Prayer

I have the right to be wrong and to be corrected. That's what Mazeta told me. Even though I don't see the effects of that right very well but, I believe he can give me that compassion of judgment. It's like a prayer to better understand that life is more livable, being small than seeking to be right or in control. Lately, I've been hurt and beaten. But it's also part of the game. I have a right to be wrong and to be corrected. It is a lesson and a mantra.

Mirror

There is a strange game where you can look through a copper mirror at an image of yourself from the past. and you can ask him what you would change about your life. This game was bought by the Mosca in a store of carnivorous plants and ventriloquist's dummies. Nobody wanted to play it, except me.

I looked at that reflection, which returned a very strange image of me that I didn't remember, and I asked him questions, thinking if it would help me find a meaning in the middle of the warm night of the soul. Superstitions, flowers.  He told me to ask about white roses arriving in the daytime; there I could tell better how fresh the arrivals were. I did not understand him, and he told me, very simply, it is only one way that everyone travels: exile and communication. What is your way?

And I kept thinking in a badly drawn circle that got lost. I only felt then that the mirror's answer; maybe it had to do with saying more about what I feel. even if that was not to the liking of many. I keep thinking about those answers.

Prosecution

I got a call from Nana; she was in pain because the loss of her dad had led her to think she didn't do enough for him. She told me she suspected medical malpractice. I just listened. But in essence, I could understand the tepid place of justice from where she was speaking to me. She was in pent-up rage, and so she seeks revenge, made up for doing what is right. I listened to her and told her that she has a free choice to make, but there is something complex and ineffective in her requests. but she is free. I thought, as is anyone who decides to take a poison, thinking that it will save her past.

I listened to her for a while longer, giving her what little empathy I could have for practice. and wished her good night.

What I thought was harder, but I don't intend to tell her. There is no need for so much cruelty, but this thought of justice that she has is a compensation for not dealing with the dismal of not having loved him so much in the last times of his life, maybe even of feeling overwhelmed to take care of the physical discomfort that illness and old age produce for so many months. Who can blame her? It's complicated, I know. But I also understand that there is an internal process for some in the matter of forgiving, letting go, and learning. I had a connection with what I experienced some years ago with my dad too, but I didn't seek revenge. Maybe because deep down I felt that he was liberated. He was always strong, and now he was strong in the immensity of the cosmos. As light and strength, he could travel to the pillars of creation.

What do I know? It is complex to lose the one who loved and cared for you. It is hard to grow up, and what is harder is to see those who were by your side die. Life is never the same again, and that is the purpose. You learn to see without certain colors and sounds the new life as you take your turn. qepd mr.  Long live and prosper. 

dust morte

I have this escape route. It's like a metropolitan road, very sweet, very fast, full of building lights and motorized neon headlights. In this road I can forget about everything. How much there is rejection in my simple life, how much some people hate me. A place where I can let myself go down the slope of anomie, inaction, and sleep snoring, to cut myself off from thinking about how much it hurts. And maybe, if I manage to screw up enough to not sink or implode in the process... if I end up broken, then I won't be your favorite toy anymore, or your memory of unspeakable nights. And so, maybe they'll let me be free.

Cramp

I'll tell you what happened to me: I swam a lot, two hours, four kilometers, with strength and without stopping. It was a relief. When I was about to finish my last km, something ugly happened to me. I already felt the fatigue, but I ignored it, and I paid for it. In the middle of the pool, I got a very intense cramp. on both legs, foot and calves, with a whiplash. 

I stayed there, and I had to ask the lifeguard for help. But I remembered two things: I know how to dive, and I know how to swim.

Then, I accepted that I was going to sink because of my paralyzed legs, and I took a deep breath and sank as if diving. and down there, I waited a couple of minutes in the silence and calm blue until I could regain some strength in my legs, and I surfaced towards the buoys line and approached in breaststroke to the starting edge. and there I waited for that muscle whiplash to pass me.

I tell you GF, because I think it was a lesson. Maybe it comes from my mom. Life is like that, like today and before. It will cramp me, paralyze me, and make me sink. But thanks to you, I have skills (like knowing how to dive or swim), and I must be calm, because in tranquility, I will survive and come out eventually. like I did today.

Tonight I am sad, very sad; there is also anger and even shame. but it is part of the process. Right now, I have the pain in my legs because it is one of those cramps that leave you feeling for several hours. but I have been able to finish swimming, walking, bathing, wrapping up, etc., so the pain is part of the game. We knew what could happen for her. and it happened.

GF: Aquí, noto que surge mucha admiración hacia tu fortaleza y estoy muy orgullosa como navegas en estos mares. Gracias por eso.