The eleven, twelve and two thousand


The new year was welcomed with bright lights and loud sounds in the dark. It was windy and chilly outside, as chilly as it can be in a tropical country’s summer night. I couldn’t help to remember the past occasions when a view very similar to that one took place along with a dog scratching his fear away on my legs. Miss him. I’ve never been a fan of fireworks, and dog claws are not the only cause of that… they are just so loud (it annoys me a bit… or more than a bit), and many people end up in hospitals because of them. If seen from far away, they are an ears safe beautiful visual experience.

The old 2011 was a year like any other for me, full of free time, books and intensive work sprints. The year that has left us now was a great teacher of the lessons I keep learning on and on through my life: rely on my own, keep on hoping for the best, walk on. The year has also fed a strong suspicion of mine: my life is not meant to be normal.

Changes life brings from time to time are exciting and a bit scary too, and every new year turns our heads in that direction of thoughts. I’ll slide to the comfort of memories. Memories where I’m throwing grapes to my grandfather’s mouth for him to eat (no, I was not 5 years old, that was yesterday); where everyone at home can be doing their own thing but somehow together; where chairs break under people’s weight and nothing bad happens, just jokes and giggles; where I can wake up at 8 am with no rush to getting ready and go out to education or work duties; where trips in old but new trains happen; where kids learn to ride bicycles; where money is a luxury and not a necessity; where sisters find a new deserved happiness; where people graduate and swear not to place a foot in a university ever again (the library doesn’t count); where green lives; where attempts of cooking happen successfully and unsuccessfully; where some small or big amount of rain falls down each day for months and months; where laughter attacks burst so strongly that people have to run to the toilet; where life happens and everyone I care most about survives it.

In 2011 I found the love of my life. And I lost him numbers of times. I guess it’s good to see that some things will not change immediately with the beginning of this year…

The brand new 2012 received me at an early hour followed by an internet connection use, a sports bra, a cereal and milk breakfast, some salt and some water, and obliged meditation. I have no resolutions, but hopes –slash necessities– as it follows. A good job, a reconciliation between my childish heart and my centenary mind, answers for some of my many questions, strength, lots of laughter, and strawberries all year long.

Happy new year wishes for everyone.


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