4, 1, less than 3

sometimes i still think i'm dreaming :D

the extraordinariness of an ordinary day

i've been going back and forth in my head about the meaning of wedding days, given that my own is approaching at fast pace. i have been trying to figure out why they are considered such a big deal, when it's, after all, a celebration that lasts the allotted time of the ceremony, and the time spent eating at the restaurant.

i always believed that what really mattered, in the realm of marriage, was finding out that the person you love has mutual feelings for you and, like you, wants to embark on the path of a shared life. i thought that, more than the wedding per se, what mattered was the marriage, intended as the everyday life that follows the ceremony. shouldn't that be celebrated instead?

maybe it's because i don't particularly like the flow of cash that usually goes into such celebration. i can't stop thinking how many people could be fed with the money one pays for a wedding dress, for instance. or the flower arrangements, let alone the catering, the cake and, yes, the wedding bands.

granted, i've been part of the planning of a fairly simple ceremony and reception combo, without the pomp and circumstance of some other weddings i have witnessed either in person or in photograph. i know we tried to boil it down to the essential, and i am satisfied with the outcome (at least i am on paper - in practice, i'll find out soon enough). we managed to have nice, colorful clothes, very pretty rings, good food, without breaking the bank.

but

organizing a wedding is not just the undoubtedly fun part of choosing what to wear and look for the shoes to match. it involves the much less fun part of having to tell parents and relatives that you have decided to get married; the even less fun part of finding a place where the ceremony can take place and the restaurant where you can feed your guests; and the least fun part of deciding who to invite and who to, unfortunately but inevitably, leave out (whether for lack of space or low degree of acquaintance, but that's another story altogether).

none of the above has been easy. and i'm not saying just from the logistics point of view. it has been a nightmare from the emotional point of view, a roller coaster worthy of the most cringing vomit-related tales. and i'm speaking for myself here because i can only account for what i felt on my own skin. distance, ostracism, rejection, prejudice, close-mindedness, fear, avoidance, mistrust, disorganization, miscommunication, jealousy, secrecy, absence, silence. all of these uninvited guests have been tossed into the mix, in various degrees according to the day, and each had its chance to shine for longer than the proverbial 15 minutes.

maybe this is the real reason why i'm probably not enjoying this process as (i'm told) i'm supposed to. people tell me it's supposed to be the best time of my life, leading to the most important day of my life. what i feel, in turn is that i'm going though one of the most stressful periods i've ever been through (matched in stress level only by studying for qualifying examinations for the doctoral degree). i dread the daily chance of something going wrong, in perfect murphy's law fashion, leading to a day that, with all due respect, pales in comparison to the day i found out that my feelings were reciprocated. that was, so far, the best day of my life. now i can't wait until the whole 'show' is over, so i can finally start what i believe will be the best time of my life.

less than three

and less than 10~~~

ugh

if the beginning of this year is a sign of how the rest is going to go, put me to sleep now and wake me up next year.

thank you

someday, unexpectedly, you are given a reason to be thankful.

thankful that someone up there protected someone down here, and that you didn't lose the most important person in your life.

if i knew how to pray, i would.

but i think - i hope - that my immense gratitude will do. for now.

joy

it wasn't in my head~~~

rip it like a band-aid

'the truth will set you free'

so why do i feel dead inside right now?

heartbreak warfare

just a clown you can laugh with...

sana sanita, colita de rana...

... si no sana hoy, sanará mañana.

or at least that's what they say. but time, and apparently geography, don't help. nice quotes and all, but in the end, it's always a lost battle.

there's no worse deaf than the one who doesn't want to listen.

or maybe i should just grow a pair and speak up.

you. yes, you. can you hear me?

what can i say

could have had it all.

within arm's reach.

all they all talk about.

just had to ask.

just had to want it.

the problem isn't that you didn't want it.

what's worse is that you didn't even care about it.

fml

i should not attend weddings. virtually, or otherwise. ack.

4

yes, size 4, i miss you too. we'll meet again. hopefully. soon.

the day you read this

airplanes

can we pretend that airplanes

in the night sky

are like shooting stars

i could really use a wish right now

[…]

and when your plans unravel in the sand

what would you wish for, if you had one chance?

[…]

so here i stand

and then again i say

i'm hopin' we can make some wishes outta airplanes

now it's time you and i make a bet

i like you, you like me, that's obvious by now. so how about we spend the next 30 or 40 years together, and in the end, if we liked it, i win. if we didn't, you win.

[original here]

drink it in

how many days are left
? / and what to spend them on? / should i keep working / or sit and marvel at the sky? / 
i think about your skin, your fragile skin / the heaven of life we're living in

 / drink it in, drink it deep / i pray to life your soul to keep / drink it in, drink it in / pink clouds scatter / my heart beats clear / for all the hearts that i hold dear / drink it in, drink it deep / i pray to life your soul to keep / drink it in, drink it in / drink it in, drink it in...

bridge over troubled water

when you're weary / feeling small / when tears are in your eyes / i will dry them all / i'm on your side / when times get rough / and friends just can't be found / like a bridge over troubled water / i will lay me down / when you're down and out / when you're on the street / when evening falls so hard / i will comfort you / i'll take your part / when darkness comes / and pain is all around / like a bridge over troubled water / i will lay me down [...] if you need a friend / i'm sailing right behind / like a bridge over troubled water / i will ease your mind

one and the same

the need for love lies at the very basis of human existence. it results from the profound interdependence we all share with one another.

[hh dalai lama via twitter]

don't you know that when you sleep with someone, your body makes a promise whether you do or not?

[open your eyes]

what do we do...

... when we lose hope?

Look into your own heart, discover what gives you pain, and then refuse, under any circumstance whatsoever, to inflict that pain on anybody else.

[Karen Armstrong]

here? now?

i don't like

the ever-present idea

of being your future past tense

it's at night...

it’s at night, when daylight’s gone, that words are clearer;

it’s at night, the noises lower, that words are louder;

it’s at night, the hurry subsided, that words are slower;

it’s at night, when you lean closer, that words are truer.

and i listen.

whence she came

"When a marriage or an official relationship are over, men and women are desperate, they can allow themselves to be. When something like this is over, their sadness is unrivaled because they have to bottle it up, while they struggle to evoke the comfort of shared survival. It is grief without a funeral, made of tears in a restaurant bathroom, there are no fetishes from a buried past, nobody will bring comfort. She tries to comfort herself, playing with her hair, eating, chatting.

I'm the only one at the table to understand whence she came."

[excerpt; my (rough) translation; original here]

because the heart wants what the heart wants

castle: you ask me, she should have followed her heart; left david and gone with wolf.

beckett: you know, i can see the virtue in staying. i mean, guys like wolf, they come in, they upset the applecart… of course they make you feel alive but eventually you know he’s just going to let you down. so why risk it?

castle: because the heart wants what the heart wants.

[castle 2.22 ~ food to die for]

horse with no name

the ocean is a desert, with its life underground
and a perfect disguise above
under the cities lies, a heart made of ground
but the humans will give no love

you see i've been through the desert on a horse with no name
it felt good to be out of the rain
in the desert you can remember your name
'cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain

and a white tulip to bloom in wintertime

girls who have it all

i want to live in that world

made of yes and sure

without no and maybe

when i say jump

the answer? how high

never why

where i'm the center

not a suburb

where my hand is held

my skin a thousand times kissed

my mouth adored

for adoration's sake

day one

35 to go.

start counting.

projections

the more i read other people's blogs, especially friends', the more i realize that i am fundamentally introverted in my writings, when and if said writings see the light of screen. i am not able to see the big picture those friends see. i am unable to discuss wider topics such as politics, music, literature, philosophy; rather i focus on small topics such as… my thoughts. i limit my inquisitive self to what is going on inside said self. maybe because it seems that there's enough going on in here that i can't possibly begin to examine what is going on out there. i don't watch movies to discuss or analyze them to the smallest detail; i don't read books with the purpose of reviewing every paragraph. my deconstruction works inwards rather than outwards. i am certainly inspired by their style of writing, and read them out of interest - but at the end of the day, i fall back inside the realm of the self - *my* self - and look around to see what i find. and those movies and books are more of a means to be distracted rather than challenged.

[i think all day long, please, for a moment, dear movie/book, entertain me]

am i less of a valuable person if i don't listen to NPR? if i don't post about national health care or fuel-efficient vehicles? if i don't know the capitals of every sub-Saharan nation? will i be labeled as ignorant if i can't recognize different meat cuts? or clothes styles? or make-up shades? am i less interesting if i can't remember movie directors? or can't name more than 5 russian novelists? less of a woman if i don't care about purses and shoes? that does not mean that i float in blissful oblivion. i read. i do my best to keep up with what is going on around me, and on a larger scale, in the world. i keep up with the news, at least until they disgust me and make me feel so small and insignificant, the classic speck of dust on this giant floating rock, that i decide, once again, to retreat to safe shores.

[yes, i can fix my own computer; yes, i know how to change a tire; yes, i know how to shoot a firearm; yes, i played sports; yes, i mount my own furniture; yes, i play musical instruments. so what. i do things i like, just like you]

maybe it's because i believe that, before trying to make sense of how other people behave (or how they direct movies, or write books, or rule countries) and think, i at least have to try and make some sense of how *i* behave and think. if i am unable to make sense of *my* self, which lies here, close by, a thin layer of skin away, how would i ever be able to make sense of selves so far removed from me? selves i can't even being to comprehend, not just as bodies, but as embodiments of human beings each with their story, their background, their traditions, their upbringing, their quirks, their beliefs, their own personal disasters they deal with.

[someone once told me, be nice when you deal with people, you have your issues and problems, but they have their own too, so be respectful]

and it's hard enough to make sense of this self as it is. the ups and downs, the joys and sorrows, stairways to heaven and descents into hell, all in one day, on repeat, like an old dysfunctional juke box. it's hard enough to come up with sentences that make sense in a language in which i dream but in which i do not *feel*, to use the right words at the right time while my brain is running away to the next thought, leaving the fingers behind.

[i need lotion on these aging hands; the rough skin is starting to show signs of time. so do my eyes. so does my soul. is there lotion for the soul?]

the insightful thought of the day is that i project me/myself on people. not in terms of expectations - i hate that word - but in some kind of behavioral pattern. i dislike being by myself, so i make sure my closest friends know they are never alone. i dislike being invisible, so i make sure my closest friends know their absence is noticed. i dislike feeling like nobody cares, so i make sure my closest friends know i think about them, just a text or a call can suffice at times, no need for huge displays - as the saying goes, it's the thought that counts. i dislike not having anybody to talk to when i need it, so i make sure my closest friends know they can count on me to listen, no matter what/when/where we are. it's a total devotion they get, a "no strings attached", "you owe me nothing in return" unconditional friendly love. sadly but not unexpectedly, this dog-like (not my description) devotion has earned me quite the number of "use then toss" tickets. i call them my battle scars. i refuse to give less than this, to a very select few. do i expect them to behave the same with me? no. would i like to be treated the same way? yes. for once, for a splendidly precious once, yes. i dream of being somebody's best friend, and to be told so, as childish, sappy, weak as it may sound.

[30 years and counting, i wait, maybe someday, one day, it will happen]

in the meantime, i end up watching a funny romantic comedy.

at 4 am.

alone.

in my room.

in the dark.

[cue gut-wrenching dreams]

no

love this song, been playing it a lot lately...

fail

i fail as a teacher - for not being the one who makes them learn

i fail as a friend - for not being the one they want to talk to, or spend time with, or confide in, for always coming second (or third, or fourth, if any)

i fail as a student - for not completing my requirements, for not wanting to finish my program

i fail as a mentor - for not being able to teach what i have learnt

i fail as a lover - for not being memorable

i fail as a significant other - for not being pretty enough, or important enough, or loving enough, or lovable enough

i fail as a person - for not being good enough to get a job

i fail as an acquaintance - for not being likable enough to become a friend

i fail at so many things, it's not even funny anymore

i feel like such a waste of oxygen

double standards

money, value, availability, worth, age, happiness, love, maturity, distance, importance, time, ability, devotion, tiredness, interest, anger, truth, friendship.

i guess it's all relative.

i guess i ruined it. it was going so well.

me and my stupid mouth.

the joy of driving at night

That idea, then, is night in a nutshell: It's a universal experience that thrives on its abstract essence. Like the automobile, night is a gloriously subjective thing; because it lacks definition and clarity, it's free to be all things to all people. And there's no better way to see it than from a car.

What does it mean to us? Simple: To drive is to remind ourselves that we are alive, and to drive at night is to remind ourselves, in every sense of the phrase, that we are not asleep. So go. Roll the windows down, throw the sunglasses into the glovebox, and venture forth into blackness. It may be dark, but if you can't see the world around you, you're not looking hard enough.

[sam smith - original here]

ugh

sitting by the heater, trying to warm up.

i have protection for the cold outside, but there seems to be no solution for the ice inside.

it's like being told you only have 6 months to live. at least that is how it feels to me, right now.

what now?

when those i trust are away, offline, unreachable, or busy with something better. what now? who do i go to? only a handful of weeks left, and i sit here, alone.

what now?

let me rest among the rainbows

when i die, please spread my ashes at angel falls.

[screenshot taken from DC "planet earth" documentary]

[more about angel falls here]

hopeful new year

just like it started, it's about to end.

in solitude.

and i'm here, in my room, alone with a nice bottle of champagne. alone with chocolate pudding, made for no reason. alone with your favorite chocolates.

once again, i lost.

if not to someone else you'd rather be with, to something else you'd rather do.

lost the job opportunity i thought i had.

not good enough, for anybody, or anything, i guess.

i want to lose the ability to care.

things could have been different, with company, conversation, laughter.

support.

would have been different, if i hadn't chosen to protect you.

priorities.

could have been different, if.

wishful thinking.

but alas.

one more sip.

one more smoke.
they help to cope with the loneliness.

this is the end, beautiful friend.

this is the end, my only friend.

the end.

3...

2...

1...

gone.

disappointments are inevitable;

misery is optional.

Prayer

do not stand at my grave and weep;

i am not there, i do not sleep.

i am a thousand winds that blow.

i am the diamond glints on snow.

i am the sunlight on ripened grain.

i am the gentle autumn rain.

when you awaken in the morning's hush

i am the swift uplifting rush

of quiet birds in circled flight.

i am the soft starts that shine at night.

do not stand at my grave and cry;

i am not there, i did not die.

[12/9/96-12/9/09]

there is a light that never goes out

take me out tonight
where there's music and there's people
and they're young and alive
driving in your car
i never never want to go home
because i haven't got one
anymore

time to go

to sleep

to never wake

see you on the other side

i'll wait for you

in that fleeting moment

between slumber and awakening

where nothing hurts anymore

tried to convince myself that i didn't need it, but i guess i do; apparently it's all i have left.

how am i supposed to compete with that?

the million dollar hotel

the heart is a sleeping beauty, and love the only kiss it can't resist. even if its eyes lay open wide, there is a heart that sleeps inside. and it's to there you must be hastening. for all hearts dream, they dream only of awakening.

[tom tom - tmdh]

sanctuary

lying here in my sanctuary

days go past and it's autumn already

and i wish it would thunder

oh high up here in my sanctuary

days go past and it's autumn already

and i sit here and wonder

one can only hope

It has gradually been driven home to me that I cannot be of help to [a] troubled person by means of any intellectual or training procedure. No approach which relies upon knowledge, upon training, upon the acceptance of something that is taught, is of any use. These approaches seem so tempting and direct that I have, in the past, tried a great many of them. It is possible to explain a person to himself, to prescribe steps which should lead him forward, to train him in knowledge about a more satisfying mode of life. But such methods are, in my experience, futile and inconsequential. The most that they can accomplish is some temporary change, which soon disappears, leaving the individual more than ever convinced of his inadequacy.

The failure of any such approach through the intellect has forced me to recognize that change appears to come about through experience in a relationship … If I can provide a certain type of relationship, the other person will discover within himself the capacity to use that relationship for growth, and change and personal development will occur.

[Carl Rogers]

the way things are

in a real dark night of the soul it is always three o'clock in the morning, day after day

[f. scott fitzgerald]

there were days - it seems so long ago now - when waking up in the morning brought along a good feeling of willingness to go to work, spending time in class, interacting with young minds, seeing friends, spending time outside. now, waking up (and going to bed) is ridden with anguish. what-ifs float around, loud as thunder in the silence of the night, sharing their noise with car alarms, vehicles speeding on the freeway, the 2 am train, sprinklers. the hours spent in bed before sleep takes over are filled with imaginary situations, none of them positive, studying possible outcomes, possible ways out, looking for doors and safe exits.
the short walk to work has new company now. palms that get sweatier the closer i get to campus, shakier with each step. each shadow an enemy; the eyes that used to wander from plants to sidewalk now scan the surroundings from every angle, in the vane hope of foreseeing the unforeseeable. it's an unwelcome paralysis in what used to be a pleasant routine. the perception of danger is behind every blind corner, brought on by the slimmest shadows, the tiniest noise, doors closing, doors opening, voices. a safe world now infected. it's surprising what a mere presence can do to a scarred soul.
every step is now dragged, slower, calculated, the body wrapped in heavy movements, as if saving the energy for a quick defense move, a fast run, a loud scream. the only sanctuary of safety is a small room - a golden cage is still, sadly, a cage - where the ear never fails to listen, assisting a body constantly scanning the floor's slightest vibrations brought about by steps on the stairs outside. the closer they get, the faster the heartbeats. shivers leave when they fade. i sit in the dark, thinking, breathing, rationalizing; mind wandering to dark places, phone always at arm's length. eyes water unexpectedly, panic finding its way out in liquid form from every pore. i speak less. i breathe less. i eat less. i sleep less. i dream less. i laugh less. i live less. i just hide.
a debilitating sense of loneliness comes about, born from the desire to have someone here, some company, some comfort, what if what if what if. the terror of being caught alone, unprepared, would anybody hear? would anybody notice? the desire to speak, to voice all this, mangled by the dread of being perceived as pathetically exaggerating the issue. a hand stretched out meets only emptiness.


and as i smoke yet another one, looking up at the moon hiding behind eucalyptus leaves, breathing in the cold air of the late, late night, i silently, tearfully wonder what tomorrow will bring.

many years ago i had my palm read by a fortune teller. tonight, i sleeplessly lie in bed wishing she was right.

the downside of always being there to pick up the pieces is that you're easily forgotten when the job is done...

tired, sleepy, angry, frustrated, thirsty, alone, baffled, hungry, replaced, ignored, lonely, silent, used, rejected, judged, misplaced, underestimated. sadly mistaken.

und so weiter...

one step closer

i'm around the corner from anything that's real
i'm across the road from hope
i'm under a bridge in a rip tide
that's taken everything i call my own
[...]
i'm on an island at a busy intersection
i can't go forward, i can't turn back
can't see the future, it's getting away from me
i just watch the tail lights glowing

this is why i dislike to be away. silence. disconnection. it hurts. it brings up a general malaise, and i don't know what to do. locked behind a thick rubber wall. can you hear me scream? even my joints hurt under this weight. a storm brews inside. can you see the rain through my eyes?
away. removed. alone.
save me.

in so many words, ugly

"you have a boyfriend in america?"

"no gramma, i don't."

"oh, well, don't worry if nobody wants you. you don't need one anyway. it's not that you're not pretty... i guess. but don't worry, you don't need to be pretty, you have other qualities."

a miracle

Booth: Here we are, all of us. Basically alone, separate creatures, just circling each other. All searching for the slightest hint of a real connection. Some look in the wrong places; some, they just give up hope because in their mind they're thinking "Oh, there's nobody out there for me." But all of us, we keep trying over and over again. Why? Because every once in a while... every once in a while, two people meet and there's that spark. And yes, Bones, he's handsome, and she's beautiful, and maybe that's all they see at first. But making love... making love... that's when two people become one.

Bones: It is scientifically impossible for two objects to occupy the same space.

Booth: Yeah, but what's important is: we try. And when we do it right, we get close.

Bones: To what? Breaking the laws of physics?

Booth: Yeah, Bones - a miracle.

[303]

is my fate in the lines of my hands?

(original italian and french)

pointless

Before I write these annual review letters, I really need your prospectus. It does not need to be elaborate. Just 10-15 pp. plus a reasonable bibliography.

how do i tell you that i could not care less? how do i tell you that this life makes no sense to me anymore? how do i tell you that i completely lost interest in this? that, for me, it's all empty words, written without a purpose for an invisible audience? something that will not help anybody? or make anybody's life better? that my batteries ran out years ago? that i got to this point just because i didn't want to leave? that i like the kind of academic life that you so much despise? that research is pointless for me (at least in this field)? that i stay for the teaching? that it hurt to be set aside to favor someone else? that i despise all the competitiveness of this world? that i wish you found a place for me so i can stay, and not have to leave everything i hold dear? that i loved working hard but lost the pleasure for it when i was told 'we'll miss you'? what for then? so that you could pick her instead. good to know. but after all, i should be used to that feeling by now. always second choice.

beaten up

i just want this day to be over.

quick.

please.

what have i done to deserve this?

what am i lacking?

why am i not enough?

why always second best?

swirls of blue at sunrise

dazed and confused, numb, still awake at 5 am for who knows how much longer... read stuff i shouldn't have... just made it all worse than it already is... is there a bottom to this, at some point? it's silent outside, just the faint noise of cars on the freeway - where are you all going at this time of night? - and crickets, or whatever other critter makes that noise. it's a night, summery noise. summer. i like heat, but i have come to dislike summers. it was the time of year i loved the most, the time when i would go to the beach, see friends i hadn't seen in a whole year, enjoy freedom, swim, be in the water. now summer is time for silence, for distance, loneliness. now i hate summer. too much pain came from summer. and i have to go through it just to wait for the fall, just to come face to face with yet another nightmare. my world, infected, again. will i make it? will i be able to take it? will i get used to the feeling of blood freezing in my veins every time, cold sweat, muscles blocked? run away. i need to learn to run, and then start running and not stop. or get a car, and drive away. i wish i could walk to the beach now, sit by the water. i wish i didn't know how to swim. almost left. but where to go? and what for? i don't like the expiration date i have been given. i'm not an object. i feel like one. plastic. recyclable. bends, never breaks. glass core. shattered a long time ago. pick up the pieces, will you? put it together. 'we can make it better, we have the technology.' alanis as god, with a fancy skirt and long hair. like mine. would i look prettier with shorter hair? would i look pretty enough this time? thinner? taller? darker? malleable, like plastic, indeed. say what you want, you'll have it. genetically engineered perfection to fill your void. there once was something i was good at, i forgot what it was. i forgot a lot. poster child for lack of brain capacity due to sleep deprivation - hang on, i'll give you a photo. lack of short-term memory, they call it. and a scar, still there. did you know that? and everything else? the hidden, the unspoken, what i do and don't say. if you knew, what would you say? speechless, probably. more cars on the freeway - where are you going? can i go with? or am i destined to see you come, and go, and leave me behind?

on days like today i feel like such a waste of space and oxygen...

little girl, crying alone on the grass... i feel your pain.

some days

some days you wake up early, not quite rested, and can't go back to sleep. thoughts start flowing into your brain against your will, seeping like a poisonous oil that prevents you from closing your eyes and drift back into safety, into numbness. thoughts that make you realize, clear as day, like a slap on the face, what is going on, what you have been trying to avoid, what you do not want to see. thoughts that answer the call for the sign you have been waiting for. that clarity that has the uncanny, unwelcome ability to ruin days, if not weeks, at a time.

wake up call.

is it time to go?

not like anybody would notice. or care.

finally~

i always knew i was a night owl, that my brain works much better at night, in silence, away from the distraction of daylight life... it had been a long, long time since i last experienced the bliss of a) understanding, let alone b) agreeing with a scholarly piece of writing, and c) finding the inspiration to write scholarly pieces myself.

tonight, i can go to bed happy, having found:

a) an article i like, well-written, concise, to the point, clear;

b) a way to tie together my dissertation proposal;

c) an authoritative voice to help me in my battle against those who believe that translation is easy, unimportant, and unrelated to the field of comparative literature (more people than i thought, sadly...)

d) a nice incipit for the dissertation.

[and as a side note, e) produced a few pages to get the editor off my back for a couple more days]

oh joy... heh, it's a small thing, but i'll indulge in the happy moment :)

bring on the wonder

some of us

some of us laugh

some of us cry

some of us smoke

some of us lie

but it's all just the way

that we cope with our lives