Monday, November 7, 2011

Escape

Like a bird in a cage,
She felt trapped
There has been a knot in her throat
for a long time,
which has now turned into a pair of hands,
that are chocking her
with every step she takes,
or any decision she makes.

Her heart was divided,
in this bitter sweet feeling,
that formed the tears in her eyes.

This city had given her too much,
new experiences, memories and dreams
the best years of her life.
but she felt like she had to run away,
fly away to a place,
with secrets to unveil,
with adventures to live,
with unknown faces and open hearts.

Against her will of leaving things behind,
she was a free spirit
and could not battle that.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Small poem

"And in the same way she walked into his life, she left
with those silent and wafting movements
that characterized her.
Unnoticeably, she walked off his side,
like the passing of the years...
Only in her absence
is when he started to appreciate her"

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

True love it does exist


Somebody was telling me a story the other day that I believe it deserves to be told, regardless of the sadness that involves it . Such proof of love shows that when people are really in love, they are willing to give anything that is in their hands for the loved one and words like sacrifice, hope, pain and effort acquire a different level of meaning.
I know I related a similar story before in this blog, but in that story the main characters had a different situation, age and expectations.
The story is about a young girl and a young guy, in their late twenties, both good looking with well respected jobs and a good economic status.
They were sweethearts since they met in secondary school and since then, they became inseparable. When they finished their leaving cert the two of them went to college, studied a degree, got jobs and decided to get an apartment together. Their life could have been easier since their families were wealthy enough, but they didn't want to rely on that.
All of a sudden, in a no particular day she started feeling bad... diziness, headaches, sickness but she thought it was probably due to the stress she was suffering at work. Day after day, the bad symptoms increased in intensity and became more constant so the couple decided to visit the doctor.
The terrible news didn't take long to arrive, she had a brain tumour. Doctors were rather hopeful towards the situation and the two young ones decided to fight and win the battle.
They were trying to live the life as they have planned before they found the news and he purposed her one night. They were going to get married when the doctors were expecting the things to be half way sorted.
The girl as any bride would act, was ubber excited. She arranged the venue, the dress, invitations...everything!
Time was passing by and she was not feeling any improvement; all the contrary, she was feeling worse every day. Finally, doctors announced the family that the tumour that was removed had re appeared again and that she had little time left.
Her fiancee convinced her to go on with the wedding, but she had no strenghts left. Her family changed the venue, as the other one could not host the wedding on a sooner day, and organised everything. They were devastated with the news and completely dishearten, but tried to fulfill their daughter's wishes in the best way they could.
The day of the wedding she was really weak, she had to absent herself few times of the reception so that she could rest and recover herself. The bride didn't want any help or people to stop joining themselves because she wanted the things to carry on as normally as they could be.
It was the best reflection of what a bittersweet moment is. Three days later she passed away.

It broke my heart to hear the story and brought my eyes in to tears as it is happening now while I'm writting about it. It's a horrible fate, but at least she went away with the happiness of knowing how beloved she was and being accompanied all the way till the end. She never walked alone


Noticias desde el teclado

Todo el mundo tiene amigos que se encuentran lejos.
Amigos de los que son de toda la vida o, a lo mejor, no de los que se conocen desde hace tanto; pero que son amigos de verdad.
Amigos que se han ido a otra ciudad o a otro pais, porque en su ciudad no encontraban las oportunidades que buscaban o porque quizas hayan encontrado el amor en otro sitio. A lo mejor eres tu el que se ha ido lejos...
Pero son amigos que sabes que estaran ahi siempre que los necesites, pase lo que pase. Puede que pase un tiempo sin que hableis, el dia a dia puede ocupar gran parte del tiempo de las personas y las preocupaciones hace que a veces te olvides de escribir ese mail que tenias pendiente desde hace meses y estas cansado y te dices a ti mismo..."de manyana si que no pasa".
Pero pasa manyana, y pasado, y el otro....Y un dia abres tu mail y te encuentras un email de esa persona. Te dice lo mucho que te echa de menos y como ha ido su vida, te cuenta todas las buenas nuevas que tiene y hace mencion a ciertos problemas que se ha encontrado en el pasado.
Si os dais cuenta, ninguno de esos vuestros amigos, escriben emails con problemas que les pasan actualmente siempre los cuentan en pasado.
Seguramente a vosotros os pase lo mismo, esperais a que hayan tiempos mejores para escribir esos emails y realmente quereis que las cosas mejoren para poder contar a esos amigos todo lo que ha pasado. Encontrar un trabajo que os satisface, un amor que realmente parece el definitivo, hacer nuevos amigos, apuntarse a esas clases de baile que siempre habiais querido hacer pero que nunca habiais podido porque no habia dinero, nueva casa...
Y mientras la vida pasa, y toma giros inesperados y caminos que parecen mas abruptos que lisos pero uno no pierde la esperanza en que cambiara y en que finalmente un dia mandara ese email.
La realidad es que es dificil, es dificil escribir las cosas malas porque es como que se hacen mas fuertes y mas patentes y a la vez te hacen recordad todo aquello que no te va bien y que no te gusta, mientras que cuando las escribes cuando ya han pasado te hacen sentir orgulloso porque has sido capaz de lidiar con ellas...
¿Os pasa a vosotros lo mismo?

***********************************************************

News sent from the keyboard

Everybody has friends that are away.
Friends that you have had since forever, or perhaps, you have met them recently, but people who are real friends.
Some of these friends might have moved to a different city or country, because in their home cities they could not find the opportunities that they were looking for or may be they found love somewhere else. Sometimes, you are the one who has moved somewhere else...
But these are friends that you know they will be by your side not matter what, everytime you need them they will help you out. It can happen that you can stay without talking for while, days can get really busy and the daily worries can keep you so occupied that you forget to write that email that is been pending for a good while or you might be tired that day. Then you think " I'll send that email tomorrow for sure"
But tomorrow comes, and the day after tomorrow and days pass by and that email is never sent. One day you open your inbox and you find an email from your friend telling you how much s/he misses you, how things are going on, the good news and the bad moments that has encountered in the past and how these things had been resoluted.
May be that is what happen to you and the reason why you never write that email, you are hoping for the good news to come or the things to improve to be able to tell them to your friends. A new job or the job you ever wished, that person you think is the right one, a new car, house or even small things such how you started those dance lessons you always wanted to do but you couldn't coz there was no money...
In the meantime, the life keeps its course and takes unexpected turns or paths and some of them can result difficult or even unbearable; but we still wait hoplessly for that day when things will improve or completely change. That day you will send that email that is been bothering you because you know you have to send it.
What nobody knows is that is hard, it is hard to write the problems or bad moments down; it is like if you were openly recognising them and somehow you face them in a deeper way. They become more real and remind you all the things you try to avoid or to forget. Once you overcome them you are happy to write them down because it makes you proud to see how you managed to battle them.

Monday, April 18, 2011

El sonido de la magia



Desde que tengo uso de razon, no me recuerdo de otra forma que amando la musica.
Mi madre es una gran melomana tambien, recuerdo como siempre habia musica sonando en casa desde bien pequenya.
Generalmente, era musica clasica. Artistas como Mozart o Vivaldi amenizaban las manyanas. Tambien se escuchaba otra musica aunque menos frecuentemente, o al menos esa es mi impresion. Musica espanyola de los 80, musica de los 70 u 80 internacional, el famoso Franco Batiato...
Recuerdo que de pequenya estaba enamorada de la musica de Luis Cobos o Mecano; gracias, por supuesto, a la influencia de mi madre.
La musica representa mi inspiracion, el aire que respiro, las emociones que no se o que no puedo expresar, el latido de mi corazon, sentimientos que he guardado o guardo durante tantos anyos y que no quiero o no puedo compartir. Cuando escucho musica, los comparto en silencio. Puedo decir que, probablemente, el unico amor verdadero que encuentre en esta vida es el que he encontrado con la musica.
Cada melodia, estrofa, nota o sonido me inunda, llevandome a mundos lejanos donde todo lo que me rodea es bello, magico y donde me siento completamente feliz. Me permite olvidarme de temas reales, realza mi creatividad, activa mi estamina y mi corage para hacer cosas y para mejorar, para buscar la felicidad, altera mi percepcion haciendome ver solo las cosas buenas o hermosas que me encuentro en mi dia, hace brotar lagrimas que he olvidado o que me he forzado a olvidar como derramar por mi misma, toca mi alma dejando que esta viaje al mundo de las almas de Platon.
Recuerdo cuando me compraron mi piano/teclado. Era bastante caro por entonces, pero creo que es el unico regalo que de veras recordare con preciso detalle el resto de mi vida.
Cuando llegue a casa estaba muy nerviosa, me quede mirandolo durante mucho tiempo y no me atrevia a tocarlo.
Es un teclado o era muy sofisticado, con muchas funciones y demas. Pero ni si quiera me preocupaban. Cuando me atrevi a tocar mi primera tecla no me pude creer que aquel perfecto sonido habia sido creado por mi, por mis manos.
Empece a practicar, nadie me ensanyaba, yo aprendia sola. Me acuerdo que solia practicar y practicar hasta altas horas de la manyana. Me ponia retos a mi misma sobre tocar cierto numero de canciones sin cometer un solo error. Volvia a empezar cada vez que me equivocaba en una nota. Y asi una y otra vez, hasta que caia rendida.
Mi munyeca derecha tiene una desviacion que hacia que me doliera cuando la sobreusaba, pero yo seguia tocando a pesar del dolor.
Nunca me atrevi a pedir ir a clases de piano; no porque pensara que no me las pagarian, si no porque tenia miedo a fracasar, a no ser demasiado buena y darme cuenta de ello. Eso habria supuesto un gran golpe en mi vida, a parte de que no habria sido capaz de digerir que hubiera estado destrozando canciones durante tanto tiempo.
Ahora, cuando tengo la oportunidad de ir a clases; no me atrevo. Sigo teniendo ese miedo panico a no ser capaz de hacerlo bien.
Por el momento, me conformo con respirar, comer, beber y sonyar con musica. Con banyar mis dias con notas musicales de diferente tono y color. Quizas en alguna de esas notas encuentre el valor algun dia de perseguir mi suenyo mas anhelado.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Since I can remember, I don’t remember myself in any other way but loving music.

My mom is a real music lover as well, I remember how the music was always playing in my house since I was a kid.

Normally, it would be classical music. Artists like Mozart or Vivaldi were living up the mornings. There were also other types of music being played, but not as often (or at least that is my impression). Spanish music from the 80’s, international music from the 70’s or 80’s, the infamous Franco Batiato…

I remember when I was in my first years of life and I was in love with the music of Luis Cobos and Mecano; all thanks of, course, to my mom’s influence.

Music represents my inspiration, the air that I breathe, the emotions that I don’t know or I can’t express, the beat of my heart, feelings that I’ve kept or that I still keep during many years and that I can’t and I don’t want to share. When I listen to music, I share these feelings in silence. I could say that, probably, the only true love that I will meet in this life is the one I found in the music.

Each melody, each verse, note or sound floods me, bringing me to far worlds where everything that surrounds me is beautiful, magic and where I feel wholly happy. It allows me to forget the current problems, enhances my creativity, activates my stamina and my courage to do things and to improve, to pursue the happiness, it alters my perception by making me see only the nice and good things that I encounter on my day, makes me flow tears that I forgot how to or I forced myself to forget how to shed, the music touches my soul lifting it up the Plato’s souls’ world.

Remember when I got my first piano. It was quite expensive back then, but I think is the only present that I will be able to remember my whole life with such great detail.

When I arrived home, I was extremely nervous, I stared at it during a long time and I didn’t dare to touch it for a good while.

It is or it was a very sophisticated keyboard, with several applications and that. But I couldn’t bother with those technical functions. When finally got the bravery to touch the first key I couldn’t believe that that perfect sound was after being created by me, with my own hands!

I started practising, nobody was teaching, I was learning by myself. I remember that I used to practise and practise until early in the morning. I used to set targets to myself, such playing certain amount of songs without making a mistake. I was starting the whole thing again everytime I was playing the wrong note. And like this, over and over again until I was falling asleep.

My right wrist has a malformation and used to hurt me when I was overusing the hand, but I kept playing regardless the pain.

I never dared to ask about getting piano lessons, not because I thought my parents wouldn’t pay them but because I was afraid to fail, afraid to not to be good enough and realise about it. That would have implied a big impact in my life, on top of not being able to assimilate that I could of being destroying songs for so long.

Now I have the opportunity to undertake lessons, but I still can’t manage it. I still feel panicking about not being able of doing properly

For the time being, I feel satisfied with breathing, eating, drinking and dreaming about music. Filling my days with music notes of different shades and colors.

Perhaps, in one of those notes I find the courage to pursue my most wished dream.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Despertar

Hay dias de esos en los que te despiertas y de repente ves toda tu vida pasar frente a ti.
Recuerdas como cuando de pequenyo sonyabas con ser astronauta, policia o frutero. La realidad es que a esa edad nada te coaccionaba, no pensabas en cuanto ganarias o como seria tu vida, no pensabas en lo que te costaria alcanzar tu suenyo porque lo que elegias, lo elegias porque era lo que te apasionaba y te haria feliz.
A medida que creces empiezas a toparte con la realidad y a ver que, quizas esos suenyos no son factibles o quizas no recibes el suficiente apoyo por parte de tu familia para perseguirlos. Por lo que sea, es cuando empiezas a modificar tus suenyos a cosas mas "alcanzables".
Haces tests en clase, los cuales te dan un patron profesional que mas encaja con tu persona y unas cuantas profesiones a las que te puedes dedicar porque en teoria te hacen mas "feliz".
Llegas al ultimo anyo de instituto y haces selectividad, automaticamente tienes que saltar al vacio y elegir una carrera que sera la que demarque tu profesion el resto de tu vida. No importa lo decidido que estes o no, porque nadie te da el tiempo que necesitas para tomar esa decision y lo mas importante, nadie te ensenyo a tomar la decision correcta. Una vez eliges tus opciones es cuando te sientas, te planteas tu futuro y te haces planes de esos a medio y largo plazo donde te imaginas y te propones objetivos que aparentemente conseguiras en ese tiempo. Y tambien determinas los que son modificables y los que no.
Yo me hice mis planes tambien; algunos eran claramente modificables como, por ejemplo, mi carrera profesional. Pero tenia muy seguro donde queria encontrarme personalmente con mi edad, sorpresas de la vidal; hoy es una de esas manyanas donde me he levantado y me he dado cuenta de que no estoy cerca ni de lejos de donde queria encontrarme.
Me planteo actualmente si lo que estoy haciendo me hace feliz, si me he olvidado de dedicarme a mi y si me he olvidado de mis reales suenyos. Porque una cosa es olvidarte de ciertos suenyos y otra, olvidarte de todos.
El ritmo frenetico de la vida te empuja a eso, nos absorvemos tanto en nuestro trabajo, en sobrevivir y en disfrutar esos pequenyos espacios de divertimento que hay en nuestra vida que nos olvidamos de porque estamos aqui y a donde queremos llegar.
Y la pregunta que me planteo es, hay marcha atras para cambiar todo o por el contrario deberia lanzarme a la busqueda de nuevos suenyos aunque quizas estos no me hagan tan feliz?