Two steps ahead

Paris is not here

I’m well aware of it

(That you always are…)

And it’s funny that
when I’m learning how to run
You are already
going to
the opposite direction (so fast).

It’s like
you’ve been unreachable from
every single (damn) angle
since forever

I don’t even walk anymore.
There’s no point.

Even if I try
You will always be
two steps ahead of me

You’ve always been like this
(I’m well aware of that)

However, why does it still feel so
unfair?
Can you tell?, omitting the part where
You are not even listening now.

You have always been like this.
Kinda unfair, isn’t it?

C.

A pathless path with you 4/4/2013

Indefiniciones

deriva

Entonces, habría que preguntarse si no estamos siendo increíblemente legalistas y mostrando a un dios absurdo y dictatorial (para lo que crean en uno, claramente). Que si esta situación tal vez se ha abierto para mostrar las falencias y contradicciones diarias de un creyente, de esas que nunca se hablan y se hace vista gorda. Ese oportunismo que tanto nos gusta. El testimonio del que nos llenamos la boca. La incapacidad para ser consecuente durante toda la vida pero ser profundamente tozudos frente a un solo punto, como si eso aboliera todo lo anterior. Creer que ir a la iglesia es la respuesta o que lo define completamente. Esos ritos que terminan siendo fecundamente estériles.

Entonces, hombre, lo único medianamente tangible que nos queda, metafóricamente hablando incluso, es esa relación que por opción propia hemos decido crear o inventar, dependiendo del punto de vista que se mire. Que si existe un dios tiene que haber ese punto de encuentro entre nuestra conciencia y acción sin llegar al lado cómodo del asunto, donde escudemos todo en nuestros buenos pensamientos e intenciones tras la inacción, también común. Esto es lo único que tenemos, lo único que terminará por valer.

No me siento mal ni apóstata por pensar fuera del recipiente. Creo profundamente que es siguiente paso a seguir frente a un problema de esta complejidad, donde se comprometen tus creencias de 21 años. Y por lo mismo no necesito que me pregunten dónde está mi fe o que me digan que Dios quiere que haga esto y esto otro. Déjenme y lo veo yo. Me perturba que el mundo asuma que tengo que actuar de determinada forma y que determinada cosa va a ocurrir si lo hago; esas son como respuestas mecanizadas por repetirlas una y otra vez, desde cuna o por simple inercia. Si creo que hay un dios, este debe tener un mínimo de inteligencia, como para dialogar y encontrar una respuesta sensata entre los dos. Por mucho que nos guste dárnosla de oh gran sabios y creyentes-a-morir, no siempre la respuesta es tan clara ni de a primeras. Puede ser increíblemente gris hasta que nos damos cuenta de que es la correcta y que era de un blanco radiante tras toda la neblina.

Así como la vida está llenísima de contradicciones, no tenemos por qué esperar que todos actúen de una misma manera en todo momento. El hombre está sujeto a cambios. Y el mundo debería darse por enterado.

Es sólo que, espero, no cambiemos de un modo que termine negándonos por definición. Que dejar de ser quien soy nunca ha estado en mis planes.

D. 13/Julio/2012

We are sort of buried here, can you hear us there?

I’m not crawlin for you – #3 1997

.

Such a long time ago,

we closed our eyes

and it’s so

hard

(really hard)

trying to see again.

 

We all wonder if

what they taught us

wasn’t completely

untrue

 

Because even

light

is blinding us

now.

 

We are desperated

We want to see again

We want to feel whatever

the true

they told us

means

or meant.

 

Will you reach my hand

and show me

the right path to take?

 

Because it just seems to get

darker and darker

here.

 

I’m even

triping over

my own feet

and something little

inside here

is

bleeding

painfully.

 

I don’t want chanted

words

I want certainty

I want the freedom

that people over

the streets

keep talking about

(even if they don’t have any idea what freedom is)

 

We don’t want to give up

it’s just that the answers

to the usual questions

are no longer the same.

 

Say,

will you open our eyes

and let us see how we

supposed to

see?

Are you even hearing us

right now?

There?

(someone?)

 

It’s funny  because

you have started to look

so

distant lately

 

Like from

Countless

light years.

 

So far

that I’d laugh

’till I die

if I could.

[I’m blind and waiting for you

-Big Machine, Goo goo dolls]

Crita, 7/7/’12 

Perfect day for nothing

The smoke will become a cloud, dyed in the colors of the sunrise

It stained –  Chatmonchy

Perfect day for nothing

Sometimes, I wonder, if everything I’ve been holding and thinking for the last weeks are just an excuse for doing nothing at the end of the day. To not move forward but to keep stuck here.

If at the end, this’s just a miserable try to justify the everyday’s idleness, coloring it with deep and painful motives that are near to a very serious existencial crisis.

It’s not like I’m waiting for some miracle knocking at my window; or waiting for someone to show me the right path I’d should follow through.

Or maybe yes. Maybe I’m really waiting for a fucking signal fire and so what?

In the meantime I keep doing such a reckless things, thinking about useless things that draw me to nothing, which just makes me a crybaby, as if I didn’t know about how real life works.

How real problems are always there.

It just seems I can’t deal with all of them. That I refuse to move out from my insolated crybaby mind and start doing what suppose I should do. As if the answer to all my questions were going to solve in a blink; as if everytime I cry for nothing would really leans me to something ethereal.

But I keep crying and doing nothing more than think about it and so I can keep crying later.

It’s just as pathetic as it sounds.

This inability to move will devour me one day and I’m afraid it will be to late to reverse it. All this lost time will never come back.

I’ll just be here, blaming the whole world and my non-existent habilities.
And all of you are going to be so far away from me, so far, that even runing at the speed of sound will be not enough.

So come. Please come, whenever you are, whatever you are. I don’t care if you take your time. I don’t care if I keep losing things, if I keep becoming such a pity and regrettable being.

I just don’t want  all these crappy feelings to last like for ever.

I’m still so far from knowing what the hell I am doing here. It’s just a question that always fails to find its answer.

Fuck

Fuck

Fuck

Fuck

Fuck

All this shit.

Crita

22/4/2012

Casual no-meetings

Since a long time ago I’ve become ridiculosly aware about casual meetings (overall: meeting with random half-known people by chance on the street, into the bus, or wherever the place you never thought you’d meet someone).

And through the past 5-6? years I think I’ve experienced a good and memorable casual meetings or not really meetings. Whatever.

One was last year. On april? I think. For some reason I had to go to a nearby city (really near, 20-30 minutes by bus) and I was late. However, as late as I’m, I never get out from house without brushing my teeth. That’s why I went to the bathroom, and quickly, brushed the teeth in matter, and got out as fast as I could. I run, to be precise. And just when I came at the corner of the bus-stop, the needed bus appeared and, of course stopped. It stopped. I got in, paid my ticket and inmediately noticed it was unexpected full excepted for one empty seat. Almost at the same time I noticed it, I realized that on the next seat was a random guy. Okey, not really random. That was the blue-van guy. I sat down thinking about him and causalities.

Maybe I should talk about how the year before that, I met him in a serie of events. It’s not that I had talked with him before. Actually, never. But those sort of meetings were the kind of cute ones. When you stupidly seek for the other’s eyes; a silly smile. Etc. Naive things. And he drove a blue-van that I saw multiple times, including in front of my house. That’s why the blue-van guy thing.

Anyway, the fact was that among all the buses I could have taken that day, and among all those non/empty seats, I met him and I sat down next to him. I remember I noticed how tall he was and how thin too. Kinda made me feel  fat (IAMOVERREACTING haha). Also, through a mirror on the top of the bus we saw each other. It was kind of stuuupid. Really. No actually looking at eachother’s being side by side but looking us through the mirror… isn’t it a figurative way to say something that you’re actually not saying? We got off at the same place, but didn’t take the same ways. Casuality doesn’t work always the way you want. Eh, that’s why it’s casuality, I suppose.

After that I remember had met him a couple of times, one when I was traveling from my natal city, took a look through my window and pah! he and his blue-van beside my bus. He didn’t see me, though. Felt sad for some stupid reason. And last time I saw him was like two months ago, when I was coming from the gym (haha). We crossed the same street from opposite sides. Of course our gazes met. I thought I should say hello once and for all, but didn’t do a thing, as expected. And kinda regret it. A lot. My problem with this kind of casual meetings is that they turn me incredibly (and stupidly) shy, as it was such a big deal, when it isn’t, probably.

However, the point of telling the main? story was: I don’t really get it. At that time (the first bus time) I thought that nothing can happen just by chance. There has to be a reason for something; a reason that determines why I took that bus; why I wasn’t 10 seconds late and why he was in that bus and in that sit. But maybe… there’s nothing more that casuality. We actually meet a lot of random people on the street. Is there a reason behind that? The most of the time we don’t even remember faces. We just walk and walk and nothing actually happens.  I mean, you could have been any other person, at the same time, at the same place, with the same random people, and the history wouldn’t have changed. At all.

But my casual no-meeting, the fact that it was actually me, and the meaning couldn’t have been the same for another person… Well, think it is something I can tell someone and one day…

Maybe now it hasn’t an important meaning, and maybe it will never have one. But, there’s also a little chance that every casuality you have found along your life is just a piece of some big and random puzzle you’ll complete one day. The key is to recognize what is the real piece and what is not, which is actually as hard as hell, but we should try.

Just try and say hello.

Crita in her monthly update.

Picture I took that day with my now-dead analog camera. Give me a new camera (please), btw!

I suck at making titles

Today I went to a kind of job. A funny one, I’d should say. I just had to inflate balloons. A lot of balloons. But people, that was so much fun (no, I didn’t need to use my lungs if you’re wondering).

At some point of the afternoon, the suddenly thought about the thing called “future” came to my mind. It’s not weird; I actually think a lot about the future, almost every day. And today I thought about what I’ll be doing in seven years: probably not inflating balloons.

But where.

With who.

The people I treassure, will be still there?

Am I going to be still there/here?

I know millions of people have wondered the same thing through thousand years and they probably came to the same old conclusion about the futile effort of thinking about what you’ll never know until the correct time comes. However, I felt sad. Really sad. Because I’d like to stay on my 20 for ever. I don’t want to grow up or get all those adult-life responsabilities. I can’t even see myself as a doctor, atending people everyday, working hours and hours to get money to pay factures to keep living with certain comfort.

But I know, I really know, that everything can changes; that nothing is certain (maybe I’ll never get graduated; maybe I’ll die tomorrow, I’ll lost interest, I’ll be happy, etc). So meanwhile I want to do the things I like or just… do something. Else. Whatever that makes me feel useful and satisfied. And there’re a lot of thing I want to do. I just need time.

More time.

But since time waits for no one, I’ve decided to write the first entry of this blog today. My head hurts. I’m tired. I’d should make this in another day. Tomorrow. The day after tomorrow. Don’t now, but if I don’t start something,  there’re will be a lot of things that won’t be happening.

See, this’s what happens when you inflate balloons. If you think about that, the future is like a balloon too.

Just kidding (I suck at making jokes too).

Crita