Did Movie Stars Shave Pubic Hair In The 1950s

Sometimes we can spend years without living at all, and suddenly

our whole life is concentrated in a single instant. Oscar Wilde

is the first time in many years that I remember a year out almost exclusively smiles. It is also the first time (and three to 31 December), to reread some posts written here is so significant. Just a year ago pleaded that 2009 was the year of change, of not being in the same place. And I'm not, even though you are writing this in the same room that I occupied for ten years. From this year I managed to get rid of a burden that I had in the most incredible depression. There was an ordinary day where I feel completely happy. The problem stems now I see as the protagonist of "The package" with all that time asleep and woke all my alrederdor are changed and very different lives. Perhaps in this lies I do not feel in the same line that my friends from college or high school. See their relationship lords and routines of adult-contemporary oficinistos me trauma. Guys, have the following decade for such protocols and boredom. I'm not going to waste a day, flogging nonsense insights unnecessary.

year when I feel I'm back to being me. The year of liberty.

Not everything is bright and positive. I still feel an unhealthy anger toward me for the wasted years stupidly stupid actions, stupid decisions, stupid reasons, "I hope it is diluted in 2010.

This year I faced a professional challenge that I looked stunning. It was my Goliath. Today I can say: "Test passed!" and I say with the big mouth full of confidence and pride.

I get along better with my parents and I talked to them more than other times. I went into the realization that one day no longer be, and when that time comes I do not feel that was not enough with them. They are the loves of my life, though we have diametrically opposed ideas.

I left my comfort zone all the ways you can interpret it. The following is shake the fear that prevails before the horizon of the unknown.

MOMENTS OF 2009

-in strict random-

take note. Receipt mail. Calls. "Do not fuck with, I can not do this. One night in March I talk with a friend and decided to return in my steps, no risk. Hours later, someone speaks to me in the messenger and not many words that I can not convince me. It can. Failed.


A Aurrera. I'm so nervous I can not open a refrigerator ... I look for the handle between the hinges. He does it for me and laughs at my stupidity. Sounds cumbia music and dance in the line of the box, now I make fun of his clumsiness. The cashier sees us with disapproval and envy, we held hands and kissed. We buy bottled water, gum. We talked about a trip. Well, two. Then comes the perfect kiss. There is no past, perhaps no future. No grudges, no double messages, no doubts. There certainties. But though brief, are the best I've experienced.

I leave my house. I see the phone, I know that although I warned him not call me to go to tonight's festive event. It was far from being near inseparable. I call the birthday girl and asked how to get "Apúuuurateeeee" he says in his sweet voice. I took a taxi and humming a song, I think it will be a big party and I have really wanted to dance.

He looks as if nothing at my place of work and seeing his face nervously with the forced smile I know that something has earned mothers. He tells me bluntly after fools, when nervous jokes as an infant. After weeks of terror becomes a reality.

the sea. A stifling heat for February. I think of you while watching the ocean and feel the paltry force of a wave hit my right foot decreased. That was the moment when you say goodbye to me forever as a power after traveling vast distances loses its majesty ... but reaches its destination, is celebrating its ordeal. Goodbye, Basave.

The Bus has become a transportation and not hate. I get off and walk home to get Ana and I talk to her to her abreast of developments in the week we hope to her sister, also play with your kitty and a half months. I tell her and she agrees, you should be happy but I'm not so much. Something is not right. Is that ... If you're in an amusement park egg must be beaming with happiness, no?. And I can not even laugh at his jokes. Ironies of life, both went through similar experiences in those days, but unlike me she uses words safer, stronger, more convinced. We left home and took back the Bus. I get a "funny" sms that nothing makes me laugh.

I drink. Estñupido tequilaaa (no, the stupid was I). If there is a drink that gets me drunk very easily is the tequila. I'm at a party, I leave my drunken friends waving my hand and only reached to turn the room to see if they forgot something. I will quote a line of "Love in the Time of Cholera." Gabriel García Márquez, yes, I will refer to the most hated writer and winner of Latin America, JUST to him: "In a moment he revealed the full extent of their delusion, and wondered how he could elevate so long and chimera so similar service in the heart. Florentino tried to say something but Fermina with a gesture stopped him and deleted his life forever. " Found drunk in lucidity.

arrived home and I realize that is one of my favorite places. After talking for hours about everything and nothing fell asleep and only managed to hear the blender neighbor who prepares his morning breakfast college offspring.

At starbucks I hate him and love him. Like hell the damn frappuccino that chain. I sit outside to smoke a cigarette. I have fear. Phobia is a jerk, but finally phobia. I call one of the most trusted people whom I have him much eye-eye, and told him about everything I aquejumbra at that time. So it is wise. By hanging breath and I am relieved to find a procedure that detestable.

I look forward to (and anxiety and fear, but the boniiiiito-and emotion and positive) for 2010, with regard to my personal life. I hope with fear (and disgust and concern and reluctance and fear-of-feiiiíto and courage) to 2010, when it comes to political and economic life of Mexico.

Free Pattern Draft Salwar Shameez

Movimientitis


I have never denied the extent of my ignorance pretentious idiot buenaonda -. I'm gullible, people I am very, very people. When brat I really wanted to hit Mexico's flag in the window of my living room during September, lighting a velvet heart sweater primary on February 14, make it jewelry box with paste and glue my mother for 10 May. To date some dates - recidivism necessarily still "move me."

In my innocence and romanticism exacerbated, I marvel at the idea of \u200b\u200bbelieving that there are millions doing it (and almost similar reasons) the same day-which disgusts the cynics. Maintaining a tradition. It seems that's when really expressed a democracy (because it is very difficult electorally) show that there are millions passing-celebrating-criticizing something. For that reason I also to some marches and protests. I believe that the demonstration of discontent is of paramount importance in a wrong that is known beforehand that the reverse. I'm idealistic.

When twitter emerged the "movement" # internetnecesario , not flunked. I think anyone can complain about anything if it affects it. I did not like at all to set aside a stronger expression in other subsections of the tax reform, YES which were to the detriment of the whole nation. In turn, I got angry every time I read that someone bullshit and exaggerated levels tore their clothes. I do not think that the use of insults and profanity no arguments can be shown that is right (and I say I am very foul-mouthed). After people complained on twitter of # red. The first of December was an effort (other) in the fight against AIDS. What I had no clear was why was all the more vital of all the shares put on a condom. No health organization, government, civil, at least a campaign to examine Midianite free. Full stop than AIDS, serious health problem in Mexico, not far from the horror that it is in Africa. Education campaigns we've had since elementary school, have only served to dread disease, and therefore, a kind of disgust or leprosy in biblical times. So nobody believes that it is or that can acquire, and how awful to go to get tested "Why, if I've only been with my boyfriend 3 years and we together? "I would say" Queen, and you know that if you put the horn or if any ex-girlfriend put it on him? ". I see that all the brave so tweet dedication, they can get elisa (I think they know what a elisa ).

"Nor do I imagine doing 365 days all: celebrate my mom and dad, and my nieces and my friends and think about cancer, and AIDS, and the dead, and Jesusito on the site, and in the environment, y. .. you really can endure daily reflections on various topics? .-

Y then it was I who walking using a hashtag . How utterly depressing is the Telethon, but I say for reasons contrary to their intention (or perhaps are correct, on second thought). Generates more morbid to read the notes TV. Human misery is to sell as a contest "to see which child is more fucked - drooling -crippled-bright." Then I start to annoy the Telethon twitter: That's one way of demonstration idiot and reactionary, unproductive, irrelevant , releasing anger in case ... Then I realize that for some who join a cause (such as hitting a ribbon on your avatar Reference pink breast cancer) do to release your consciousness. "I if I do something, I am interested in A, sísoyunserhumano ." Yes Yes but no. That's just to look like an idiot not insensitive, or to feel part of something and the easiest way to free and ligerita to do this is through "The Web 2.0: the place where you will define itself ". Aha.

If something worries you, why just put it in bits?

Although not trust people who do not support-military- still complaining something. Whatever (not fanatics ends eh). It makes me wonder. Do you have blood in their veins? Do you believe panaceas of reason or is so self-centered not have the luxury of joining with others or on issues that concern them ?. I'm fertile ground for fraudsters (sometimes).

Cynics handle the gullible. And I'm

posting what many already know and have very chewed up, but we the masses, no.
Then came the issue of # esclavosliverpool . Before researching I assumed if you read on twitter was true, then proceed to erretearlo and the whole thing. The passing of the hours people are more and more indignant, the rumor was spreading. "Someone" called for a protest outside Liverpool Delta Park. Rescuerdo have read many tweets of people who were preparing to go, writing cards, flyers planning. to Ricky Matin was appalled. Then I decided to go and see with my own eyes what was happening chihuahuas, have first hand info, I do not find out by a biased report or information mannose-think that last one was a tautology.

Surprise: I arrived twenty minutes after the event and saw nothing. NOTHING, I walked around Square, I entered the store, looked over the heads of passers "How looks a twitterers outraged?". I was about to retire when I noticed someone filming the facade of the store and make out the word "slaves." Then we found three others. No one else. The police were running, Quesque because the sidewalk is also liverpool because delegation agreed with the fix and put pretty arbustitos so if you want we can run. WERE IN THE STREETS, please. We withdrew because words become a cop is finally obeying the stupidity that prompts diaper pattern is not very different from what we've all done some time in a job, "poor dude what fault is" I told those who were with me. Leaving the neighborhood (word reportorial that makes me feel elegant use) of the shopping complex an hour and twenty minutes after the initial tape. FIVE people. I grabbed my iphone to check the hashtag , came tweets every 3 minutes ... Where were all angry and outraged citizens? ...

way home I talked to N . He said many truths. I understood my haste and how easy it is to become the puppet of a foreign interest, how naive we are many to read and believe that why a note is a news site or wikipedia is true. We're not so far from the socks to donate to the telethon. The "someone" who invited the protest came about two hours later than agreed and tweeted (with photos and all) what you told the police, especially its real-time reports were to wield as a victim of the system and exemplary citizen who is disgusted by the indifference of mall shoppers. It bothered me that everything seems to be oriented reflectors.

I still do not know if it is true that people in a shelter in Iztapalapa manufactured bags or packages for Liverpool ( here's an article that happened to me via twitter ). Every day I trust less in the media of communication (since none saw fit to further investigate whether the libel to Liverpool or terminate impenetrable wall built to defend their shenanigans). What rescue experience is sadly what happens internet internet stays . We are warriors ... on a desk.

And what a beautiful thing and fun is the campaign of Mero Mole Your Love to social networks. Please go see the campaign blog: http://semosmole.blogspot.com , support the candidate of all. If they believe we are taking the seriously and that all this is to win in cell Mole, what mistake (well, if it wins that tweeted more, I say). It is a great travesty, a mockery of political campaigns, advertising , and even Twitter # movements-a little is also what gives us a lot of courage than any Babot very establishing chingón of a network unless you know and write and / or resort to cheating to win, then I speak to these two .-

funny thing is that many people are bothered by the joke "should take everything more seriously," Aha. when we do no one peels and only bile spilled in # tuitsinnecesarios . If we solemnly bad, if we behave socks, too.

Anyway, the thing is I'm to the crest of the protest to dude. Greetings to all those that do more than complain, and do not need the recognition of the public who look with admiration.

Follando En Restarant

Eclipse of sun.

I have a black shadow on me will not let me see anything. I
landed.
My sun is small and white, it solidifies.

Going forward and backward, falling apart. Expanding
and contrayéndome at a time. Gripped.

My heart is a trough full of water that overflows.

I fall and get up.

feel fear. Horror of the world. I look and do not recognize myself. I am a chrysalis . That will not me. I have a crust of bone that will not let me even see the light, nor the future. Anything could happen. It could be anything, and nothing would surprise me. I shot the world, and I can not stop. My landing is not up to me. I am a lead bullet with a parabolic target and unpredictable . A girl-bullet.

Here I go. Sun



PD (From here, "the depression of the month" transmitted across the national network, the toilet, the chain reaction, chain supermarkets, my gold chain inside underwear and I can not put no mourn the horror)

Pain Above Waist On Left Side In Back

When I started working at the offices of peripheral I thought I would learn to drive and have car. I took a course until Choncho avenues circulating yet learned not to park and took more than two years without touching a steering wheel. I discovered that mine, mine, mine, not handle. Not that I did wrong, contrary to what many may think it's because I DO NOT LIKE. I also discovered that I do not like cars. Very expensive, very dirty. I remember during that workshop, my instructor used a model ninety Tsuru few. I was uncomfortable that some people passed me and turned to see me with an air of grandeur only by the order in which were climbing, and that if they got right to drive worse than savages, as if the space of the street is paid to the value of your fucking car. Once during a break, a bore that came in a ... chale, is that I did not know the names of the models, well, coming in a very expensive, he looked at me as if to say "but what can click old ... Did you move from your poverty will not find me irresistible, baby? ". It is a delusion or what some call "social resentment, no, got the green light and dude that was looking at me and making stupid, pffff , best advances I, but not before make the snout of more rump fed up of my life. Get asshole-your-ship-to-see-if-you-be. Come on, is the worst and most far pendeja economic status. With the clothes are different. With education is different. The car is the only place where you "value" before see or hear or know. Many friends and family are surprised that my shabby old and after some years of work, still do not have car. "It has to be well screwed " think. Slugs, there is nothing that will depreciate more than a car. And on top of tenure, and above insurance, and over the service, and woe to you, but woe to you which shock and insurance do not cover. No thanks, anytime something that I suck the money worse than a rod, I'd better buy a dog.

Who would not have been ready to trample cruelly? How many motorists you have touched the horn faster for you to go through a street? When does leave a lot to be people when climbing into his car?

Since it became clear the first point of why I dislike the cars, turn to the second. What blunt head fits the idea that all we-should drive a car in a metropolitan area with 20 million people, damaged roads and centralized?. Clear to me that the first such idea seems perfect is the mighty from the automotive and oil. And even worse is the belief that owning a car is the ultimate happiness of a worker and there are reflected the efforts of years of savings, or years to repay a loan. Great irony: What occupies the worker car?, Basically to go to that office slave like thousands of others and make the streets a monument to the slowness. I get the impression that the car rather than own it, they are his. "It's just that I can not go to eat-out-drink coffee, because I have to pay the monthly ... and I'm good witch."

A couple of weeks I had to go Forests de las Lomas. I got faster in metro (at peak time, what a pleasure) and truck new trucks Reform are as clean and efficient. I can read, watch people make fun of horrible hairstyles, listening to conversations highly outside twitteables , go see the street and the people in it. I can OBSERVE. I will not deny that at the same time is more exposed to certain types of abuses and unpleasant situations. But I prefer to handle all that ... and pollution (ay, todañoña ).

The third point is the most obvious: polusión . Asco. The amount of gasoline that burns a 4-seater car that only takes ONE clerk Estresadito . My sister works in Santa Fe-poor woman-and co-workers passing through the meter so that Hidalgo is not "you'll waste space."

Crean or not (as if it were religion, let me the favor) in global warming, to me it makes me nauseous stench of busy avenues in addition to seeing the filthy cream around Efe DE_ . And more disgusted I get to see much conflict-dependence on oil.

I have the luck to live near a subway and not be painful for hitchhiking.

All I was saying is: do not insist, I'll buy a car. Not now. I prefer use my money in another way, a more constructive. PD

forgot that also gives me a lot ñáñara hit someone to go in the asshole-a relatively common thing in me, I also include in this section the fear of a crash that is my responsibility.

Mouse Doesnt Move On Toshiba Laptop

not drive the crap

"I confess, before you eager readers, that I have sinned in thought, word, work and vote . For my fault, my fault, through my great faults. And I ask Chilangelina always indulgent to bloggers, twitters to you and countrymen to pray for me to the applicant country. "

I can hardly speak, confess. And I find it harder to accept that I saw every bit face. At least I'm not alone, are myself and another fourteen millones nine hundred and sixteen thousand nine hundred twenty-seven Mexican (or so says IFE).

In July 2006, I voted for Felipe Calderón.

What, do you believe her, you bought it?. No. My vote was something like a useful vote, choose someone considered "less worse." Several of AMLO supporters have expressed remorse post-election do not judge me by. Do not want to fall in sterile disputes now, my opinion of Andres Manuel Lopez Obrador has not changed significantly from the year two thousand, come on, I went with the fake of the "danger to Mexico" campaign I now understand as excessive and in bad taste, but in 2006 considered the rudeness necessary puercota , but "in war and love," and politics-anything goes. " This post is a kind of atonement malhechota .

"We'd better Lopez Obrador ... no one can know for sure. I only know that the president of Mexico is the same for which I voted, and bring a huge guilty conscience. Mistake after mistake, crap after crap, feel like the sole responsibility . It's horrible. Worse, the fact that a political issue to me eternally label of "right", " yunquista ", "retrograde", "mocha", "bourgeois", etc. I have never disqualified anyone for their decisions political or partisan trends. A person is more complex than the ball of idiots who feel represented . What I learned from my eighteen years (when I voted for the first time) is that no party is ideal. In all there is corruption, dirty tricks and idiocy. Maybe I'm conservative for pseudo Mexican left and too liberal for the far right. Truth has never been able to feel fully identified with any party in my country.

and disappointed years later, I was thrilled with the idea to cancel my vote. "That gets the rogue, aha. It turned out the backfire most infamous: the return of the PRI and the consequent adoption of reforms at all represent the will of the people Mexican.

feel that whatever I do will be wrong. if I go to a march, bad, if not I, too, if I cancel my vote worse, if his conscience vote ... looong six years. I hope and know better decisions when needed. I thought probably in the 2012 elections the "punishment vote" is the prevailing . Time will tell.

the corruption policy has placed me in a paralyzing uncertainty .

Welcome Letter To Vip Guests

Life after death

Peco often solemn. What many can be a celebration of fashion senseless and (best-we-a-halloween!), To me brings insights and internal dialogues with the participation of several partners. I try to talk with them with "Those who are no longer."

And I like to remember, find your photos, think like them, make a space in the middle of the house just as if they were to visit and sit in the room. Mezcal my grandfather's cigars my great-aunt, the beers from my uncle and aunt .

And my grandfather , the most recent absence.

In the village of my parents (like many) are accustomed to call "new offerings" "logical," when is the first time someone is starring in one. The family friends weave and embroider napkins with saints and religious motifs are used to decorate those instead of confetti. It is also made an acrostic with the name of the newly deceased. My grandmother asked me to write the Hermilo. As you can see, I'm just a person of letters, but did my best to write something that would have pulled the old man laughed. I've been thinking about it almost every day. Even my mother said that to hear me speak, saying "nonsense" constantly feels that he hears his father, I'm just as outgoing and talkative than he. I myself realize that there are aspects of my character look a lot like starting your own. I turned a year a month without seeing now.

My dad prepares each year a perforated white box in the shape of a cross to which he puts a spotlight and placed in the top of the offering. The way my mom is arranging things and the number of candles that we have meaning. His brothers and his father occupied a privileged place on our altar. Since childhood I liked to see the market getting overheated Jamaica with bouquets and bouquets of flowers, candles, bags with skulls, incense-oh, the subtle aroma of incense filled the house. She told me a legend of "the soul alone", that soul who has not put an offering and therefore gets a light "extra" in offering dedicated to her. Since then I am sad how easily many dead are forgotten. Several years have gone to the French cemetery to visit the semi-abandoned tomb Basave aunt. About 70% of the tombstones are no flowers in full day of the dead. It's sad. It is also chilling to see the monuments of the graves of children. Angels are neglected and aged who are gloomy. Most are from early last century, it is easy to see that almost all these children and unborn babies died at a time without vaccines or penicillin.

The Day of the Dead is a celebration of nostalgia, attachment and stubbornness. I do not see it as a purely humorous event where the Mexicans make fun of death, I see it more as the night where we say: you can not ever separate us, while I live will not make him forget them. I

fantasized about my own offering. How not to do if you've been three times around materialize. I want to be majestic. I garnachas paths and sauces on my altar. Cigars, tequila, mole. I put my best shot and my favorite music background. It is the height of egocentrism: I will not forget me when I'm dead

And what more would, again, is to view it. That last is the greatest desire I have in life. Ja!.

Sentimental Vote Of Thanks

and forgotten.

Two years ago I had the " ideota " to open a blog and started writing nonsense here. I never imagined so many people know, now adored and loved here, hello boys. No I've posted, every time I have more in oblivion to my blog. There were tired

changes since I stopped writing . I thought a lot in this space but virtually take more than a month without visiting: change the name, purpose, my nickname mud, design, use only one theme in all post: / staff / cinephile / chistosón / cábula / intenso-azotado/México DF / whiner / prentencioso / diseñísitco prof / Gadgetero. But why, my blog has all these labels, and although each time I find it harder to post because many of those readers and have virtual face and what a shame, farewell amigueril balconea pseudo anonymity. Reach the conclusion that I do not want to unify their line, which is of chile, mole, and pozole. And definitely not will close.

few weeks ago was my birthday and I went into crisis. Whenever I go into crisis. I suffer from my eleven years with the arrival of another year. First child would not leave after puberty and then adolescence. The fact is that "it bag" to move forward. And excuse me women of thirty, but I have told me terrible things about those dollars and less lively feel of accompany (not altered, as I said at seventeen those of twenty "and go to work and how ugly is it, enjoy the university") - Just kidding! -. I hate all the negative things people say about the third decade, so in theory we should be-own-craving. What really worries me age is the loss of the sense of wonder.

somewhat silly example: I went to the concert of Placebo of and Depeche Mode . Both are my favorite bands. In both the seen before. Something changed, the concerts me excited , the company could not be better ... but it was not the same as in years ago. It reminds me quella theory Kundera, where he speaks of repetition. A man tells the first woman in his life for the first time "I love you" and no doubt the authenticity of their feelings. It's touching. But if that same man says to the twenty-sixth woman in his life for the twenty-third time, "I love you" is simply ridiculous, though his love is so true and intense as the first.

Will as time goes on everything becomes familiar territory?.

pavorconvertirme I'm in a movie than to see so many times that even my favorite, get bored and the only feeling I wake up is the nostalgia ... or worse boredom.

Recent four years of my life were like a kind of anesthesia, which I just waking up. Continuously I kept saying to myself, places, people, situations. I recently remembered what it was a decade ago. Although it did not know well which way to go, always had a kind of signs indicating the route: preparatorianos year, quarter over quarter in the race. Finish college and then do social service, the first steps work, the first major work, the challenges overcome. So the fact they have worked on the same site more than three years, seems to indicate that you must end the cycle. I do not know what to do or where to move, there are no road signs, but fog: uncertainty. A fortnight ago I changed my chamba facilities. And somehow it meanings, I represents full circle. It's silly, it's just a place, a space. Rumor maybe even leave ( we ) to work there, still do not know. I do not worry as this post. I do not want to be afraid to change, grow, grow old. Resigned to the monotony and homesickness. A melancholy and the past.

is time to look for these new experiences they can return to shake the foundations of this ancient construction. Let's see, what I need to do, and having the courage and opportunity to carry out?. The list is so long.

Canker Sore Drinking Soda

Change "And we turn back Into pumpkins, right?"

What Colour Goes With Brown Black And White

is incredible muscular pain I have.

What will I do with this contraction, oh my God, what am I gonna do?
And today I was walking down the aisle, do not know why I was walking down the aisle, and I thought, "I'm getting used to this contracture" as if that was good, like it was good to get used.
I Contracted since 9 September. It did not start there, started earlier, but on September 9 contracture was so great that I vomited. I threw everything I had eaten.
Since I got sick did not stop. Life suddenly is making me quite painful. Before I had a lot to be desired. Now is not that I want. More money out there, in order to move. I would like go on vacation a while, put your feet in the water. yes I would like. Do out there in January, yes, why not. Going to the beach, Villa Gesell, as before. Although I suppose it's different. Neither good nor bad, just different. Because now I have no Villa Gesell 20 years and is full of people aged 18 to 20 years. Perhaps all that jive I do not feel young. But do not blame my 25 years. Actually, I like to make the time go, do not blame all the time. I like to grow, and know that little by little, at some point, I'll get older. And I'll be wrinkled and soft, and do what I can, like everyone else.
Now that I think, that would be wrinkled and soft, that is what I want to be. But if I'm well, I will go gradually hardening, from the outside in, and some day like everyone else, without my being aware, my heart contractions, and I doubled over, like a wounded and full of muscle blood. And that day I will think on this day, and this September, where my head hurt like never in the damn back, and I say, "I should have done something then, and not used to this hardness, this pain muscle. " Much
I begin to appear as unknowns along time passes, as the subject of back pain, is it that all people adult and older, has pain and get used? I previously had no such tremendous pain. Muscle pain now makes me a headache, I can not do anything, I can not think or read or write when I'm well. It's like being constantly ill.
It occurs to me that I have since I received it, but then what do you do? "Start another career? It is not a solution. Do you offer new targets? Live propose some goals and I enjoy meeting them enough, the truth is that I have a nice career. What do I do? Around what I contracture is time to pass, and I'm about to turn 26, but when I think, no, I do not think so. I say, time passes and it is inevitable.
do not know why do I have this discomfort. But it is the first time it happens so, so strong, so I want to rescue, because it is something that had not happened to me and now I've got. I would like to relax, meditate, do not eat for a few days, do something, a spiritual retreat, which I clean everything. Worse not sure how to do or where to turn. I have a tremendous need for rest, to 100%.
Yes, I think I need a vacation. That's what I'm needing.

Acoustical Solutions, Brampton

peak a month ago and I'm going to piano. I am very happy because I think I want to play the piano since age 8, or even earlier. This week I could not practice because I grabbed the contracture of my life. I had severe pain head and I had to do acupuncture. After acupuncture, I spent two days without being able to bend down for a few stabs I made in the sciatic, is seen to be part of the treatment, so I was prostrate on Saturday and Sunday. He had plans for this weekend, Friday went to see a friend acting, and Saturday was the work of a friend. So I could not go, for my misfortune.

Instead, I dug my straight 6 episodes of "Twin Peaks", which I have enganchadísima. Lynch is best, I already knew, but with this series confirmed. A weekend television and heating pad. God, and think that I have only 25 years. What will happen to me this 40?

"Body Art" is at the VII Festival Internacional de Teatro de Buenos Aires. I remember we went with Mary and Ramiro (Migue was not yet in the group) to stand in line to buy tickets from the 2007 festival, and we said "We have to be at the next festival." Of course at that time was it almost a utopia. We had not even premiered. And now we are. Sometimes I think I can not complain of this life. Well, even I'm not complaining, but if I complained, I say "I can not complain, hey." First time in the festival.

The functions of the festival is on Sunday October 11th at 23 pm and Wednesday October 14 at 19 pm. Tickets can be bought online or at The House of Culture (Av de Mayo 575) or sent directly to see if there is room.

not, can come from 21 October that the work re retrained, through November (there are 6 functions) on Wednesdays at 20 pm, provided everything in ElKafka. You know, all data are www.elsindromedelbodyart.blogspot.com

Well, that. And rehearsing a new play, which I will not say names. Is secret. Also, I have the illusion that a prize winner, and saw all the contests are under a pseudonym.

Writing a new, a snake boy, it seems. Very rare. Not yet what it is.

Well, spring is coming just spent the winter, at the end. September 14, what more I can ask. On September 17 my grandmother died Lina, and seven years without it, their mates Avellaneda water, rice with butter. I can imitate the rice, water de Avellaneda, the truth is not. Sol

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My Diary "magical." The summer days


was the sensation of 1994. A kind of aparatejo combining a PDA with an attempt to gameboy, lucky reader, a currency converter and a few more goodies. I guess some commercial saw in December and asked what the kings, as I recall, was the last time I made a little note . Had a couple of years without experiencing an emotion and the depository who lived under the tree.

I wore it to school daily. wrote little notes on it, I know I could do it in a notebook, but my keyboard and see on that screen buzzwords ridiculously small, monochromatic and unintelligible to me, was close to being "scientific" or to witness a miracle . To date though I explained (and I know in advance) how it works LCD monitor or a touchscreen, I keep to fascinate me. Neither science nor technology are no longer marvel since then. I made their profiles to all my friends, that was one of his greatest graces: you could choose from several types of faces, hair, eyes, noses and mouths, to build the face of a tipín . There were added juntitos your name, phone number and address. I figured he needed only to have input headphones and radio reception (in my head the illusion that the music fit into a small space was not matching any) to be a perfect device.

I liked the idea of \u200b\u200bwriting every day on it, shame that its report would not let me. Frequency was reduced to one week, a wave very stylish Doogie Howser . Andale , was just as fussy doc. The Chunche that would begin allowing the utopia that I observed in those days, I do not remember where, and which ensured that somewhere in the twenty-first century could record our entire lives. This utopia find it very close now.

What is the joke of keeping a journal, what's the point?. For me it's time to return . Read is to live it again. Or almost ... This was the main reason for this blog. And the twitter of . The main twitter function (in addition to interaction with others) is the possibility of writing a mood, a complaint, an idea, and that should be recorded. Magic

The Diary was me two years, and third I bought a "Super my diary magic" and that brought some kind of primitive bluetooth called "magic beam "with which you could connect with other devices, but only one student was a technology enthusiast gadgeteril (at thirteen and geeks were unknowingly). Still in high school what I will use, he could write more little things, I had more memory and notes were ... 381 characters!. Mjm . In aparatejo today I have what I call as My twits teens when twitter was not even in the dreams of Jack Dorsey ". With all that I have a steady hand and drawn him to do, I can not write pen-on-hand-paper when I'm moving. So in my high school busing, and eventually into the subway line 2, I used my diariecito : "16 - June -95 Today I bothered much with Vania . He kept talking to the monkey -used the word monkey , je - that of the classroom. I like very fat. I took 10 in World History. "

I returned to my drawers to look for that last week I remembered when I finally bought the iphone , and I was in a déjà vu . I'm like as a child in one sixth of January.

Just yesterday I had an epiphany. I was in San Ildefonso and assholes tried to take pictures of an installation. I get frustrated a lot because I do not (be I do something very stupid, but bueh ... let them and their backward policies.) I have taken photos (but kebabs) of almost all expos to which I have gone for a couple of years, I can deny the sacred right of treasure-archive my memories?. I complained via twitter . I left the museum, it was drizzling. I walked around the Plaza de la Constitution, I took many pictures. The rain had emptied a bit, then I pretend to talk into the microphone of iphone , talking to someone on the phone. But I did not do that. I was saying, recording a message.

I got home, I ate a shrimp broth (no gamble, eh). My mother cooked it on Saturday. A fish and shellfish do not I have such empathy , I think that while I eat. Looking between the movies I've purchased and have not seen. Sale one that had completely forgotten " Away from her." I dread the idea of \u200b\u200bgoing forgetting my life and lose my memories as the lights of a house that gradually fade away until it is in shadow, into nothingness. I think that because in the film, Fiona suffers from Alzheimer and has been her lover, but with tail tremendota step-husband for forty five years, suffered a titipuchal because of it, and who loses. And she lost herself. Then I cry (not exalted but moving. Follow the lines of "The Notebook," but with more plot and less marshmallow). So in addition to mourn, remember the utopia of talking at the beginning of the post. I want to save what is precious to me and those are my memories.

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I have not always hated the summer. There were years where I went unnoticed. From birth I suffered continuously respiratory diseases , so my summer evenings were confined to my bedroom: saw the other kids jump in puddles left by the torrential rain of July. It is not free one of the more marked olfactory memories that I have is that of my breath bouncing off the window glass. For my health that were lethal extremes: heat + summer = rain = hospital.

After fourteen years I began to notice certain conincidencias between bad news and the fucking summer. Among the good memories and wonderful summer. The evening skies deeply blue, with clouds forming and cirrocumulus altocumulus hiding incongruous forms are the same afternoon sky a few hours later transformed in nimbostratus with fearsome storms that prevent us from leaving. Tis the season of contradiction . It is assumed that people get depressed in winter due to low light, cold ago and everything appears to be gray. I altered more uncertainty summer. Or cold or hot weather, make up your mind a damn good time.

Anyway, this summer has not been so bad (and I use the word summer too, I know). Despite going against my health I have left willingly soaked by rain quarrelsome. What does it run or refuge Pegaditas to the wall or under a balcony. Already what I put in a bad mood, I'll do that in my childhood was not: walk in the rain. The heat did not overwhelm me. I am leaving aside the complex physical stupid that I have. I wear skirts, I have skinny legs, sickly white and why. And if I feel like I have seen with baring blouse, but has little to "prop." What I have is heat, not wanting to attract attention or be the target of vicious criticism. As my summers are radical days great days depresivísimos VS. In fact I'm sick, I ascribe my bad the fickle climate of these days (yeah uh-uh).

Why not how my autumns?. Quiet, accurate, enfiestados. O my winters thoughtful, nostalgic, plaintive . O my spring happy, optimistic, enthusiastic.

He described the boom of a year for these months, just those in the middle June, July and August. Spanning the early weeks and more or less know what to expect from missing. This year I can not say, the summer was very tibiesón . Or is that events are simply fairly good and fairly bad?.

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live again / Reprise

The core of a film is its script. Nothing succeeds in being exalted without the magnificent thread that weaves reflections, twists, and interesting personalities. The words and ideas are the greatest creation of human brain (asegún, why in some cases I have my doubts). As many have described this increasingly pluralistic sense of living your life like a book or a novel being handled by the invisible orders and whimsical designs of a writer-writer whelp.

If you go to see this gem to the movies (which can still be, I saw the movie library since November, but I needed to see it again to sort my busy mentecita), find the Hitori Phillip and Erik, a pair of jovezuelos buenaondita living and writing. The film's narrative referred me unmistakably to "Trainspotting" but without losing in the density of heroin and self-destruction. Or not. Reprise seems not much, but it also speaks of a not-knowing-what-fart and imminent self-destruction in some characters. The purpose of the movie I referred unmistakably to "Reconstruction", the wonder of the Danish film by Christopher Boe. But without saying explicitly that it was all a product of fiction or a story of possibilities. Or not. Reprise makes it clear in the first two minutes, when we presented a historical pisatalones counted and suddenly stops at the key initial frame, rewind, and tells us all more calmita and detail. It is when the director gets more detailed. We talk with the help of the voice of "writer" Reprise, those things that only long, endless dialogue scenes could accomplish.
Erik and Phillip are friends, best friends, those you define "friendship." Of those who have been at the worst time of your life. Of those who are your mates partying, pedas, passions, work. Of those with whom they say everything in between silences . Alongside them live less complex socks. Are Norwegian. Incredibly, the Norwegians also want to leave their country, also want to go to France to escape his small-flavors: What fuck you breathe in the air of Paris that everyone is so desperate for sniff?. For now I guess only Latinos with the desire to run away and stomp other lands across the Atlantic. And no, it is also the Norwegians are dazzled by the clichés. I'm flattered the position of fine humor, intelligent, and half a papaya, I feel less gross than usual. The thing is that we are in the hands of a writer, a narrator tells of the comings and goings of novice writers. A narrator who reveals and shows us how to weave a story.

And then I have the projection:

Who would not want to plan and justify their actions?, Or better yet, those of others. Who would not want to imagine different descenlace, climax hit, nonexistent and impossible encounters?. Who would not listen qusiera the writer of the script of our life?.

I guess the key point tracking (I like to say "key frame" animation frame is a key point in the timeline where a major change happens in the path of an object) of my existence. Where should this happen one way or the other completely changed its meaning.

Example:

I chose to study in the UAM. While taking in hand the roles of ENAP, registration, payments, games, schedules. I can not imagine how different my life would have waiting a few months to the end of the strike: "Enter the ENAP and still coexist happily with his friends in the 603. He realizes he's in love with Ignacio that draws very nice and is the only one who appreciates your photos out of focus; then decides to give high school boyfriend. Studying the even every semester. It will live together one year after graduation and are the first of his friends in doing so, the family opposes. They are Romeo and Juliet, but not support it as such a comparison is ridiculous, worn, and stupid. They put a design office. His loft is in the Colonia Roma. She still does not know what it tastes like beer, does not drink or smoke. Practice yoga every day. They two dogs. She wakes up one day and discovers Ignacio died in the room. He committed suicide because he could not bear so much happiness. She feels disgust at herself as her husband's death has sparked a deep creative streak. After Laconica depression becomes bad painter painter ... but perfect love story and the hubby Quesque suicide give culturosos fame in the gait of the city. "
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more this old tape, what would have happened to him took the floor to my much admired history teacher in high school: "'what's yours is right, the social area, is more Mario and you should study philosophy." Found in the corresponding time alternative to a frustrated student who is intimidated by so much wisdom, was changed three times in career and feels that gives the width of any. But ... What's good with Colmex pedas! "Is that my teacher told me about the wonders of Colmex meetings. Mario, however, over philosophy and has written his first novel "Aurelia." Live a stint in Japan. She, desperate for money to survive, he went to work in a small office where he is captured. Daily lives, has left a couple of years ago from the paternal home, their parents were not willing to continue carrying the parasite undecided. A twenty-six, yet the course work degree in history, just the fifth semester. At work one of the leaders has been suggested up to extreme harassment and she plans to sue "damn chauvinist pig, muéeeereeete" wherever I could burn fraglacia. And it succeeds. Being about to raise the complaint, the chauvinist pig roomatele as presents to her new boyfriend. To tell her what had happened, far from finding and support comprensón become unemployed and homeless. "Click Alejandra rump." A fellow of the university gives asylum. Find a job as a waitress in Coyoacan. One day seems gray and disappointments, Mario gets the coffee to remember the times preparatorianos. is a happy man and full . Offers assistant job. She was delighted. "
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again, what would happen if instead of freseis had studied in a career in the cop:" It was wonderful how she has been able to develop their numerical ability and abstract reasoning. And he has managed to remove all trace of sentimentality or pity in his heart. is twenty years and is doing a PhD in Robotics at MIT, as the result of research conducted during his student years were outstanding. A prototype developed with other (somewhat less able) students won an international competition. There was a boyfriend for the race who made the relationship more sappy and boring, but ended up what he could not resist his success. However, sometimes talking on skype. She is married to a gringo who speaks neither smiling bit of English, but ironically the French and German will leave enough fluids. I knew it was his dentist. She uses brakes from the twenty. have sex once every two months, by mutual agreement, both seem to only be excited by the sound of a machine running. you like the monotonous life in the suburbs in the cold state of Massachusetts. No stranger to anything or anyone in Mexico. "

More?

" Their parents divorced at the age of nine years and goes with her mother in Sinaloa, to live with the unmarried uncle and military. At fourteen middle of a spectacular tantrum, run away from the house where you felt confined, restricted, and spiteful. A drug dealer falls in love with it provides you with luxuries disgusting. She has two children before twenty. Decide to leave the drug when he hits, runs again, but only one child. He leaves with his uncle, to Merida. That leaves the other tumor, so the guy always wanted a son. He moves to Mexico and start living in the suburbs. After some skillful strategic moves (swindle, it) has enough money to put a business. Now owns a bar and control drug trafficking in the Zona Rosa. "

But those are just examples Baratone arguments.

What made this film becomes endearing is that I was part of it as one of the protagonists. I've been through the same places that almost all the characters:

Stubbornness nauseating and without arguments, unwavering friendship, the discomfort of silence, not understanding what happens to my life, being a fan -up to stupid-limits in a band, the despise friends trashed the original form of life to change it to that status because they more repulsive ...

(this is one of the best scenes "shit" of the film. One of them, Lars, passes the entire tape, saying the biggest-but funny, misery-misogynistic phrases that I had the misfortune to hear "no need a girlfriend, it distracts you, if you hear a woman say something intelligent or have a respectable opinion about music, literature, or cinema, it is because he learned from his father or boyfriend, with them must be cruel, like Zarathustra. " Animal House, arrogant, and lover of porn (do some avalanche?). One day Erik invited to a party at home as they have gone several weeks without seeing. He tells them to others. When you arrive realize that the party is nothing but the typical dinner Yupie four beautiful and successful couples drinking wine in the candlelight, Lars FINALLY has encotraba girlfriend, a very wealthy, and that is why we have launched a co- revelry. Phillip it spits out a "is the saddest thing I've seen in my life," and he was right. I greatly enfuerece of there who can ESAR, two, three, fifteen, twenty years of his life and then attacking a position, as well as facilitated, embrace the opposition.)

The fear of the future, the admiration, blind devotion and teenager by a writer (if only I had lived in Prague in the sixties, or Argentina in the seventies). Infatuation idyllic magical-musical:

- Seven, eight, nine, ten. After you finish counting to ten my eyes met your eyes in the middle of this party. After you finish counting to ten you'll love me. Seven, eight, nine, ten- The faith in fated love, unique and unrepeatable.
Perhaps the most significant similtd sientí in the character of Phillip. Anyone who has seen this film will find out a secret of my life if you read the following words: It is with the character that I identified. One afternoon I did exactly the same as him after the presentation of his book by the same reason. A complete unexplained excess.

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Forgive me, my blog

I know this has happened before. I understand your anger, do not want clichés pretextarte . In the previous post I tried to leave with a chistorete, never wanted to see the rough start and then, of course. Icebreakers say.

This relationship has undergone many ups and downs , know better than I . Our home was splendid but "like any love, the first month was good"-Mecano dixit -. Sometimes he did not know or what postearte not provide which will be your reaction. Every time I find it harder communicate work through you. Routine, routine damn, these urges that I got to learn something new, a change of scenery away from you to understand what was happening to us. The exciting news.

Well, bluntly. I'm unfaithful. Very unfaithful. VERY-VERY-UNFAITHFUL.

is younger than you.
is more popular than you.
is less complicated than you.
not require me just like you.
understand you can not spend much time with him, but I went away, still in chaos and without fijón . Moreover

easy be with him. It is a place coquetón and witty . It makes me laugh continuously of each occurrence. It is also extremely agile, fearless, learns very quickly to any event or banal gossip. You realize that what stands out here is its lightness. I'm not committed or trapped, only amuse me. BUT

.

He's not you, dear blog.

He does not understand me.
He does not delve too.
He is immature. He is hyperactive
, I can not keep up, or the grandeur of his genius graciosón .
He does not help for the relief effort or reflection turncoat who used to have with you.

Yes, I see almost every day. Knows many things from my daily existence. But what does?, Are nonsense without further plaintive introspection. De little game ratitos as is fine, but for something serious just love you. A TI.

He is a free . You are the love of my life virtually. Forgive

, I really want this to work, I'm willing to put everything on my part. I know I told you before, but this time it is serious. I do not want to be without you, I do really need. Want everything to be as before. I went but I did not go at all, I think of you every day. Write a post was like playing heaven. When I'm with him is your template that I guess. Your comments are most passionate and intense than their short and ephemeral replies.

Would appreciate my sincerity?. I know it has been difficult for you. But what we have is worth, try to understand, I was caught between pressure so that if the work, if my regular lashes, I reacted badly. This is a long and difficult to maintain, but much more satisfactory . You gave me joy irreplaceable. The funny thing is that if not for you I would not have met him: Twitter .

being sincere And yet, I will reveal everything. There is another by there also made me eyes time, become more than a year. He is very handsome, so-called good family. Strawberry. But ... it taaaaaaaaaan estupidín . He keeps wasting time on nonsense. Is very shallow, cares enough appearance. Seems a little hollow . I like to see from time to time and use it for show, or drool, or procrastinate. That do not worry, he's nobody special, maybe just is fashionable. Facebook I lose sleep and start me sighs like you did.

I love you. ---------------------------------------

(Mere really want bigamous be virtual, but do not tell the blog, I'm Chorando a slight, you know how it is.)

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Contractures and Winter festivals.

Today begins the winter. That is very important to me. The seasons are very important to me. Because today, the earth, who day by day farther and farther away from the sun, making the clean and jerk, and as driven by a slingshot (or slingshot , as is said) it shoots to the same point in its orbit. Today is one of the two points turning of the year, the place where the pendulum stops to be dropped from where it left before uploading. Today, time stops, the earth also, to get to think for a split second, where to go.
Today is the longest night of the year. The six (it is six and a quarter) it was night, and I was surprised. When night falls me sad. Last year I was sad, because on 21 June, this time I was preparing for the expected and feared premiere of "Art body." The challenge became the longest night of the year at a real turning point, not only by factors purely physical, but for the fact my first brand new play, which was strongly and passionately committed. Today, nostalgia is twofold, because " Art body" has completed on 12 June, and I have twice as melancholy.
However, while the night is hard today is that tomorrow I'll feel better. I'll wake up happy, after the change of land management.
Because winter arrives and with it the promise fatal (fatal because inevitable) that from now on, we can always hope, days getting longer, for six months.
why I like winter. Because it is the best promise of soon becoming spring. Sun

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Mónica Núñez Cortés.

little or nothing Mónica Núñez Cortés . I know my mom was rehearsing a play with it at the time, and for some reason I stayed long at home. I had the memory of my mom left me there and go, but she said that in fact, rehearsed at the home of Monica, so I stayed with her daughter in a room or room in the house, waiting for end.

At the time, I charmed a huge grand piano that was in the living (or what I thought was the living ). It was a very big house, and mine too girl, one of the reasons why I could never have a piano, in addition to the economic question that always lurked like a shadow at the house of Bulnes after the separation of my parents. My parents took some rebuild financially after divorce. The reality is that I always wanted a piano, and every time I saw one in someone's house, my heart was moved to infinity. I used to look at it sideways all the time, was fascinated by the instrument, that I was untouchable, first because all piano owners are jealous of him, and second, because he thought he could get no sound good, far from it.

So Mónica Núñez Cortés had a grand piano at home. The daughter seemed to me, frankly, lucky girl more the world, with that pianote at home. In fact, it seems to me that was a grand piano, but there was not. For there was an ordinary piano. And twist things enough that I remember, so you can imagine with what I do not remember so well.

also remember that she was in her room computer, or if it was his room, at least it was the piece that let us. And he showed me a superb game: Carmen San Diego. I could not stop playing it. In memory it seems to me, I think, that my presence is upsetting the daughter of Monica. Do not know if it was bigger than me, or what happened, but I remember me slightly grumpy. Probably my fascination with the house to her it was heavy, and she saw nothing extraordinary in what I had and had had since forever. Not that it much, but for me it was. That piano, and was the world to me.

also knew it was the sister of Leluthier the same name, a man escapades, I always like and I like the Les Luthiers .

And nothing else. Who was a friend of my mom. That was an actress, and that was lucky. And I remember his name, had it fixed in my mind, who knows why strange reason.

Today I open a mail the Celcit often sent each day by all team members yahoo. It turns out that for years have not opened one of those mails. Do not open it, ever. The month I stopped reading them to me began to rule. But this I open it, without any explanation. In the mail says

De Ernesto Michel (Buenos Aires, Argentina): Our farewell to Monica Cortes Nuñez

WHY DO THE GOOD DIE? IF THERE ARE SO MANY CHILDREN OF HOOKER

ADIOS NUNEZ MONICA CORTES

And I can not believe. I can not believe I open a mail never open, never ever open it, and when I open it I find this message. And I remember his name. And home. And his daughter. And the brother I Luthier. And remember that at one point, my mother rehearsed plays, and I remember how much passion I had for the piano, being so small. And I'm sad. I'm sad beyond words. Because I met this woman. Because I liked. Because I was at home, and is now dead. And it was older than my mom, I think. And I think of her daughter. What will become of her daughter. Search For internet. In The Nation, says he died after a long illness. I read the articles. It's a dead actress. And I'm an actress too.

page In cinenacional says the date of death: May 21, 2009. Last Thursday. And I wonder if I will do the same, a whole life, and then listed as born a ... 1983 and died ... of ... and be it. Being an entity between two dates in the Western calendar. Being a beginning and an end, in an internet page . And the matches. Died the same day he died so and so (in the page says). Died the same day he was born so and so. And life is small between these two dates as a thin copper line.

And I can not avoid identification because it is an actress like me. I became an actress and then I see it as a background, I knew before I knew that my destiny was on stage, and now she is dead, and at some point (maybe soon, maybe not) I is also . I chose the profession of that woman, that woman who is now among Celcit messages.

during my childhood I met some women actresses, to whom he would follow, without realizing it. My music teacher in elementary school, Maria Nidia, was an actress of telenovelas (and still remain so ) and I did not know. I met her recently, and talked about our projects, and compendium suddenly we were colleagues, I was a colleague of my music teacher in the primary. And a very loud thread binds me to these women actresses, these first glimpses of actresses in my life, those who drank unconsciously.

So Monica: You are perpetrated in my memory. Ephemeral, it will last as long as I live, and inaccurate, of course, because I did not go over your house three or four times and was very young. But you have charted a path that others continue, because we are colleagues and the profession unites us.

were so clear in my memory, and I had not realized it. I remember thin and curly and happy. Over there you were so, why not. Over there you can not imagine that this shy girl, the daughter of your friend and companion essay, follow your steps, with a conviction undisturbed.

Like our ancestors, we, the living, we take your gun, and killed all the actresses who have lived and survived to today we continue living and surviving.

Chance willed that I learned of your death. Chance, fate, wanted me to open the mail , I can not help but think that is a message from heaven, the Gods, whoever, and they called me thinking, and that reminds me once again then not much left of me, a tombstone, or none at all, and a few texts that do not say even 10% of what was my life. Archaeological fossils of my passage through this world, a poor reconstruction of something that will inevitably be forgotten.

must be hard to let go, Monica. Good for you .

A heartfelt goodbye, and wish you strongly, strongly, that peace rest.

Anne's daughter

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Eyes.

Occasionally I think back to my grandmother Catherine. Catalina is a beautiful name. In my father's house, there is a picture of her with those eyes that are my eyes almost, dominant genes are spread throughout the family. The eyes of my grandmother Catherine are full of strength, I think, I convey strength and confidence, there is no suspicion, seem to say "yes" to everything.
Nov. 29 Panchito nation, my brother. Is of course the same fatality of an eye. The eyes of my brother, who are the eyes of my father, but were reborn, I look inexplicable from the arms of his mother. Panchito shakes his legs and arms in all directions. Has great strength, I get the feeling that it will run just to walk, to take over the world with both hands.
The day I was born, she told me Mom, I raised my little body hands, face down, to rest your head on the other side. Some of that force has Panchito. My dad is strong, straightforward, things he wanted to have them. It makes me think that my parents know them fixed. It is as if his persistence gave me confidence.
My mom is also strong. Russian Corps (50 percent). We have the same chest. Sometimes I
impressive to think that behind me, there is an endless chain of women, coming from who knows where. Men and women who sustain my existence. Whose life force has been handed me, wanting to move forward, to transcend, cloning into infinity. Because being alive is something. Many people before me, remained very much alive, that I may now be here. And so I keep me here, alive, to honor them.
On January 7, my grandmother died last Mery. I was impressed to see the light of noon entered the room. Was purple, faded, bruised, or agglomerations of blood, who knows. It was not makeup or anything. was so dead. I could not touch. Unlike other times, I felt that would bite me if I approached. The nurses beat them. And to raise it to bed had to grab three. And he was thin, thin , and with those bones that are my bones, (the same) hard grueling, pounding, hurting. "And how scratching!" told his roommate, and there seemed to speak of a woman of 95 years, I talked like a tiger.
My grandmother was always fat, but he died thin. And I could not touch it, because his neck and his collarbone there in bed, were identical to my neck and collarbone, and my mom. He had never been thin, and did not know how we looked physically. And seeing her like this, burst of life, violet and red, I referred to a possible end to mine.
Because we have a strong body of women who live long, and that's not always good. Not if you can no longer walk, or he pulls enyl s imminent. Track elapsed time as he looks out the window.
Sometimes I think that's old I'll go crazy. Not by choice, a disease or something. A alzeimer rampant sclerosis. Twentieth century diseases , post-penicillin.
Well, what a depressing post. Could it be that today we had 10 people body only Art and came with that weight?
But it gives me hope knowing that the eyes of my grandmother Catherine kept burning until the last minute. The penalties and the bad times could not take your sense of humor.
sense of humor has saved me many times has saved me many things. Something deep inside me, protected me as a small white light-white , you always know that despite all the winters of the world, always waiting, latent and demonic, a spring.