human senses. What's the point, then, of naming something that does not even exist? The void, indeed, does exist. Just because it can't be seen does not mean that it is not: God doesn't physically come when someone prays for something (life unfortunately is not a Monty Python movie!) and many people, yet, believe in him. People perhaps believe in this mute promise of a better afterlife for they have just realized that both destiny and earthly circumstances will not be merciful to them;I find myself among them now and then, so that I can't blame them any longer. Put simply, sometimes we prefer the milder less ominous no-thing to the fateful earthliness of matter.

Resignation, however, is one of the most perfect ways to embrace the void, or maybe the other way around, rather. This calmness becomes achievable when this antimatter lies deeply in one's heart or mind. It paradoxically turns into a coherent substance that can almost be grabbed. Void also becomes a smelly barrier that the others detect from miles away, thence feelings of isolation break in, since ordinary people mostly scorn those wretches who drag behind them void and its side-effects. Yet, some of us gladly cling to it due to the lack of a better choice and find it better than reality, as I have previously stated. As for me, I have been in love with void for fifteen months and I don't seem I will get rid of this infatuation in the short term. Why do I like to stick to it, I don't know, maybe because this void had once female form I dare not to forget. Why am I still in love with her, if I only saw her just once and, yet, stupidly let her go, I know even the less. I just know that I embrace this void plenty of times per day without regrets, even if the daily process becomes more painful as days go by. Nevertheless, it is I who, without intention, caused this heart-shaped vortex that will someday suck everything close to it. Once this happens I will embrace the void, return to it, and maybe I'll finally be by her side, as it should have physically happened since fifteen months ago. I shall not feel myself empty anymore.

My Lucky Number's 23

As I type this I am aware that St George's Day took place three days ago, since it is a national holiday in many countries, such as Catalonia, England, some provinces of Northern Italy, and a plenty of East European countries --when I saw this Saint's image on the coat of arms of Moscow City, I was quite amazed, indeed. Never thought that such holy knight would have had such a widespread fame.

On such a day I decided to kind of celebrate it, though I did not have any idea of how I should've done it, since I've never been so fond of my ancestry's heritage. Just for a change I went to see Anton Corbijn's Control, which I was long since looking forward to see. It's flawless photography and memorable soundtrack, however, did not amount to make it the most amazing picture ever. Though I don't mean it is a bad film, quite the opposite, but it could have been far better, indeed. This movie, nevertheless, is a "must" for everyone who brags of being a Rock connoiseur. Its commercial success in this zone, unfortunately, did not seem to go beyond the "alternative" taste, so that only few cinemas played it for only a few weeks. I'm glad I managed to see it before its deadline.

Yet, it is no wonder that certain coincidences came out during such a day, even if they primarily sound quite shallow: April 23rd is one of England's scant national holidays (Protestants don't worship any kind of saint, though.) Even more interesting strikes the fact that St. George has, not so long since, been removed from Catholic calendar, since there is no evidence whatsoever that may prove St. George's existence on earth. The tradition, yet, still abides. One interesting fact is that legendary frontman Ian Curtis performed his finale aged 23. Corbijn shows both respect and refinement enough by describing it through a series of camera shots and sound effects and, therefore, he must be given his due. Plus the cathartic emotional waterfall that unleashes the wonderful "Atmosphere," Joy Division's best track ever. As the film was over I started to ponder on number 23 due to the special date and Curtis's age, since I will turn 23 on September 23rd. These facts taken all together keep reminding me that I should do something worth remembering before something else happens.

Unfortunately I forgot to buy red roses for the ladies I know...

"The World Is Growing Loud"

Die Welt Wird Immer Laut (DE)

Die Welt wird immer laut
Für uns ist es Zeit,
Zum Grau zu Werden
Ich wünsche mir, sie liessen uns herbleiben

Die Lichter werden ausgeschaltet
Wir wussten, wir sollten eines Tages
Weggehen
Ich wünsche mir, sie nähmen uns an

Der Himmel stürzt ein
Für uns ist es zu spät, unsere Meinungen
Zu wechseln
Ich wünsche mir, sie hielten uns in Sicherheit

Die Zeit vergeht schnell
Wir wussten, wir würden nicht so lang
Bestehen bleiben
Ich hoffe, sie würden den Rhythmus weiterhalten

Die Welt wird immer laut
Für uns ist es Zeit,
Zu verschwinden
Ich wünsche mir, sie liessen uns herbleiben

(Lyrics by Eskil Simonsson and Joakim Montelius, members of Swedish Electronica band Covenant. Translation to German by Jordi "Johannes Fortelius" González)

Finding someone is not easy. It's just a big lie that movies have long since fed us on.