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In this blog I will post every other day about little things I found interesting. |
| Everyday I notice little details around me. Mostly, I only dedicate them a thought, nothing more, and that is very unfair considering the satisfaction, repulsion or any other feeling they produce. So, this is the blog dedicated to those little things that spice my life. Enjoy. |
| Weird isn't it. I haven't written anything for a while (check last post date) and all of a sudden a dream in which my best friend dies forces me to rethink what to do in life, what path to choose, because you see I reached a conclusion some time ago that I plan to put into practice asap. It doesn't matter what you choose, just choose. All that drama surrounding life and death made me think deeper than usual, and the process got to a complexity that the only way to untangle such a mental mess was to return to a much simpler example, ergo, I looked at the sunset. You see, every afternoon it blinds me with its orange and fading light and every afternoon I feel the death inherent in that sunset. It happens every day, a metaphor for life, a short period of time that eventually ends. So I choose to live, whatever that means, life is to damn short to be worrying about superfluous things. |
| This day was added to the countless list of average days, nothing peculiar happened, until the moment I was going home from work at about twelve AM. An old coworker came from some other “franchise”, he asked how I was doing, I did the same, and the answers were similar, we were just -fine-. He noticed my brown leather bag hanging from my shoulder. “What do you have there” he conspicuously asked. “Oh this? Just some books, I am studying for the GED” “What for? I mean, come on, just get your CDL license and become a trucker, that's where the money is” “But I don't really want money, just enough to live, I want to study, go to college” “But you are a -spic-, spics are not meant to do that, -they- won't let you get too far, you know how it is for us immigrants” “No, I really don't, and that's why I am doing it. I want to know how far I can fly” without any thought, the answer came automatically. I said good night and went to my car with a smile on my face, because that was true. I don't know how far I can fly, I never tried it, never. And now I am doing it, I am spreading this pair of atrophied wings and this time I am not going to let them rot in a cramped position again, I will never let myself fall again. If for any reason life shoots me down, I know I will rise again, and again, and again, until there are no more chances for my to be free. I looked at the moon, and she seemed to be smiling back. So I promised her, that when I finally get my college degree, I will go to a high place, like the top of a mountain or the roof of a building, to curse everyone and everything that ever tried to hamper my progress, and I will thank them, for without them I would have never made it that high. I forgot how good it feels to be alive. I am happy, this is where I want to be. |
| It is so strange. Most times I take a nap in the afternoon, weird feelings arise. It seems that at twilight, perception takes on a very strange road I dare not go. A feeling of melancholy fills my head, I know most people feel this way, but in my case it feels like there's a load of old hidden memories, secretly stored, and always fleeting my rational mind. For a moment I have the sensation I can recall them, but after I am fully awake they recede to the corner from where they spied. Most of the time I experience that as a word that is not fully “there”. Nothing could illustrate my point of view better than an example: Typical afternoon, I am tired for whatever reason, I lay down , and begin drifting into a “different” state of mind. After a couple minutes, or hours, I wake up and I can almost remember something, it makes me sad because whatever it is, I can't remember what it is, only the sensation associated with it, and then it is is gone. I feel so many of those gone memories, but don't get me wrong, they seem to be from some other life or something, I remember everything since I am a young kid. It sort of feels like I loved someone and now it's gone, forgotten I feel there's more to this than meets the eye, but I can't quite get a hold of it. I guess, my dear reader, you would probably think I'm crazy or perhaps a “medium” of some sort, but for me, it feels as being alone in a cabin in the middle of a snow storm, sadly looking at the snow piling up on the trees, while at the same time being warmed by the wood burning in the fireplace. It is as if I am safely enclosed in my logic, fearing the world outside of it. It's sad. I don't know why I write this, but I am sure I want to share it with you. Perhaps you feel the same. |
| This morning I woke up at about eleven, I went out to get my mail while cooking my feet in the hot asphalt. I looked at the wooden handrail in the basement stairs and I saw a weird insect on top of a regular house fly. This insect was black and long. At first I thought it was a hornet, but somehow it refused to accept that definition. Well, going to the core, The interesting thing about this pair of seemingly innocuous insects is that I couldn't attract their attention no matter what I did. I even touched the wing of the large one, but it didn't move. Now imagine that, in their perception, I must look like an all-powerful giant with the capacity to end their lives in an instant. Even so, they didn't move, whatever they were doing was more important than life itself... What do I consider more important than life itself? These small insects made me think about about that, but no answer came. By the way, they were alive :) I checked a couple hours later and they were gone. |
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