This is as far as it goes.

It was a good trip. But given that no one ever checks Blogger anymore, I will publish things only in Tumblr.

Stay stunned, children.

stealthwritter.tumblr.com

The old good seaside.

Definitivamente el estómago es el músculo de las emociones.


The street was crowded, but he knew that where he was heading to, there was no people. He had no money for the bus nor the will to travel by it. He headed to a hidden ladder which is invisible for everybody but for the tourists and the melancolic. He had a former strange feeling in his stomach, but now this feeling was more than common to him. He kept putting one foot after the other until he reached the seaside. "This is tough" he mumbled as the looked to the horizon. Indeed, the situation was tough, but necessary. He feels like if a part of his chest had been missing since that day. He was feeling quite good in general, since that day, he forgot about his own so-called issues... he only wished that had happened long before and without the need of getting to this... but of course, it now seems this was more than necessary. He had understood key things that maybe wouldn't have internalized until he went through this. He thanked life for everything he had lived with her. He was happy, somehow. He had no hopes about the future, not even a little one.

He was grateful. Such a legendary pain just cannot go by and never teach you something. He is going to take care of the whole situation, he's going to cope with it. If he just keeps going on, tanking- holding on just like has always done- this feeling, nothing but something good is going to come out.
"There's no need to say anything else, she knows it by heart, I'm sure of it." he said, as a conclusion.

He kept going on until he finally got to the bus he did had money for.

Once upon...

He was wandering why he never came to that place before. He was amazed by the beautiful colors, the fresh smell of the flowers and the sea. He jumped over the fence and walked towards the edge. He stood there and breathed the air, felt it, hugged it, and he asked one simple thing, something easy to do for the universe and Cosmic Conciousness at least. It was Monday. It was cold. It was his day, this doesn't mean he had only this day, but that he had finally understood that every single day just belonged to him as this is his life.

Despite being sorrounded by bystanders, he lifted his arms and opened them wide open. In a moment, the was no daylight, there was no signs that this new, dark-coloured environment that appeared out of the blue was actually real or not. He felt the air going though his fingers, but he just didn't have the power to do anything, his body was moving by itself. Then the air thickened and his body began to move against his will.

The rocks nearby glanced at him, like recalling something they had seen before, a thousand times.
He wanted to run away and his mind, strangely enough, was prepared to accept the fate as it comes.

Now.

He stands at the edge or the cliff, looking to the waves which dangeously but calmy wait for him at the bottom. The man, begins to understand the detrimental situation he was in. Putting one foot ahead the other, he starts to run and finally starts to feel the marine dew. Falling in the sea and surrounded by rocks, he starts swimming, even though he had never swam in the sea, only in pools and always watched by an angel. He heads to the rocks that couldn't be reached by the waves and goes ontop one of these. He sits and watches the whole thing: he finally realizes what he did to deserve such a fate, or better said, such a trial. He drops to the sea again, there is no way out for him if he doesn't start doing things properly. As he swims, he remembers everything he did and didn't do. He tries to recover his breath, but some seaweed trapped his foot. He goes under the water but just can't free his limb. He tries again, again, and again until the seaweed says something and lets him go. Frightened, he keeps going on even though there is no way to foretell whether he is going to go out alive o not. Finally, he glances a beach, near the place he fell from, exhausted and ravenous he rushes to the place which may give him some shelter, some, due to he knew this couldn't be the end of this trial. The approaches to the beach, but exhaustion makes him lose the strengh as he hits a a huge rock, which hurts his right leg badly. He just wants to end everything, by making his way to the only place he had left that could ever make him feel secure. He makes it to the beach and takes a moment to catch his breath. Hobbling, he starts walking again as he know the storm is after him. The sea, then, gets rough and the waves try to escape from the sea, mad at him, he falls and tries to find shelter in anything, he waits for the storm to ease and keeps going on. Finally, he gets to the slope of the hill, but the waves just keep going after him, the sea itself goes after him. The fear, not even then, made him want to give up nor to look for the easy way out. This is something he must go through: a journey for templing himself.

Life had no meaning if he couldn't do this and, more importantly: he knew he wanted to do it.

Thus, using the very last energies he had left, he tries to run, the waves play with his feet and make him stumble several times. He lost two or three teeth, but it didn't mater: he was pretty much alive and kicking.

He keeps going on until he reaches the university he studies in, and in a moment, he just gets a burst of energy and, hit as he was, bleeding and exhausted, he starts running with only one leg and his arms. This energy was love... for himself.
He eventually falls and he, about to face his demise, was happy: he gave it all. And in that particular moment, don't ask why, the sea starts retreating. He man laughs, drunk of happiness and relief and... well, the rest of the story is going to be told as it unfolds... hope ye are here to listen to it, boys.  

Abstract

It has been quite a while since the last I wrote something. Quite a lot of water has gone by under the river. I have learned by heart several thing I onlye had preached about. Just like I was told, one by one I'm experiencing all those things I only could've dreamed of. But every single thing happens for a reason. Every fall is a warning and every day is something new. Now, absolutely sure of it, I know I'm still learning. In a particular moment I started to think that I had all the answers, it may sound impossible, yet, when you actually successfully shrink your own personal space, it can be done. But that is not how things are supposed to make you grow. Age is nothing. I got obsessed with my age at a particular point, it was because whether I was too childish to see things as they really were or because I thought I had all the answers... the questions, however, got changed. Everything is different now, everything is, in a twisted way, something new. Learning how to cope with this is, in effect, the most difficult thing I have faced until now. I'm not saying I'm not able to do it, I'll stress this, I have to, so I will. I'll be my own superhero... the latter may sound odd, but, I never thought this. Becoming one's hero should be taught at school, we should tell that to our kids. I'm up to several things, I'm spending as much time as I can with myself, not by myself. How much suffering I had to go through in order to say something like this... a process, this is.

I took this picture myself, quite good, isn't it?

Mi heroína

Siempre supiste la palabra indicada. SIempre sabes cómo reconfortarme y hacerme sentir mejor. Yo siempre he creído que eres especial, diferente. Una de esas personas que uno siente que van a tener un impacto gigantesco en la vida de uno apenas uno las conoce. Siempre me gustó la forma en la que veías tan claras las cosas con respecto a tu pasado, a cómo aprendiste a a sacar lo mejor de cada situación, incluso de las dolorosas o de las veces que te traicionaron. Siempre admiré la pasión que pones en las cosas que amas, en los dibujos, pinturas, en hacer poleras, aritos, diseños... la forma en que te sobrepusiste a esa enfermedad que te tuvo tan mal. Siempre, hasta en el momento más crítico tuviste fuerza, esperanza y ganas de salir adelante... y lo hiciste, como un jaguar que no se va a entregar al cazador y logra al fin volver a la jungla.
Luego que terminaste con eso, una experiencia terriblemente traumatizante, tuviste las agallas de salir adelante, de mantener una relación, de ver a tus papás, de perdonar a la vida por haberte hecho tan mala pasada... algo increíble.

Son todas esas cosas que yo admiro de tí, las ganas, la fuerza, la risa, la energía, el aguante y la resilencia frente a todo lo malo. Tú siempre haz sido mi heroína. He aprendido mucho de tí, y no sólo en cuanto a lo que te gusta y lo que no, sino que acerca de tus actitudes y las cosas que te apasionan. He aprendido a ver más allá, a ver a esa persona que ha vivido de todo y ha salido salir adelante... y estoy más que orgulloso de tí, de lo que haz logrado, pero aún más de lo que haz superado. Yo te amo. Yo tengo la suerte de estar contigo. He cometido errores, pero mi mayor error ha sido el dejar de regar la relación. Admito que me quedé, me dejé estar, me dormí en los laureles, pero también créeme que ya desperté y voy a recuperar todos los momentos en que debí haber hecho algo más para demostrarte mi amor, mi admiración. Eres una maestra, una gurú, un amor de persona. Es un placer ser parte de tu vida. Es un placer (y un sueño hecho realidad) el estar con la persona que uno más admira en el mundo, la persona por la cual uno siente devoción. Yo te admiro. Yo te amo.

Un día será al revés.

El sol le dio una mala pasada. Hacía calor y el ruido de la cuidad formaba una música animada, pero aún así, pésima. Él caminaba cerca de las familias rubias, flacas y altas, escupiendo el suelo y riéndose de aquella gente.

El camino era aún largo y su bolso estaba pesado. La capucha de su polerón le protegía del sol, pero era tener la nuca en llamas. La gente se refrescaba con gaseosas negras. Él solo quería que todos desaparecieran.  NO quería ser un hipócrita como ellos. No quería una felicidad basada en lo material. No quería su dinero, no quería honor, fama ni "gloria" que viniera del sucio dinero. Pero no tenía opción: o conseguía monedas o nada iba salir de acuerdo a su improvisado plan. Debía ser rápido, debía ser directo, aún cuando ni el sabía donde se dirigiría. En una calle transitada le hizo cariño a un gato que tomaba sol, se dio vuelta y volvió a andar sus pasos. En un aparador se sentó, abrochó sus zapatillas, tomó aire y entró a una tienda. En su mente todo era demasiado claro. Sabía lo que pasaría, sabía su propio bloqueo mental, pero aún así entró. Dijo lo que venía a decir, recibió la misma patética respuesta de mierda. Salió convencido de que tenía la razón en algo. Salió e no rendido. Salió y lo intentó en otro lugar donde al menos lo quisieron escuchar.

Un día las humillaciones harán que los que humillan se autoinfrinjan heridas.
Un día verán que el poco y las humillaciones son presagios de tiempos distintos.

Presión.

No presiones más de lo que puedes aguantar.
Debes saber que las bestias heridas muerden más fuerte que las sanas.

Corta más de lo necesario y tus propias venas se tornarán túneles de ajo.

La delgada línea de la reclamada "cordura" humana se dobla con facilidad.

Repito: Si tienes que cortar, no cortes más de lo estrictamente necesario.

Ese alguien es una bestia en una manta de color piel. Quizás no quieras quitarle algo más de lo físico, un primer paso, pero recuerda: las fauces de una bestia al defender su vida no avisan antes de cerrarse sobre tu carne.