Archivo de la etiqueta: life

A Diego E. Salinas

Estándar

Querido amigo Diego:
Me enteré ayer, viernes santo, de tu partida y aún no me lo creo.
Pusiste tanto empeño en tu vida, por ti y por todos nosotros, los que padecemos fibrosis quística…eres un luchador y estoy segura de que donde estés ahora, sigues luchando y velando por nosotros.
Aprendí mucho de ti. Todos lo hicimos.
Tus palabras son pura sabiduría y enorme ánimo para este camino tan duro que vamos haciendo paso tras paso, soñando con simplemente VIVIR.
Citándote: “yo solo quiero vivir”

Sólo queremos eso. No hay más superficial meta, no ansiamos un físico diez por fuera si no por dentro, no ansiamos una juventud eterna, si no eternizar los tiempos vividos caminando hacía esa vejez, que por desgracia, no todos alcanzamos.
Diego, tú siempre sonríes, sobrellevas el dolor y el sufrimiento a la par que apoyas a tod@s con tus profundas y veras palabras.
Acostumbrados (por desgracia) a las estupideces y nimiedades que abundan en las redes sociales, tú eres la luz y la belleza de la palabra, por eso llamaste mi atención al instante, atrapada por tus innumerables reflexiones, siempre asombrosas y certeras.
Si la enfermedad tuviera una buena delantera, o estuviera fichada por un equipo de fútbol famoso, o fuera una ideología, ya sería conocidísima y tendría cura, y hasta fans.
Disculpa mi cinismo, mi sarcasmo, como sabes Diego, siempre me sale el poner la puntilla al tema, sobretodo cuando más dolida estoy.
Y es que se te han llevado tan pronto…Qué injusto es todo.
No tengo ya más palabras si no un fuerte dolor, una rabia y decepción intensa, impotente ante todo y todos.

Pero sé que estás aquí, y por lo tanto, la lucha debe seguir y aún con más fuerza si cabe: tenemos que coger tu relevo y no abandonar la carrera.

La meta espera, y el triunfo también.

Los que luchamos contra la muerte, sabemos lo que vale la vida.
Y por seguir viviendo, amando, riendo, sintiendo, soñando y logrando,

nos dejaremos piel y huesos.

Y el alma viva de los que allí arriba se han ganado sus alas, como tú Diego,

nos acompañarán hasta el fin.
Y el fin no puede se otro que el logro y la cura de la fibrosis quística.

Tu sueño y mi sueño, los sueños de todos, no se perderán ni se borrarán,
lucharemos los que vamos quedando, para que se cumplan:
Porque los sueños están hechos para ser cumplidos.
Hasta que nos veamos allí donde te hayan llevado, descansa en paz, sonríe como siempre (y aún más) respira tranquilo y libre de todo dolor, sé feliz eternamente.
Te echo ya mucho de menos…
Tu amiga

Yrene Yuhmi
Diego E. Salinas guerrero contra fibrosis quística, filósofo y escritor, DEP (Diciembre del 2016) 

 

Foto tomada por Diego en Acapulco, unos meses antes de fallecer (fuente FB, @DiegoESalinas @MiVidaConFQ)

Anuncios

Y ¿si te mando a paseo?

Estándar

 

¡No, no! ¡Jeje! ¡No a ese tipo de paseo! Si no a un paseo por el jardín de mi madre, esperando que haga menos frío, que deje de tener tanta flema, que me duelan menos los huesos, y que pueda despojarme de los abrigos…Aunque haya personas que adoren el invierno, a los enfermos nos suponen estar más encerrados y tener más problemillas de salud…Aunque reconozco que todas las estaciones son bellas, y que el invierno con su mantita y su chocolate caliente, las lecturas tras la ventana o escuchar llover, tiene un encanto apacible y (si hay dinero) calmante.

Este año ha sido difícil para muchas personas. Sin abastecimiento eléctrico, ya me dirás cómo pasas esos días y noches de horrible frío del que te deja petrificad@…

Así que de verdad deseo que llegue la primavera (y que nos quejemos ya de las alergias! ¡Por quejarse que no quede!)

Las flores, las locas ganas de salir a caminar, tomar el primer el sol, disfrutar la pacífica vista de esos cielos tan color agua marina, como un tul sobre polvo de lapislázuli…

¡Ya veis que lo estoy deseando!

Yrene Yuhmi

 

 


Aquí os dejo un vídeo pequeñito con citas y pensamientos, fotos y mucho cariño, y agradecimiento por tanto apoyo!

 

👉 Paseos de palabras 👈

Yrene Yuhmi 🌸🌸🌸

今年のスペインの冬は大変でした。。。雪いっぱい降って、積もって、凄い風を吹いてしまい、

亡くなった人々がいます。どの国でも同じでしょうね。。。

私は春と夏が好きですから、晴れる日楽しみにしています!

冬があるからこそ、春が来ます。

希望持ちましょう!

動画はスペイン語でごめんね!名人の言葉と自分の考え事をナレーシオンして、お母さんの庭の写真と一緒に作成しました。皆さんに見せたくて、そして愛いっぱいと感謝を送りたい!

スペインから、愛する日本

イレーネ優海より🌸🌸🌸

Otoños pensativos

Estándar
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Dibujado con el dedo

 

Pasan los minutos, las horas, los días…y todo sigue igual.
Cada día pienso, “hoy me he encontraré mejor” “hoy volveré a escribir…dibujaré como antes, ¡a cientos!”
Hoy seré la que era…

¡Qué estúpida!

Cómo cambiar un destino ya escrito…una enfermedad que nadie espera, que viene con los genes y que ocupa tu vida convirtiéndola en un desierto infinito.
Me levanto como si tuviera plomo en vez de sangre.
En el baño, me cepillo los cabellos, muy negros, algunos de los cuales caen en la pica del lavabo. Mientras, en el espejo me devuelve la mirada una mujer de edad indefinida, ojerosa, de piel marchita.
Todavía queda un poco del brillo de los sueños que tuvo en su niñez, y La Niña que reía y jugaba con energía, todavía se asoma tímidamente desde el fondo de las pupilas de color noche.

Es fácil lanzar al mundo maravillosas frases de autoayuda…a mí leerlas me pone de los nervios. Puede que esté siendo pesimista, pero es que ya lo hago todo, todos los días: sonreír, aunque llore por dentro; disfrutar de lo que tengo, con todas mis fuerzas, porque es un tesoro que no debo malgastar; aferrarme a lo positivo, para no dejarme vencer; apoyarme en la amistad, disfrutar de la familia, no dejarme vencer por la adversidad…en fin, si tenéis redes sociales, tendréis muchas frases, vídeos, imágenes…que os recuerden todo este batiburrillo de sabiduría popular y literaria que parece ser descubierto por primera vez gracias a Facebook y los memes.

Las ganas de vomitar no me dejan seguir mucho más…quiero dibujar, quiero escribir, quiero viajar…quiero obviar lo que no puede obviarse, lo que es parte de mi: está enfermedad de la que no tengo derecho a quejarme.

Mi brazo derecho no responde.

Será el esguince del cuello, el que me hice cuando iba a la universidad.
O la caída de cabello en el 2000…No lo saben los médicos, ¿lo voy a saber yo?
Ser positivo no es tan difícil: basta con sonreír y buscar cosas chiquitas que te gusten mucho, que te hagan sentirte viva.
Lo que vaya por dentro, enfermedad del alma o del cuerpo, eso se puede ocultar…menos a quien te cuida, claro…
Si no fuera por mi madre, ¿que sería de mí?
Me lo pregunto siempre, porque es mi mayor miedo el no tenerla a mi lado…no porque me cuide, si no porque ella es mi todo, la razón de mi existencia. Quien borra mi soledad.
No puedo más…
Mañana será otro día, si Dios quiere…

 
Y pasa otro día, y leyendo lo que escribí ayer, hasta me sonrío.
Hoy he tenido día pancreático: lo llamo así cuando tengo tantas nauseas que comer es un suplicio, y tengo que ir tanto al baño que tendría que instalarme completamente allí.

No vomito nunca, así que las nauseas son como un nudo de comida en la garganta y un mareo general muy difícil de explicar. Si supiera qué es una resaca, la compararía, pero solo me imagino que pueden ser síntomas parecidos por lo que he visto en las películas y las series de televisión.

Siempre lo pienso: no comprendo por qué la gente sana quiere ponerse enferma, cuando yo y tantos como yo, estando enfermos soñamos con vivir sanos.

¡Este mundo es una constante contradicción!
Las contradicciones son la base de la mente humana. Y quizás la parte que nos hace crear, que nos hace artistas, teniendo en cuenta que nuestras mentes también son pura contradicción.

No hay blancos y negros, ni siquiera colores. Hay mil tonalidades, luces, sabores, olores, texturas…y muchas veces se superponen.
Qué contrariedad de mundo, y de vida, pero que bello es la más de las veces, contrariar.
Yrene Yuhmi 2016 octubre, noches extrañas.

 

RONA, Not a pet, a true FRIEND

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RONA, Not a pet, a true FRIEND

Rona, our black, green eyed cat, is very sick. She had surgery 3 times because of tumors.
But now all turned to the final stage…She has been my Mom companion during almost 10 years. Also my dear little princess, my friend and Japanese lover pal.
She loves when we Mom is doing handmade things, and I am drawing or writing.
She has been with us, during the time I have been working on Armend y Liend novels and other tales.
She is so very intelligent!! ^^ And adorable…

I am pretty sure all people who has or have had an animal as a friend or brother, understand our feelings.

The name of Rona comes from Hebrew and means My joy.

She really has been, and will be our joy forever.

I hope God let us be together a little more time…

Thanks for visiting, reading and commenting.

Much love and HAPPY SUMMER, Happy Winter on the upside down of this Pretty yet cruel Blue World.

Yrene Yuhmi, 2014

Letters to Nowhere chapter 6 (Cartas a Ninguna parte capítulo 6)

Estándar

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Dear Beatrix:
I have an old photo of you, where you are posing in the door of your Home, on Hill Top.
Maybe it’s the vision of your kind and healthy face, that let me use this adjective quite daring: “dear“. Maybe is because of the distance and the Time, and…Of course, you won’t reproach my lack of manners for writing to you in this way, being a total unknown from XXI century who tells you very odd things.
When I told you about the Death, I was scared, yes. In a few days I’ll be hospitalized to make me a liver biopsy.
I don’t know about Medicine history, so maybe you know or not about what’s a biopsy.
I know it’s nothing.
“It will not hurt” Doctors tell me. But I don’t trust them.
“Don’t be afraid” Tells me my Mother.
But She also is afraid, I can see it in her eyes.
I can see it every time she looks at me trying to not show the aversion that causes to see my scrawny body.
I cry every time I go to the bath, to take a shower.
I don’t have chest. My arms and my back, my hips, my ribs, all are just that. Bones.
I don’t have my face bright and flustered, neither the eyes shining.
In my suitcase I prepared some books. I also put yours with all my caring.

To my little sister I always tell that treat the book with love, that is a jewel of collector.
She thinks I exaggerate and the fact I doubt of her maturity hurts her.
I know, I know, that she knows very well how to treat books. She is a very mature girl for her age. I’m really proud of her intelligence.  With only 14 years old has really clear ideas and knows how to talk better than lots of adults and with career.
The little one, of course, has only 4 years old, he is different, he takes everything but to draw on his scribbles. My auntie Ana says he is going to be an artist.
I guess he’s getting familiar with the colors, the drawings and  every thing he sees in my workshop. He sits near me, and imitate all my movements. As Aristotle said, the Humanity learns imitating.But arriving to certain point of the Life, every person must shape their
personality from all that has been around, all the crying, all the imitations and the reflections.
This part of so simple theory, doesn’t always come true. The fashion, the  urban tribes, the evil envy, leads a imitation that transforms the society in one of a kind of cattle ranch. That’s how the proverb says: Monkey see, monkey do. “Where is going Vicente? Where people goes” (Spanish proverb)

Well so, my little brother, most than one time ended all dirt of oil paints, and what a disaster..! So I bought a crayon box and card-boards for him.
His drawings of houses with chimney, cars and dogs, comforted me so much.
It seems that kids see the world in colors.
I think that the best thinkers of all Times, has not seen in the kids the perfect solution to problems and questions of Philosophy.Maybe all it’s lots more simple. We look for the Truth with all the possible biggest difficulties, while the TRUTH, that already has connotations of indecipherable and empty Myth, it’s instead in the simplicity.

The simplicity of whom begin to discover Life and the one who when sees a stone discovers a stone, and not a tangle of  mysterious analytical schemes that converts it in a very long book that leaves us full of doubts.

And the Science, yes, it’s wonderful. The man, not, better the Humanity has learned to divide reality from fiction first, and after linked it again to do really unthinkable things. You can’t imagine what a limited and fragile that’s human being could achieve during this pick of the Earth Time.
You lived that emboldened start of 1900.
I live the unbridled excess of the near 2000.
How far away we are, dear my friend!

I correct: How far away I am from any alive thing…I guess I’m closer to you, nether-less these 100 years, than to any person of my age or my Time.
I can’t believe what’s happening to me. I can’t recognize myself.
And neither can’t do so my dears.I almost can’t remember clearly and in a sequence way that big discussion with Manuela. Time betrayed me, my body betrayed me, I myself betrayed me. In fact, this whole city betrayed me.
That night all we were celebrating Carnival.
I cos-played like a pirate: white blouse with frills, tight trousers, high boots and spyglass.
Manu disguised as a zombie and Pati as a magician.
Helena and her coworkers surprised us with quite pathetic costume of witches.
There was also a group who had the great idea of disguising as sisters with Ni*e sneakers, that’s a name of a brand that marks people like hot
iron to cattle. Then you are the powerful of the riches tribe, pretty and famous. Well, there’s not only N*ke, there are thousands of stupid names, that are not worthy of being named. Maybe I say one of them without noticing. In this Times people are not fighting for knowing,
but for appearing. At schools no one knows who is Cervantes, what’s Iberia Peninsula, or where the hell is that Odyssey. The knowledge does not take place (Spanish proverb, knowing more doesn’t hurt, doesn’t bother)  but my  skirt is cuter then yours and also more expensive. Furthermore why they want to know History – they ask themselves – if I master flirting and consumerism?

Everybody laughed when they saw that dozen of false sisters with expressionless masks, white as their sneakers. It wasn’t funny for me. It’s incoherent and stupid to do a joke about something we don’t know and so, about something we don’t have any right.

That’s also typical from these times. All is laughable.
I can’t tell too much about what happened.
Manuela grabbed the drinks bar and thanks to the heat of the wine began to chatter with euphoria, ridiculously, because of the boys who were coming closer to us.
I felt so embarrassed so with a few but clear words I asked her to  behave.

_ Shut up!! – yelled at me with all her rage and hatred that was hosting within her.
That hurt me. She wasn’t Manuela, she couldn’t be.

_ Why I must shut up, I don’t have to. What you are doing is just immature and ridiculous.
_ Ha! what happens is that you are a washy-washy girl who doesn’t know how to have fun!
And so that really hurt me, because it wasn’t true.
_ I don’t need fuel to get fun.
I had Manuela  fatty and ugly face engraved in my mind, looking at me with an indescribable grudge that always scared me. Even now I remember it and I feel very sad. It’s being hard to me writing about it.
I would prefer to bury it in the Oblivion, but that’s not easy.
At that moment I didn’t know if go home or stay or what…
Even I was swallowing all time, I had a big knot in my throat and even though I wanted to look calm, my hands were trembling.

The party was in the Sports Pavilion. In the corner of the wardrobe I sat down to wait for the Calmness. I couldn’t stop my trembling.
_ Have you lost your broadsword?
I jumped surprised: by my side, leaned to make his voice be clear with all that loud music, was Adrian.

I lost some seconds to understand what was saying because I forgot totally about my dress up. I looked at me and felt so stupid. And even more when I saw that he wasn’t wearing any costume.
I smiled and replied that I was disarmed in a death match.
_They must have hurt you…- he said.
I knew that he knew about what we were talking.
_ Yes, in fact a lot.

We were silent in the middle of the festive sound, during a time that seemed to me an eternity. Finally I felt so uneasy that I turned around to him and invited him to drink something warm. My throat began to hurt. He accepted and after taking our jackets we went out.
Even though it was the second week of February and the air was cold,
I felt lots better out than in.
That night we were just good friends. For the first time in my life I talked without fear with something who wasn’t Fidel or my mother. How it was possible so much confidence? We really got along.
I began to be aware of his attractive points, that little details that seemed I only could see and that made him exceptional and different.
Furthermore he always made me laugh. I was really prone to laugh back then. I was born happy. I felt the LIFE, I smelled it, I touched it and tasted it. I enjoyed…
I was in that age where every one lives their own fairy tale. And the bad thing of something so good is that you believe that is ETERNAL.

Carpe Diem.

 

 

Spanish originals, 1998-2000. I must say I don’t feel the same that back then, it was a time to suffer and be abandoned by people I trusted.

 

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Letters to Nowhere chapter 5 (Cartas a Ninguna Parte capítulo 5)

Estándar

If you were purebred and local or a today renegade mestizo you are approved. But if you are a simple son (proud) of Immigrants, black, chinese, japanese or “similar” you got it thought.
And this is the pure reality.The theory, preached by all, is that all of

them are tolerant, anti racists and anti-xenophobic. You see, “angels”.
Juan Diez, was the first boy in the golden list of good matches.
And Pati was crazy in love with him.
He didn’t even look at her, everybody knew that he felt aversion about Patricia who wasn’t exactly a cover girl. Anyway, he wasn’t nothing special either. I always pitied Patricia, always daydreaming, smiling, laughing, loving… When I met her. But we all change. And in the scales of good and bad inside us, one of the plates outweights the other.
_ The one who looks free is the new…

Helena hit the shot.  Manu almost jumped from the chair to say that she finally get to know his name.
_ Se llama Adrián.

As always she was fill of compliments, not very respectful. To the poor guy’s ears there has to be a good whistle, totally alien to that sickly interest that triggered an unknown girl.

_ Look, your parents.

Patricia was looking through the windows of the coffee shop. I left the money on the table, took my jacket and say good bye quickly, tired of that silly chatting.
_ Are you going to check the lists  on Monday?
_ yes – I replied already in the door.
_ Hey, today is Friday!  – yelled Patricia – Are you going out or not?
_ I’ll call you!

“Who knows?” I thought. I got in the car, happy, commenting the “match” with my parents, and excited with my own conversation I decided to go out that night.

I changed clothes 3 times. I went downstairs to the living room the 3 times and the 3 times I got approval. Why so much interest that night?
I asked myself too: I had those black eyes pierced in my mind, without being able to explain myself what was feeling.
I decided on the blue dress, that I loved, and it was enough for me to look me on the mirror, smile and go out.
I had my face all red.
When a person has the face flushed and the eyes brighting, it’s a sign of happiness, vitality and energy. The eyes talk about everything. It’s amazing.

Back then I had everything. I was going to the College, and new perspectives were opened for me. I felt shiny, I loved being loved and being happy. But, how many times we forget that happiness is not eternal and slides off our hands, slips from them…and You don’t feel it anymore.

 

That night the disco, was as always for me: smoke, french kisses in every corner and tall glasses from I got to listen the sound of the ice cubes hitting each other.
It disappointed me more when the music began to be repetitive, feeling like a hammer inside my head until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I don’t know, I don’t think you will like this music, Beatrix. Its name tells about it perfectly: it’s cold, impersonal, inhuman and with a lyrics who sounds like a babble without argument: machine music.
You see, even here arrived the Industrial revolution. The firsts steps were meritorius and resounding, but now, you know that there is a talk of spaceflights? Of course, only for billionaires.

What good it all this progress if half of the World only has naked bodys, hunger, hopeless and soil under their feet?
Beatrix, what I most regret is that every day lots of children die on The Earth.
A lot, I don’t know how many, but even if it’s only one, they are innocent creatures who won’t be able to LIVE, in capital letter, with all its meaning. Not even reading your tales and imagine little rabbit Benjamin or the Lady kitty or the hen Sarah…

Pati and Manu, met with Helena and two of her coworkers, beginning to complain about the boys not being there that night.
The smoke was  suffocating me, I began to feel sick. It was really that what I wanted?
A couple was eating their mouths in a corner. He was scrubbing all hands her butt.
I found it so disgusting.
The “chick”, that’s a way to talk about someone nowadays even thought they are not the cute chickens from your tales…- made a break to have a drink. She had all the eye mask made a glob and a really impressive dark circles. She looked like the poor and distressed Munch. But there it was impossible to hear the scream, so perfectly audible at the
picture.
Her face reminded me my palette knife and the nice feeling of stopping the pigment with the linseed oil…This way my paintings had come to life: my doves, my horses, my portraits.

I got out of there and , between the wardrobe and the lockers I just breath out. Because you don’t know it but the last thing you can do in a disco or dance pub is breathing.
I pulled the bangs out if my eyes and stepped back. I stumbled upon something.
At first i thought it was the billiard but…that soft?
I turned around and there he was, saying sorry.
_ No, no, it was me, sorry I stepped on your foot.
_ No way, it was me, I wasn’t looking where I was going…
_ It uses to happen on these places…
I said it dismissive. I didn’t do it on purpose, but it looks like he noticed.
_ They are a pain right?
_ I so agree.
_ Then what are we doing here?

He said with such a witty way that made me laugh.
_ Well, I’m not sure, but maybe only to have something to share.
He looked at the door. It has a porthole window through we could see a piece of sky.
_ what about we sharing a bit of fresh air?
I must admit I had some misgivings. I don’t trust people easily. But I don’t know why I followed him.
_ It won’t be long, I’m leaving in 10 minutes.
_ Ah, curfew?
_ No, no…Not at all. At home we all are adults and responsible.
_ And what that means?
_ We don’t lie, we don’t hide anything. We trust completely each others.
_ Sounds very good. I don’t have curfew either. I live alone.
I looked at him questioningly.
_ I came from Ciudad Real* for work…
_ Here? – I made it sound like it was a joke.
_ You don’t like this place?
_ There is only one thing I love here.
I pointed out the mountains. They are incredible pretty , Beatrix, every second, in the passing of the seasons, at night or day time, they are different, but extremely beautiful.
He nodded.
_ And my family – I added in.
_ Do you have siblings?
_ Yes, three – I answered.
_ Wow!
I smiled satisfied. To me, talking about my brothers is like showing out a medal of honor.
_ And you? Have you left someone there in La Mancha*?
_ My Mother.
_ And your father…?
_ As if he were dead. He left us when I was a baby. I have a stepfather but…I prefer not to talk about him.

 

Because of the the tone of the voice and the afliction of his face I got that I had stepped on a very delicate subject and I flustered.Thanks God, because I have a natural tan, the blushings can’t be noticed easily. Instead my brother, just like my Mother, has very white skin and the flushing get all face and even ears.
Without noticing we had walked to the parking.
My car was there, shiny. I had washed it that evening.
Suddenly I remembered I had forgot totally Manu and Patricia.
Looks like I said it out loud, because Adrian, with disgust, said to me that I was doing ok forgetting them.
_ I guess you have noticed I’ve been looking at you…I’m not good at hiding my moves.
I just felt embarrassed and motionless.
_ And I also have seen with whom are you going out. Those girls aren’t for you.
_ You are being too hard with me, and it’s our first conversation.
_ Same for you, who blamed me for opting for this city.
I took out my keys and I was going to get in the car.
_ Then we are in a draw.
Once again those black eyes, that cheeky smile. Them fascinated me without being aware.
I smiled to him.
He smiled to me.

I guess in a place like that, you know my name – he said.
_ Oh, don’t let it go to your head… I also know your name.
_We are in a draw again.

I got in the car. There in the door of the disco, I thought I saw Manu, but I was to excited with that conversation.
Adrian looked how I get out the car from the parking. Raised his hand as saying good bye, and I remember that, just when I passed in front of the disco, a fatty blond was looking at me.
She reminded to me Sissy Spacek on “Carrie” but featuring Rosie O’Donell., that can be lots worse…Oh well, I’m talking to you about something you don’t know. Do you remember that extraordinary invention of two brothers, the Lumiére? Well, it has been more and more big and incredible, I will tell you about it.

It was long ago that the tender and sincere friendship between Manu and I, had begun to break out. But now, being with her , talking with her, scared me.

And I really knew that Fear is the worst enemy to have to be afraid.
But what I didn’t know was about the situation I was going to be drown some time later.
Now I’m not scared of anyone anymore. I know that Human Dignity  makes possible to be the owner of oneself.

Now I’m scared about something that had not been afraid since I started praying to God, when I had 5, 6 years old.
Now what scares me is the DEATH.

To Be continued…

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* Ciudad Real, city from La Mancha, center of Spain, birthplace of El Quijote and his creator Cervantes.

 

Letters to Nowhere chapter 3 (Cartas a Ninguna parte, capítulo 3)

Estándar

During my dreams I was totally free. Out of them, I’ve never been.
My mind has forgot its origens and it was feeling bad and strange handling a young body in a World created to fit…who knows whom? I envy you, Beatrix because you has not suffered not even one of the images of this end of century. I am aware that I can’t resume in a few lines the complexity of this world, to the one you don’t belong.
I know that maybe I blame a Time because of some personal insignificant circunstances. Insignificant for the Humanity. But not for me.
Now that has passed some time, I repent so much having met Manuela and Patricia, but not to have had fun, while I could, walking, having fantasies about my future, dancing.
The problems came later, When I understood that what I wanted was so different from what other persons from my age, wanted. Much more was hard for me to understand what it can be created in a mind that hates and acts with evilness, no matter the reason.
But it happened. And friendship lost the beauty of its wings and it metamorphosed in an ugly caterpillar. But I couldn’t see it.

Fidel, got tired of the brushes and missing the books, decided to go to study Psychology in France. There was living his brother with his mother, Francis, who has ready a room for him, in a house with garden and plenty of kids.
_ I saw them (Manuela an Patricia) buying the tickets for the movies.
The station was very different for me. It wasn’t grey, not shady neither sad, how it looks for me now.
_ Today?
He nodded.
They refused to go to the movies with me just the day before…
I felt…Weird. I know that with this world I can’t clarify what I felt, but  no other word comes to my mind. They told me that they weren’t feeling like going to the movies. “I’m a sciences person, I don’t like that bullshit” used to say Manuela. And so I went with my brothers, with my Mother and sometimes with Fidel. Sometimes alone.

Fidel was dragging the suitcase along the platform.
The clock was struck a quarter. In 5 minutes the train will began a nocturne trip to the Gauls.
_ Those girls aren’t for you. Trust me.
I sighed ruefully.
_ And who is for me? Tell me before you go and leave me alone.
I asked him laughing and Fidel move his head without knowing what to say. I noticed he was a bit sad. But it wasn’t for him, it was for me.
_ I will write to you every week.
_ You exaggerate.
_ I know… – he smiled.
The comptroller went out with his little marker and leaded to the head of the train.
We got the suitcase on the train and Fidel stamped two noisy kisses on both cheeks.
_ If you  refuse them, you will not be alone any more – this time his eyes showed he was being serious.
The train was going to leave.
_ Send me a photo of the horse painting when you end it!
_ And you one of the french men!

I accompanied the train in a smooth run looking how Fidel was waving his hand with the face illuminated with hope. He really wanted to go back to study…

The first postcard I got was a very pretty photograph of the Eiffel Tower in the Parisian dusk.

“Hello Paloma!
Finally I am here. You can’t imagine the feeling I had when I opened the books, all new…
I already take a look at them. The classes will begin in October and for now I already visited Paris. I hope you left those two bland girls. You must come, here there are lots of mulatto!
Au voir, sweet pie, kisses
Fidel – who miss you lots -“

I took it with me, in the pocket of my coat, until the season changed. But never show it to Manuela and Pati. We had arrived to an strange point of change, of transformation, to where what has had been couldn’t be any more.
The innocence of the 15 years old has converted into a vain mischief of the 18′.
And even though it was in sight of everybody, I wasn’t able to see it. I trusted them. My parents and my auntie Ana, my brothers…All of them talked about how a girl like me could go out with a girls like them.
But I only could see two good friends. I know. I just refused to see the reality and I let them to deceive me.
My mother always tells to me that I must not blame myself. I think so too. But it hurted so much, Beatrix…So much that I hate myself for not being like the others are, that’s why I try to analize myself, study me, look for me, understand me.
Oh, I’m sorry…I’m mixing present with past and this is for me like mixing water with oil. Imagine for you, who doesn’t know who I am and what I pretend to.
When you left to Hill Top, what were you feeling? Did you wanted to run away from the world? from your past? from yourself?

I also would love to leave, but I don’t know where. The Guadiana is my last grant to keep living searching a bit of peace. But I feel that the indestructible frostress that was for me is beginning to break down.
And that scares me.

Someone who needs to run away.

“I will never drink milk again” – I sobbed in the toilet for the

umpteenth time in my Life.
I took that morning six caffe latte, two croissants, one ensaimada* and

milky rice.
When I ended, I washed my face and the reflection returned to me a

pallid, ashen and ill visage. Good reason comparing to how sick I was

feeling. If I had not had diarrhea I don’t know what had happened to

me…I was feeling like dying.
I went out to buy bread and while my Mother made a selection of the

trash between glass, paper and plastic, I was waiting my turn.
_ What do you want, honey?
_ Four loaves of bread and a rounded one, sliced please.
The loaves were piled up in every wood’s shelving according to weight

and shape, separating the integrals from the rye breads, the soy ones

from the focaccia and the gummy loaves, surrogate of bread, more

known by the name baguette, from the laxative dinner rolls.
In the cupboard I could see: ensaimada, croissants, donuts, puff palms,

butter cookies, sponge cake, sugary brioches , choux a la crème, apple

pie, honey cake, cheese cake with walnuts and raisins and cupcakes.
On the counter, to the left, big diet biscuits tins and to the right, the

chocolates.
There was not other boutique better than the Bakery for me.

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To be continued^_^) thanks for reading so far!! *bows*

Continuará, ¡gracias por leer hasta aquí! *venia* ^_^)b

YYuhmi