The Truth Behind These Words

I have made many mistakes in my life. I have taken many risks. I have taken steps when the path wasn't necessarily clear, and I have gotten into cars with strangers. And I feel that life has only rewarded me for it.

Every mistake has become a lesson learned. Every risk proved my fear inutile. Paths have laid themselves out for me, and is it not strangers who eventually become our friends?

I write this blog to share my experiences and my thoughts. I try to keep it short because we're all busy people, with busy lives and busy friends. Hell, I'm even a bit busy from time to time. But regardless of the time that does inherently slip by, this blog is my way of reminding myself that life's not for nothing.

Life's moments and experiences, good and bad, are worth sharing. Amazing the number of people on this earth, and each of their individual stories... mine is but one. And just like every other one, it is unique, and so I choose to pop in from time to time, and put in my two cents.

These past two months since I last posted have been filled with joy and discovery; I have met my future husband, a wonderful man with whom I cannot wait to spend the rest of my days, and am due to marry in exactly one month.

The name will change but the person will not. Life is what it is, and I will always want to tell about it. So I extend my gratitude to those of you who have been following along with me this past year; your company is well appreciated.

I will make an effort to post again on a bit more of a regular basis; even once a week is better than every two months... so until I post again, enjoy the summer -rainy, hot or dry as it may be- and don't forget to embrace life once a day. Does a body good.

;)

Oops

How?

How has it been two months since my last post? I remember writing it like it was just yesterday...

I wonder, what does that then say about the time since then?

It is time lost? wasted? spent? Ha. No.

Far from it.

We are all on drugs

It’s halfway through 2009. The world is in a state of financial crisis. There is a health epidemic spreading from Mexico that has every country up in arms. The global climate is worsening everyday as the environment’s final hours are ignored. And we are all on drugs; and then we ask ourselves why.

We live in societies that have maintained their strict rules over centuries, despite the changing times. We are raised in families whose traditions are outdated by the now daily new technologies that alter and supposedly ameliorate our existences. We’re bombarded by a mass media that is controlled by people who have their own agendas. And war brims on all horizons.

So pick your poison.

You can drink. You can go to a doctor and get a prescription for something that will come in a little orange bottle with a childproof cap. Or you can just go to the pharmacy and get pills that’ll help you sleep it all away.

You can also smoke a joint, snort some yeyo, or shoot some smack. There’s also always crack, fake sugar, and coffee.

Who’s not dosed with something?

The question of why is almost rhetoric. We know why.

We work hard (in life, love, and everything else) and most of us see very little in reward.

The world has become depressing. So we need every little thing we can find to put a smile on our faces or at the very least to ease our soul a little bit.

It is a hard thing to be sober in this already sobering existence.

Rain rain go away

The room isn't filled with sunlight, but there is still light. The kind of filtered light that reaches a room after passing through thick clouds and millions of raindrops.

The air is chilly and there is no sound save for the pitter-patter on the windows.

Hard to tell that it's springtime in Paris.

Or is it?

The old man in the subway

Everyday I take the same metro to work, from the same stop to the same stop. I ride the same car, at the same time, and not once have I ever seen the same face. Except for the old man in the subway.

He sits on the steps of the station I exit out of. Everyday he wears the same beige pants, the same tweed jacket, the same blood-red scarf, and the same bowler's cap. And they are always pristine.

Sometimes I think that he's just a normal guy, sitting on the steps to take a break from his day. But then I notice the little pan by his side for people's spare change.

I always want to give him something, but I rarely have anything to give. Except for today.

I saw him from a distance and instantly reached into my purse. I pulled out my wallet and from it I withdrew a 2 euro coin. I held it in my hand as I approached him, and politely bent down to put it in his change pan once I reached him. I looked up to his face, and he just stared at the ground, oblivious to the fact that I was there, or that I had just placed 2 euros into his pan that had only up until then held 30 centimes.

I wanted to give him a hug.

But I didn't. I just stood up, and headed up the stairs...

Several hours later, he was gone. I looked for him around the station, but he was nowhere to be found. I wonder how the rest of his day went. I wonder if he got himself something good to eat, perhaps drink. I wonder if I made any difference in his day...

Men

you are such strange creatures
i can never tell if you're for real or not
i ignore you,
and you pursue me.
i hold out my hand,
and you turn away.
you come
and you go
and you turn into a dream.
a dream i want to realize at first,
and then you only become the faint memory of another later on.

the kind of dream that you forget.

Medellin

You stood there and looked at me
as I looked out at you.
Your beauty mesmerized me.
Your pain touched me.
Your history pulled me in
and your rains flooded me out.
Your life I felt in my veins.
Your world I was a part of.

But now you're there,
and I'm here.

Until I close my eyes.
And the two then meet in the middle.

And that's good enough for now...