The real world

One of my great dislikes is to see how my writings show me as a negative, cloudy sky person; but I can’t help it, words are my only scape when it comes to on-the-edge feelings. I tend to feel things so dramatically, and here I go again…

It is really strange that no one I know feels the way I do, about loyalty, about cruelty, about a life companion, and about many other things… It seems like only fiction matches my personality. I must admit that I have even researched for a syndrome that might describe me; but none have completely matched.

Despite that I’m not so young, my life has been sheltered in a way, having experienced this cozy and chaotic world that is mainly composed by my family, and no other permanent relationships. Much too comfortable with myself and much too incompatible with everyone around me.

I should have known when my mother heard me cry when I was still in the womb -only if I could remember-. Someone should have suspected something when I was born with one incisor tooth. It must have given me a clue when I would turn soviet red because I was asked to give a reading demonstration in preschool.  I should have known it when I was the only one feeling bad about my classmates teasing a child who wore glasses, and not joining them on their so child-like evil teasing. I should have known when people’s eyes spoke to me and made sense the way their words hardly ever did.

Who’s to know if genes or circumstances made me the way I am?; both things perhaps. I was born strange. I didn’t know, I just felt an itch inside me, somewhere close to my soul. Knowledge has come to me little by little through my life.

More than a couple of decades have passed, and in the core, I’m still the same kid. Do we ever truly change? My worries have changed, my hormones have woken up, my responsibilities have increased, my disappointments have piled up, but I’m still the same.

I’ve gotten more in touch with the real world the present year than I have ever been before. When I was this shy, smart, bright-eyed and inquisitive kid, I used to feel there was something dangerous about letting myself out of my own mind, about trusting others… I was right.

I’ve figured, I insist so much in not letting myself trust, because in fact I trust as easily as my heart bruises.

There is something about the work environment… People turn into back-stabbers when their monthly income is involved.

And there is something else about love and sex too… People turn into… people, when their physical pleasure or the utopia of true love are at stake.

Some things that happen, I still can’t believe. My poor thoughts-right-out-of-my-mind filter hasn’t helped at all. The fact that I look 5 years younger than I am, reflects exactly my insides.

People with kind words and toothy smiles can hide so huge lies. People say words they do not mean. People do low things to feel above you at work. People bid farewell in the most easy and cruel way, not caring if half your heart is with them. People are capable of stealing with little or no charge of conscience.

The real world kind of sucks, but bring it on.


River flow

Another altitude variation trusted on the river bed… And you don’t know, river flow, how it was that you went from cold dense forests to less greenish and vast savannas, making it seem as if life happened between changes of scenery like in a rushed theater play; beautiful it all. You no longer know where you came from, nor do you know where you will go. Meanwhile, minutes and their kamikaze strategy forever come and go.

Do not stop now, river flow; keep the current on the go. You are fed up with disappointment, but never stop. Nature works with cycles: sunset or dawn; die, live or be born; spring, autumn, summer or winter; and beyond. Bear it all hence tears and soft giggly sounds are part of your very nature; learn and grow.

Feel the ground, grass and stone; look at the changing sky. Below and above, while a tear trace is erased from the track of time. There is still so much to see ahead, where the river cause leads the course. Expectant, dream with hope, believe fate guides everything outside the minds and hearts of the forest’s wolves.

Celebrate. It is all abstract. Didn’t you know?

Luna, lunita

Once again, there she was. Luna was sitting high above the sea level, wearing her endless diamond adorned black cape. Intrigued she was by the horizon that keeps moving further and further away from anyone that wants to reach him. In him, in her, she thought… so close together in the birth of night, but yet so far.

She knew her story telling would sound like it belonged in a Dr. Seuss’ book, but this was the only way the story could be told. From her last absence, she gained: a rested bright face, an achieved goal, an empty paper bag of chocolate cookies (that she would of course recycle), a reborn hope, a couple of banded wounds (nothing too serious), a day by day growing apple tree to admire, and a billion new thoughts inside her claiming to go out.

She remembered the times not long ago, it’s all so relative, when she used to orbit Earth, around him and mainly about him; while Earth was all about the Sun, ellipsing around it… Millenniums of relative anguish for Luna went by that way, with Earth not noticing that the light coming trough Luna at night was coming from his loved and always craved Sun.

Earth had constantly changed… His face was Pangea; then Laurasia and Gondwana; then Africa, America, Asia, Europe and Oceania. But Luna’s love remained the same, different but unchanged.

Her absence was not long, only what it took to change from a full face to a crescent shape… but so many things were altered in nature, meaning and understanding. Who knows better, does better.

Earth, do not thou see? Seas, owls, reborn dawns and dreams… All part of thee, sharing their life with me. Do not I see? Bears, rivers, thoughts, dunes, dolphins and trees…

Luna saw in her craters a discovered truth. It was not Earth whom she loved, it was not. She loved everything represented by Earth, everything that was allowed to live and flourish and grow and to be through him. And there was something else she could now see… the gravitational attraction didn’t affect only her; yes, the tides had told her with their rhythmical dance, Earth also loved her… without realizing it in the past, without caring in the present, without certainties in the future.

She finally accepted it with a smile across her face… Earth was just like his horizon. And the intrigue disappeared.




Writer’s notes:

  • My sources say ellipsing is not a word, but I propose it for the english language. Think about it, it’s like circling, but… ellipsing.
  • I love reading Dr. Seuss. I’m definitely one obsolete child.

One of a kind

In an obvious visible way, we are all one of a kind… A lovely variety from dark brown to light pink color in our skins; green, brown, blue, black , and a world of combinations between those colors in our eyes; hands, eyebrows, legs, buttocks and heads, in many different shapes and sizes. There are not two of us human beings that are exactly alike, not even identical twins.

But there’s something else, and that something else is more important defining us as individuals. Our personalities, our thoughts, our likes, our dreams, our cultures, our believes… Sadly, whenever someone is far off from the “normal” or common behavior, those same differences are scary and/or not approved by some people.

I’m not saying everyone should do whatever they like. I’m saying, as long as no one is hurting no one, people should be tolerant to embrace -or at least respect- every uncommon individual without trying to change him or her.

All my life I’ve faced questions directed to me mainly because I’m different, and the tone in which those questions are asked most of the times denotes the affirmation that I should change… Why are you so quiet? Why don’t you eat meat? Why do your shoulders move when you laugh but your laugh is not so loud? Why do you say the original idea of communism isn’t bad? Why don’t you like to dance? Etc.

But leaving my personal struggle aside, there are worse, worse things out there; to name some: racism, islamophobia, homophobia… and even people who don’t like dogs (I couldn’t resist the joke, sorry).

If everyone took the love and the time to really know that “thing” they see as so different and unacceptable, they’d find out that: it wasn’t how they thought it was, it wasn’t bad after all, and/or it was just an apple very much like the apples they have on their backyard.

Differences are something to cherish and respect; they do nothing but show how wonderful this world can be, and how wonderful everything that is part of it can be distinguished and beautiful by itself.

Don’t be normal. Always try to be a better person; but as long as you are happy, don’t change, be yourself.