Raptures.

"How are you doing? is you husband ok?"
When I asked my aunt that question, I didn't know that I'd have to struggle with cuh bad consequences.
Right now, I'm sitting at my desk and hearing my mother cry, but I'm used to her outbursts of hatred and madness.
As you probably figured it out already, she is crying because I asked her sister about my uncle, who is such a liar, betrayer, pretentious person. My father and siblings tried to calm her down as I laugh in the inside and write those words, my cold fingers moving frantically in an unknown explosion of displeasure (what a wonderfuld word) and internal sarcasm.
So, she plots that I'm a hypocrite because of faking interest in somebody just to avoid the uncomfortable atmosphere in the subway car when I casually met my aunt and grandma in my way from work. Don't you readers think that this is all extremely surreal? so do I.
Also, it hurts me that her family treated her so bad but I don't think I have to break all my relationships (even if they are politeness ones) with the people who didn't treated me so bad. Don't you see, mum? I have nobody. Just six people to take care of me... don't you see that it hurts that just a single word can make you feel so bad? can't you feel that I'm sad because I made you cry?
Yesterday she was comforting me kindly in my sister-leaving sadness. I fell asleep hugging her from the behind in the bed. Today she is insulting/defending? me in a really odd way.
I made plans of hanging out with the girls but I didn't felt like it since I have a cold and I don't feel very well. Suddenly all I wanna do is leaving home with my sis and moving somewhere else away from all this... crap.
I'd happily grab my clothes and go away for a walk, but... where can I go?

Silly walks.

I was walking in my weekly way to Korean classes, and as my feet followed each other mechanically, I suddenlly saw a building.
This may not sound particular at all, but I was to me. For three years, I had gone through the same place every week. Obviously I had noticed the old, damaged, creepy structure, but it never seemed to change. Blasts of cold wind swept down from the broken windows as I walked by.
Then, this time, I was slightly aware of how this building had changed. Somebody must have bought it, painted it and repaired its walls. Yesterday, a pair of new wooden windows had been placed somehow where there used to be a heap of wood chips.
I felt like I was a trembling structure about to be rebuilt, still walking, thinking these words outloud in my brain. I experienced being used, broken, old, dirty and cold. I got through this and I became what I am now: in process of repairing. I'm being fixed from the inside to the outside of me: from my mind and body to my clothes and make up. That's why all of you keep saying Im not the same, and it may bother you, but this is meant to be the final-improved version of myself, at least for now. That's the support, the foundation where it will be assembled the columns of my future.

I wonder who did buy and rebuild me...?

May's sunlight.

Since we are talking again to each other, somehow, in a sleepless night, I got to remember how we met.

My best friend fell in love with you, and I couldn't understand why. It was a role thing (which I though was pointless), you weren't that attractive and not even... how do I say? not even smart. When I used to read your words, I remember they seemed pretentious and melodramatic. I can't stand possers, and you looked like one of them who couln't even write in Spanish with no misspellings. Not to mention your robotic English...; but you still had some kind of enigmatic halo that inmediatly attracter me into your speaking. 

But I still felt curious. The most misterious question was... why did you love her? She wasn't smart, beautiful or a good roler/writer/thing. But I guess we need no reasons to love somebody at all (look at me).

So my curiosity and fastination increased as I spoke to you. I remember it was the first good thing I had felt in a long, long time. I remember that, from that point, you iluminated my life as it was sort of a dark, dusty room. Slowly, I came back to life: I recovered my interest in books and studies, I started seeing my friends back again, I stopped writing (which, as we already know, is a good signal) and I had no reason to feel down. Since I met you, I've had my own, particular sun, bright and warm as spring. You make me think of May -what a wonderful month!-, when the yarn summer is announced in every living creature.

That's what you've made for me.

I don't want to write about how I gave you a love you didn't wanted; or about how I screwed up our relationship with my stupid feelings. I don't want to mess this entry up with my loneliness without you last summer, when I unilaterally decided not to talk to you because it just hurts too much. I decided it doesn't worth it, because I love you more than I love (or will ever love) myself.

That's what you mean for me, my May's Sunlight.

Stupid systems, stupid objectives.

No todas las personas encajan. Es un hecho.

Se refleja en los chicos que repiten en el colegio, en el instituto, en bachillerato. Se ve en los empleados que salen aliviados de sus lugares de trabajo. También en las caras de infelicidad y cansancio. Lo veo en mi hermano, que se marcha resignado cada mañana y habla de sus proyectos con muecas de exasperación.

Para funcionar dentro del sistema, hay que empezar a estudiar con tres años. Creces, aprendes uno o dos idiomas, tocas algún instrumento o pruebas con los deportes. Tienes que crecer como está estipulado que lo hagas hasta los diecisiete años al menos, momento en que todo el mundo espera que pases horas encerrado estudiando para una prueba que determinará otros cuatro años de estudio, más el máster, y toda una vida de trabajo. Y eso es lo que se supone que debe hacer todo el mundo.

Para funcionar dentro del sistema, hay que destacar en algo... y eso es efímero e inútil. Un dolor de cabeza.

¿Y si no todo el mundo está hecho para eso? personalmente considero que la educación es uno de los pilares fundamentales de la educación, tanto a nivel formativo-profesional como a nivel emocional, cultural, afectivo, personal...; los niños no solo aprenden teoría en los colegios (y si la aprenden, eventualmente se olvida), sino que desarrollan una serie de capacidades, las herramientas de sus cerebros que les permitirán permanecer concentrados o comprender otras materias, desarrollar un espíritu crítico y conocer a las personas que conformarán sus entornos a medida que se convierten en adultos. La educación es fundamental, sí, pero... ¿Es que todo el mundo está preparado para adaptarse al sistema educativo? Estamos hablando de una estructura rígida según la cual si el alumno no comprende unos determinados conceptos de una forma concreta y en un plazo de tiempo relativamente estricto, es un fracaso como estudiante. No todos los niños quieren estudiar de esa manera..., de hecho, si yo volviera atrás en el tiempo (ahora que tengo una cierta libertad), probablemente tampoco me gustaría vivir así. Del colegio a casa (para hacer deberes, para estudiar) y vuelta a empezar el ciclo al día siguiente.

Por eso considero que debería haber otras salidas. No soy tonta, sé que sin estudios no hay trabajo, y sin trabajo no hay dinero, y sin dinero no hay recursos. Lo sé, pero yo a estas personas les diría que no se matasen por cumplir un objetivo que realmente no va con ellos y que busquen algo que les apasione lo suficiente como para realizar esta tarea tan tediosa, pero aún así imprescindible. Algo que de sentido a sus vidas.

No todo el mundo tiene que sentarse en una mesa a tragar libros durante horas, así que no dejéis que os digan lo contrario.

Just a though.

Eres como un estallido de fuegos artificiales en la noche más negra que puedas imaginar.

RdB

"Amo la estupidez. Aunque salga algo cara, ¿qué sería de nosotros sin ella? Quien se va de este mundo sin haber sido estúpido alguna vez, lo cual es bastante improbable (por no decir imposible), ¿podría afirmar haber vivido? La vida es errar, hacer las cosas a veces a ciegas, a veces con cuatro, seis u ocho ojos."

Pablo González Gallardo.

エディ

He querido decirte muchas cosas estos meses.
Podría intentar resumirlas...
Bueno, va.

El cielo brillaba menos sin ti.
Mi mundo parecía más frío.
Me acordaba de ti a cada detalle...
de tus ojos
tu sonrisa
tus palabras
tus bromas.
He muerto mil vidas por no volver a buscarte.
He... he...

Me rindo.
No hay palabras que pinten lo duro que ha sido esto sin ti.
Pero lo que cuenta, lo único que no puedo dejar de decir, es que jamás me olvidé de ti. ¿Responde esto a tu pregunta? jamás dejé de quererte.
Ahí va lo más sincero que he dicho alguna vez.
No pienso volver a renunciar a ti.