HISTORIA TRISTE.

Homesick is what this song inspires me. since the first time I listen to it, the bass line, the hard voice and the tough lyrics, made me shake, made me feel as the title says sad, it was released several years ago and I hear it for the very first time when I was traveling around the south about seventeen years ago, while waiting for a bus in a distant point of Chiapas, some exotic folks arrived next to us to do the same and we began to speak, they told us they were from Spain, as we had to wait together we talked about a lot of things, but one remains in my mind Music and books, and they share with us some tapes they were carrying with them from Spain. Into all of those tapes, thanks to them I knew Eskorbuto, and a song that moves deep fibers in my mind at those days,(and still)is the one that I toke the name for this entry. Several years I preserve those tapes with me. And suddenly something happen and I forget myself about that song, for years it remained in my subconscious mind, I think, and one day the bass line hits me in the forehead, reminding me that sick lyrics, the rage, the frustration, the fucked up situation of those far an lost eighties, I grew up.

AS I WENT OUT ONE MORNING..

One day like this several years ago, I leave my parents home after a big discussion about my future, I decided (alone) to follow my will, leaving behind all, with a backpack with two books and a change of clothes, wearing my only shoe pair, (I still got them with me) with 100 bucks on my pocket, with the only conviction of leave that place on that moment, I fly away losing myself in the crowd, just wishing to begin my life (alone) I won't lie, those were hard times, better times. Eating less, traveling more, and working hard living for the day and chasing the dreams I figure those days, a time to remember more than to forget, imprescindible part of my non-formal education was that period of time. That I love so much. sometimes when I look back, I feel homesick for those days. But I lived that in the right time of my life.

the end.

Oh, I miss so much those days of the fall when we were anxious and all excited about the book fair in town, far before of the new fancy FIL , just before it became in the monster it is now, full of wanna be’s or hormone-stink-students, and other strange creatures that you can see there, far away are those days of joy, the ones when you could find rare books, ended editions, and the best: on good prices, now all you see is the novelties in hard covers and in most of the cases expensiver than the regular retail price at your local bookstore, I used to love at first alone, from ten years to now with my wife, but this year is my last, I left behind all my memories of love and fascination og those cult objects that you used to find there, Books, I decide to end my suffering in the place that I used to call: “the real Christmas for me”, I can’t
stand anymore all the crowds that converges in there, just for be seen or to see, I will miss a lot some of the stands, some of them grow as I do all these years, I will miss too some of them that has just left us, giving place to a scary growing “catho” stands, it is going to be hard not to assist, I will miss the cultural concerts in the ex-open inning surface, that every year becomes smaller for the regular people, I will miss the tiny editorials that gives me so many satisfactions with the jewels they put in my hands, but really I can tell

A hazy shade of winter.

when was the last time you walked in the street and stopped to just watch a beautiful flower growing in the sidewalk end, fighting to survive in the concrete?, and do you remember the last time you traveled without your earphones? When was the last time you spent more that an hour reading a book, enjoying by a cup of coffee the words drinking them whit a humming strong beverage? Are those days over for you? Or even worst, you do not know those things, the phrase: -``I have my books surcease of knowledge and sorrow´´- doesn’t sound for you at all? , if you never walk and enjoy the walk do it now, I miss those days when I walked from my work to home, no cell phone no iPod, not gizmos at all to carry (and to worry about) , just a book to read on my free times, making me forget for sometimes the place or the things I was doing before I began to read it.
Now I barely walk and when I do it barely I see a flower in the sidewalk or even a plant. Time, time, time that goes by, now everytime I get from aplace to another I have to carry a cell phone (to stay in touch) but I leave it from time to time to fell the old days when I got no need of one, and I travel with a book as only luggage. It`s okay if yiu don`t like these things but once in your life I recommend you to try one of these things, but if you didn`t try young now you`re done.

I believe in miracles..

I enjoy to read the Sunday newspapers, with a cup of coffee, as early as I can, sited by the window, sometimes with music others just listening the paper moving in my hands, skipping the sports and the shows news, enjoying the extended sections of opinions and some writers that on the Sunday edition figures a column. I can’t remember since when I do this, but I know that while I can I will be doing it. Recently I get more sad when I read the news, I have to admit that now the cultural section is becoming a few small every week in the newspapers I read, and the bad news are growing in quantity, the world is changing, the way we see the things too. I know that the times we are living aren`t the best ones, and I have to admit that sometimes I get sad and scared of the things I read, it will sound kind of stupid but it is true, the ability to read can put you in a bad mood, but when that happens, I get a fantasy book (that I love by the way) and after some pages, I can believe that the world we live in still worth!!

WILD WORLD

There was a time, when I was a broken hearted, and i didn't care about it for me was more important other things, the books, the music and things like that, now I am older and slower that in those times, I read more, drink less as a natural result of the life, I have to worry about other stuff that on those wonderful years, I didn't even realize that they do exist, and I am not complaining about it, I’m just making a point, life has changed so much and so fast that sometimes I try to take a break to see how much has it changed, the extremely rare turns that it gives, the life and all the things we left behind, the music, the friends, the projects, the dreams we quit to pursuit, the things we have to do, to work in to get the money we need to live with a minimum of dignity, I am al lucky man, (all my life I have been) but I see how a lot of Rockies are losing the patience because they can’t reach the minimum of comfort in a work to stay on it, or at least a work, the times are hard and the situation in the whole world is getting worst and worst every time, good luck, was the first thing I achieve to say the other day I talk to a little audience in a lecture of the dentistry school, because I was there as they were that day in another circumstances, on other times better ones, the ones when you used to tell your dreams and they will be come true, now this generations got only dreams, and that’s all they got…… it’s a wild world, and not a good one to dream on.

the ghosts.

Sometimes the ghosts of our past comes to chase us, reminding us that we’re not alone In the nights, that in the precise moment we put some ice in a glass, to serve a drink, the ghost come out to chase us, and in some cases to torture , In most of the cases to remind what we left behind, what we use to do, coming from the darkness gathering the memories of past times, sometimes better others not so much, in my case the music also trigger the ghosts; of the worst and the better times I’ve gotten in life, but in all cases they chase me. There’s nothing to fear, they come to remind us who we are and who we was, and to teach us lessons. That’s why I write to exorcise these ghost, the ghost of the things, of the people I left behind.