Tamed animal

Because life is about knowing...

I sit here, listening, while smelling flowers I have never seen before;
learning how ants become helpers,
   how butterflies become lovers;
   how herbs become healers.

Because life is about your eyes and instincts;
   about laughing of the silence, of the unfirtunate truth;
      of the fact that tomorrow will never happen.

My sweet companion, my sweet friend...
You may not know that you are my teacher while I am your guide, your gurdian, your lead.

Because life is about sharing;
    I share with you this life, this moment of realization...

Lets continue walking, learning life.



to +Laura Baños (and our four legged companion)

Porque puedo...

Puedo decidir estar triste. 

Configurar el todo y estar.

Ese poder me asusta.

Son los segundos en los que nos volvemos pequeños dioses

(y digo pequeños porque me asusta no decirlo).

Porque puedo me dejo llevar y cuando me doy cuenta me arrepiento.

Casi siempre me arrepiento.

Aunque pasé muchos años de mi adolescencia predicando el odio al arrepentimiento,

sigo cayendo en las provocaciones de los egos ajenos

(y del que me habita)

más seguido que de vez en cuando.

Dejarse llevar por aquellos es realmente deplorable

y habla muy mal de nuestra raza (la humana, porque es la única que existe).

Si soy capaz de configurar el ambiente para manipular mis emociones,

¿por qué no soy capaz de detenerme cuando los egos ajenos me provocan?

¿por qué caigo redondita ante su más mínimo aviso?

Me molesta mucho no poder usar al instinto como excusa:

tú, me molestas (mucho).

reading...

Don't let them; just don't let them tell you what to do. It is that simple; promise. Telling them will make you free. Yes, you have to tell it to yourself too. You also have to believe that what you tell is more than true. True true. It is true. Don't let them tell you. You tell them first!

Parking lot

Escribir que en la simpleza de un jueves las palabras me atormentan; la idea del hielo que no se debilita como si fuese un lago y mi sangre, juntó con el, que se alborota. 

Nos desbarata la lluvia. 

Nos confunde la inevitable ida y venida de la primavera. 

Te necesito. 

Ahora. 

Más cerca. 

Tu realización es nuestra destrucción. Destrucción temprana que me grita... 

Soy la flacura del hielo paralizada en el estacionamiento de un invierno que nos recuerda que si existe el infierno. 

Uncertainty

I am not absolutely sure, and I will never be, but still I feel like saying things about the things I know. Somehow the feelings I feel give me a kind of certainty that I should talk, that I should share them and use them to instigate something. I have never received feedback, but I continue doing this. It is like if I am train to do it even if I am not getting the reinforcement. I dunno what I am talking about, but I feel like continue talking.

I want to write about writing a blog post trigger by the deep wish of writing words that connect to something. Amazing writers have already explore that, they have publish books and win prizes. So I am not trying to be one of them, I just blog. No books. No prizes. I am not a new Salvador Elizondo. That's impossible.

The things is that many times I am uncertain about what I think I write about. I write about love and my love doesn't react. I write about politics and activists don't react. I write about writing and I get confused. I ask myself "why do I want someone to react?" and then I think "isn't that the reason why we write? to make someone react?" Well, it all depends. And I will not through here a revolutionary theory... I think the french have done a great job explaining us things in regards to writing, authorship, revolutions and kisses.

So I decide to write an ode to uncertainty.

thank you for coming, staying and guiding my life
you have show me not to walk, not to run, not to crawl
with you I can see the future as the present
  I can teach and learn that nothing is everything
  and that the only law that exists is Nature

uncertainty, my friend, stay forever
and forever I will stay
with open heart to face that things I thought I knew
are not anymore
and that things I did not know are again.

Heal our places

"As people work together to heal their places, they also heal themselves." -Sim Van der Ryn Ecological Design

We are already too many. We are enough when we look at us as a unity. Yes, as the 99%.
We are the daughters and sons of something bigger, of more than just a pair of human beings.
We don't seem to notice that we carry with a responsibility towards our unique place in history, in the world.

To think about life can be too much, that's probably why many people prefer only to believe; it is much easier to be a passive actor and just let things happened. Like The Poor, who see death every day walking around their communities, choosing them. She is busy, the dark lady, and it does not looks like she will get holidays any day soon.

We are dying; the we is dying.
And we fight, we work, we think, we change, we heal... ourselves, our places, our own.
Why we don't heal the we, the togetherness from which we evolved?

We need the we to get her some holidays.
We can only win by joining forces with Life to heal ourselves and heal our places.

#Palabra

Soy el destiempo de una vela;

me acurruco en el desvelo

mientras procuro algún tipo de consuelo. 

Soy una luz honesta; 

juguetona ilusión del frío que habita,

terrible coincidencia entre el aquí y el ahora. 

Soy con lentitud y pereza,

y si lloro desaparezco.