Elle

Elle n’était pas née, je la rêvais.

Elle n’est rien de ce que je cherchais, mais en elle j’ai tout trouvé.

Quand elle sourit tout l’endroit s’illumine.

Quand tu la regardes, elle sourit, et vous savez immédiatement que vous êtes perdu.

Elle a la plus grande passion et son énergie te peut hérisser la peau.

Elle danse et tu soupires, tu souhaites danser avec elle, flotter sur la piste avec elle, à proximité.

C’est impossible de savoir combien de temps a passé quand elle t’embrasse. Elle règne dans le temps, et tu temps s’arrête dans ses bras.

Dans cinq minutes elle peut changer votre vie. Pour toujours! Et vous ne voudrez plus jamais revenir à votre vie antérieure.

Elle est la paix.

Elle est une tempête.

Elle est un ouragan imparable.

Elle est un paysage incroyable.

Elle n’est pas facile de découvrir, mais un trésor jamais l’est.

Si elle te fait confiance, tout son monde est à vous.

Si vous n’êtes pas honnête avec elle, vous serez laissé sans monde.

Elle est humaine.

Elle a un cœur qui bat fort et qui aspire énormément à tout découvrir.

Elle a un corps de rêve, et elle veut rêvasser avec lui.

Elle est la vie et nourrit la tienne.

Elle a un nom de couleur et donne de la couleur a mes jours.

Elle me rend plus heureux.

Il n’y a personne comme elle.

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I’m broken

Always been.

Looking as far back as my memory can take me, there are lots of blue moments that marked my young self early years.

The situation didn’t improve much as I grew up. Tons of crappy teenager moments. Isolation, solitude, rejection, mockery, physical beating… I got them all, repeatedly.

I always kept it shut. Sealed them inside and used them to fuel myself towards the impossible. It turns out that, when you have this much fire inside, the impossible is not that impossible after all.

Just at the moment I believed I left it all behind, a new, unknown, hard to trace, threat was taking grip of my peace of mind. My heart and mind was further broken into tiny pieces. Probably some of them were lost. My confidence was taken away from me, obliterated by the constant criticism from the one I blindly trusted myself to. The closest person to me.

The beauty of this story is that I had every reason to be an outcast. Every reason to let the fire devour me and give in to its seductive power of rage and anger. Every reason to pay them back with the same quarter. Yet I didn’t.

Up to this day, every hurtful experience has further shaped myself into this forgiving resilient passionate loving rightful strong happy individual you can talk to everyday to get a fresh smile from and a curious point of view.

I think that what I’m trying to say, here, is that we all have a choice. It’s never about our circumstances, and always about who we decide to be.

Who you want to be?

… Take your time!

Grow past your self… And be you!


Vivir

No se trata más de las cosas que tengas, que de las cosas que atesores.

Momentos, miradas, suspiros. Por efímeros que parezcan al momento que ansiamos revivirlos, son instantes eternos que quedaron grabados en nuestro ser. Un calor en el pecho, una cosquilla en los labios… Síntomas de que, así sea por una fracción de segundo, produjimos y recibimos al mismo tiempo un Big Bang de máxima felicidad!

Esos momentos en los que das el TODO. Todo lo que tienes, todo lo que eres, sin reservas, tu alma en terciopelo. Cuando tiemblas de emoción, y de miedo, y de alegría! Por el gusto de permitirte expresarte al máximo, sin censura, puro y brutal! Como tu mente, como tu cuerpo, como tu yo, como tuyo y como mío!

Caer a la cama, hundido en chispazos de plenitud. Y sonreír, en silencio, boyante, feliz, audaz. Con el saber del buen hacer. Con el sabor del buen querer. Con la alegría de no temer ser. Con la satisfacción de una lágrima, de felicidad, sentir caer.

Darlo todo sin esperar nada, y sonreír. Y aún si la vida decidiera que nada has de recibir, tener la acertada picardía para enseñarle a la vida como se debe vivir.


Shit, man!

I take a lot of shit. I always do. Most likely, I’ve also taken shit from you.

Don’t worry, it’s ok.

I know my ways are particular, and I’m true to the path I’ve chosen. I hate for the shit to spread and reach the little untainted places, hearts, left.

I’ve also been part of that shit. I’ve lied, hurt, and stained the very thing I live to protect.

I feel it’s like a way to redeem myself for the pain I’ve caused. Even though I know it won’t change a thing for those I mistreated. To prevent others fron hurting people the same way I did. To help others understand the kind of pain they’re being inflicted and help them cut the cycle.

I have to admit it’s a very difficult choice. The choice of not fighting back. The choice of actively identifying opportunities to make a difference on someone else’s life. It’s exhausting.

It’s infinitely rewarding too!

Most of the time I get to see those grateful eyes that tell me it’s worth it. Sometimes I get such a battery recharging hug, that puts me back together for another set of rounds. Other times I get radio silence and forever unread messages. Even then, I end up feeling it was for a greater good.

However, there’s a part of it I haven’t figured out… Will I ever fill up? What happens if I get to a point in which I feel that I can’t take it anymore?

I mean, I never ask for anything in return. Not for this, not for treating people well. Not for anything. But, hell, I wish for sometimes to be surprised! To receive those little sparks of the universe that makes you feel lucky and fortunate and cherish even more what you do, the joy of being alive! Those things create more room for taking more shit in, and continue my selfish crusade.

If I fill to capacity, will I explode or will I implode? Will it be a big bang, or a quiet swoosh? Will someone hold me or would I ought to rebuild myself from scratch?

Perhaps I really don’t want to know.

Hope we don’t ever figure out.

Have a great day!


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Back in the saddle

Is your environment, or is yourself who determine your lifestyle?

How much would your lifestyle change if you were placed halfway around the world and be told to be yourself?

These are the questions fiddling in my head in the past days.

I had forgotten how different I used to be. How much I love the things I used to do. How much I love me, when I’m being me.

It’s so easy to fall sleep in the train of routine and become an spectator of your own life.

I have to thank a remote city for waking me up from my comfort and reminding me what’s being alive! Having a heart that pumps salsa and lungs that breathe bachata is a gift I will not let die!

It’s good to be back!


The end of this chapter

I gave you my time
I gave you my whole life
I gave you my love, every dime
They told me it was… a crime
– Sonata Arctica – The End of This Chapter.

My dear Venezuela, what have we done to you?

How have we allowed for this evil to change you into this place where I don’t feel I belong anymore?

It’s sad to see how we, brothers and sisters, have hurt each other in the name of others that just care about what they can take from us, without giving other than breadcrumbs in return. We allowed this. We empowered this.

We are known for being one of the happiest people in the world, but that is just because we live in a constant denial. Denial that turns into laughter in order to cope with the pain of seeing injustice, hate, crime, lies, power abuse, performed in front of our eyes, by and against our own family. We are a family.

By making fun of politics, robbery, hospital crisis, murder, we have built a safe bubble of lies. We live in an idiotic version of the reality, in which we repeat ourselves that things are going to be fine, whilst we are handing our mobile with a gun against the back of your head.

Things ARE NOT going to be fine unless WE MAKE things fine.

There are tons of ways to fight, maybe you haven’t found out which is the one for you. Maybe you do know and you expect others to do it in your place. It’s OK, but please, don’t complain.

I have tried many different ways to fight throughout the years. I’m definitely not a front-liner, at least, not in the traditional way. I’m better as a support or strategical officer, or even as a resource provider. I’m also good at talking to people, and setting the spark that ignite hearts willing to take action. That is my way.

But now, let’s set things straight. I am NOT willing to sacrifice my youth to a place so twisted that I don’t even want for my future children to live at.

Even though I’m sure that the most beautiful places and people ARE in this land, this beautiful people has grown the seed of hate and greed to a level so toxic that is killing all the beauty around.

Damn…

I mean, shit! This is an earthbound paradise! And we are sucking the life out of it and, in response, it will suck the life out of us too. It’s the nature’s way.

I’m sorry my beloved Venezuela. I don’t know you anymore.

You can rest assured that your name is carved in my heart with tricolour ink and seven white stars. My promise is to carry your name as high as my arms, legs and wings can reach. To do my best to clean your name and for the truth to be known outside your walls. An ambassador of your beauty. An storyteller of your greatness. A voice that can be heard when you are unable to speak.

But for now is my time to leave.

The countdown is set to 27 days. The schedule is tight, but I’ll make sure to carry with me the greatest amounts of memories my heart can carry, so I can fondly remember you. Your faces, your places.

Maybe you wonder why I didn’t chose Spanish for this words. I’ll tell you. Using my mother language to say goodbye to her is just as cruel as feeding bacon covered sausages to a baby pork.

Thank you, Venezuela.

You’ve made me the person I am today, and I’ll look forward to be able to shape you, somehow, someday.

[7 Stars Venezuelan Flag]