Saturday, October 24, 2009
Friday, August 21, 2009
Triste Cancion de Amor
Ella existió solo en un sueño
El es un poema que el poeta nunca escribió
Y en la eternidad los dos unieron sus almas para
Darle vida a esta triste, canción de amor
A esta triste, canción de amor
Sunday, May 31, 2009
How to apply a 13-year-old song to your current life
The recent link, explained.
My life at this juncture is suspended in constant motion. The overwhelming amounts of work to be done hasn't piled up yet, but it's come close to that in the past week. The greatest fortune for me is that I love the work itself, even if it feels slightly less humane in the cubicle and button-down spectacle. Dejame ver que hay para saborear esta vuelta.
The proximity to power, in its many battling forms, really does have an effect on the outlook of life. Loco de pensar que se disputa el poder y la gloria. Sanity long considered overrated, the struggle, and again I pause to consider the adequate uses of such word, is elsewhere. This world, in its most prudent management, is designed to make us feel comfortable despite our human condition, as battles over influence, resources, and rights rage around us. Cuanta verdad, cuanta mentira y cuantas palabras, y todo este motor para devastar tu inconciente.
In that sense, I know the target audience. If nothing more, I grew up in the middle of the road. The pavement, lighting, and landscape were different. But I was right where I could call myself average, with my only slight (or perhaps most meaningful trait) was that I belonged to a religious minority. Coming to discover that the most grandiose way to tackle big issues was to speak about small matters has been ironic at best, and perhaps heart-wrenching. Esta ironía con qué se cura, si el final es en donde partí.
The symptoms are familiar. Si, esta noche no puedo dormir. And the intrinsic solutions, too.
Because with rapid intellectual advancement, and despite garnering more confidence about the mission at hand, the capabilities needed, the fast-approaching results, and the way that it all connects within the societal experiment and the individual experience, reason does not seem destined to win in all counts. El corazón, tiene razones que la propia razón nunca entenderá.
And so I carry with trepidation because I cannot understand the entirety of this moment. Nor do I understand why the direction has shifted. A year ago, I contemplated an abandonment not only from the political system, but also from certain relevant interpersonal institutions. And now I am faced with an odd moment that can be very tragic. Y a donde voy , siempre voy a buscar lo que es mío. Yet a door remains open for surprising developments.
The person at the other end of this conversation is also asking this type of question in a self-managed conversation. At some point, maybe there will be courage for a dialogue. No llores más, dáme la mano contáme tu suerte...
The lesson is to give songs (or poems, or ideas, or proverbs) a chance, even if they never made much sense to you before, or only make sense to you after.
My life at this juncture is suspended in constant motion. The overwhelming amounts of work to be done hasn't piled up yet, but it's come close to that in the past week. The greatest fortune for me is that I love the work itself, even if it feels slightly less humane in the cubicle and button-down spectacle. Dejame ver que hay para saborear esta vuelta.
The proximity to power, in its many battling forms, really does have an effect on the outlook of life. Loco de pensar que se disputa el poder y la gloria. Sanity long considered overrated, the struggle, and again I pause to consider the adequate uses of such word, is elsewhere. This world, in its most prudent management, is designed to make us feel comfortable despite our human condition, as battles over influence, resources, and rights rage around us. Cuanta verdad, cuanta mentira y cuantas palabras, y todo este motor para devastar tu inconciente.
In that sense, I know the target audience. If nothing more, I grew up in the middle of the road. The pavement, lighting, and landscape were different. But I was right where I could call myself average, with my only slight (or perhaps most meaningful trait) was that I belonged to a religious minority. Coming to discover that the most grandiose way to tackle big issues was to speak about small matters has been ironic at best, and perhaps heart-wrenching. Esta ironía con qué se cura, si el final es en donde partí.
The symptoms are familiar. Si, esta noche no puedo dormir. And the intrinsic solutions, too.
Because with rapid intellectual advancement, and despite garnering more confidence about the mission at hand, the capabilities needed, the fast-approaching results, and the way that it all connects within the societal experiment and the individual experience, reason does not seem destined to win in all counts. El corazón, tiene razones que la propia razón nunca entenderá.
And so I carry with trepidation because I cannot understand the entirety of this moment. Nor do I understand why the direction has shifted. A year ago, I contemplated an abandonment not only from the political system, but also from certain relevant interpersonal institutions. And now I am faced with an odd moment that can be very tragic. Y a donde voy , siempre voy a buscar lo que es mío. Yet a door remains open for surprising developments.
The person at the other end of this conversation is also asking this type of question in a self-managed conversation. At some point, maybe there will be courage for a dialogue. No llores más, dáme la mano contáme tu suerte...
The lesson is to give songs (or poems, or ideas, or proverbs) a chance, even if they never made much sense to you before, or only make sense to you after.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Palabras que se disputan el poder y la gloria
Y en que lugar, habrá consuelo para mi locura,
esta ironía con qué se cura
si el final es en donde partí.
Y a quién llamar a quién golpearle la puerta tan tarde,
con quien hablar cuando no hay nadie,
si esta noche no puedo dormir.
Dejame ver que hay para saborear esta vuelta,
la verdad, la mentira y la mueca de tu ingenuidad.
Cuantas palabras que se disputan el poder y la gloria
y cuantas vidas se pierden en el frío de un reino mortal.
Loco de pensar queriendo entrar en razón y el corazón,
tiene razones que la propia razón nunca entenderá
Saturday, May 09, 2009
Una vida teórica
El enamoramiento es una ilusión que poco tiene que ver con el amor; es justamente su ausencia. - Cordera
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Post-it notes
Undated, and collected with Stickies. Spanning a long period of time, a number of lovers, and a troublesome menagerie of writing inspirations. Implications abound.
Quiero ser academico, historiador, filosofo, muerto de hambre, feliz, quijotesco, padrino, soñador, amante, campestre, ciudadano, intelectual, cumbiero, traficante, sagaz, cocinero, hermano, futbolero, trabajador, escritor, atorrante, sabio, optimista, influencial, piropeador, sonriente, sorpresivo, libertador, guia, payaso, salame, tranquilo, consejero, hamburriento, abogado, carpintero, lider, humanista, politico, elegante, globalista, boyescau, cantautor, caballero andante, peluquero, tio, sobrio, desgraciado, dador alegre, intrepido, fulbolero, honrado, decisivo, campeon, medio bobo, acurrucador, simplistista, humilde, buen cabeceador, testosteronico, insolente, compasivo, buen mozo, piloto, armador, representante, honorable, maloliente, cachirulo, aventurero, parrandero, idealista, comediante, libertario, radical, senil.
Y tambien quería imaginarte junto a mi.
Pero sé, que en esta vida, no se puede ser todo lo que se quiere.
----------------
I have found the way in which I can be at peace with the Christian faith, as my intellect moves towards a higher truth in a manner similar to how my flesh already has. But as I move back towards discovering the absolute, the higher truth, and how you and i are going to shape it, the calling to re-examine the sacred texts becomes stronger.
Let's say, for example, that I could learn one hundred verses on the bible. Nothing fancy, but really just the ones that make up the canon. The ones that make the set core of beliefs. The ones that might not be politicized, but reflect the human ideals delineated in a spiritual realm.
It's the legacy of globalization on religion.
And I almost wish you could do the same, and then we could compare each other. And discover each other. And love each other.
---------------
i admit that i have a
seemingly everlasting
existential anguish based on the broader combination
of my life experiences,
but calling me emo? thats offensive
---------------
El libro era la frontera que separaba mis confundidos intentos y tu forzada apatía. Las paredes, semiblancas, entonaban un silencio tan profundo que se escuchaba todo. Acurrucado en tu hombro, escuché mis miedos, dos infancias, 7 años de sueños fallidos, tres de leyes, lo poco que te quedaba de Angelina, y al amor, que empacaba sus cosas despacito, porque no tenía ganas de irse. Y encima yo no creía en las fronteras. Que boludo.
---------------
Fundar una productora de documentales.
Fundar una caridad.
Ser fiambrero.
Viajar a cuatro paises, al menos.
Ir a Israel como parte de mi derecho judio.
Ir a los Emiratos Arabes Unidos para una conference internacional.
Visitar la biblioteca de Bs. As.
Ver una obra en el teatro Colon.
Free hugs.
Volver por Canada.
---------------
Maybe I did understand her. In the end, I knew she was going through as tough a time as I was, yet without any of us facing real suffering. A deep consciousness haunted us, because our connection to our respective background gave us a terrible sense of guilt about our privileged ways. Our simple privilege.
He was a strange figure, who I wanted to know more about. I also wanted to give him a snarky comment. Stab him with words. Pierce him with a stare. Destroy him with a handshake. But I knew that there would be no winners. Just three losers. Someone had to give it up first. And I didn't want to let it be me.
I'll remember the turtles, the drawings on your hands, and that big rock in Gayley.
Quiero ser academico, historiador, filosofo, muerto de hambre, feliz, quijotesco, padrino, soñador, amante, campestre, ciudadano, intelectual, cumbiero, traficante, sagaz, cocinero, hermano, futbolero, trabajador, escritor, atorrante, sabio, optimista, influencial, piropeador, sonriente, sorpresivo, libertador, guia, payaso, salame, tranquilo, consejero, hamburriento, abogado, carpintero, lider, humanista, politico, elegante, globalista, boyescau, cantautor, caballero andante, peluquero, tio, sobrio, desgraciado, dador alegre, intrepido, fulbolero, honrado, decisivo, campeon, medio bobo, acurrucador, simplistista, humilde, buen cabeceador, testosteronico, insolente, compasivo, buen mozo, piloto, armador, representante, honorable, maloliente, cachirulo, aventurero, parrandero, idealista, comediante, libertario, radical, senil.
Y tambien quería imaginarte junto a mi.
Pero sé, que en esta vida, no se puede ser todo lo que se quiere.
----------------
I have found the way in which I can be at peace with the Christian faith, as my intellect moves towards a higher truth in a manner similar to how my flesh already has. But as I move back towards discovering the absolute, the higher truth, and how you and i are going to shape it, the calling to re-examine the sacred texts becomes stronger.
Let's say, for example, that I could learn one hundred verses on the bible. Nothing fancy, but really just the ones that make up the canon. The ones that make the set core of beliefs. The ones that might not be politicized, but reflect the human ideals delineated in a spiritual realm.
It's the legacy of globalization on religion.
And I almost wish you could do the same, and then we could compare each other. And discover each other. And love each other.
---------------
i admit that i have a
seemingly everlasting
existential anguish based on the broader combination
of my life experiences,
but calling me emo? thats offensive
---------------
El libro era la frontera que separaba mis confundidos intentos y tu forzada apatía. Las paredes, semiblancas, entonaban un silencio tan profundo que se escuchaba todo. Acurrucado en tu hombro, escuché mis miedos, dos infancias, 7 años de sueños fallidos, tres de leyes, lo poco que te quedaba de Angelina, y al amor, que empacaba sus cosas despacito, porque no tenía ganas de irse. Y encima yo no creía en las fronteras. Que boludo.
---------------
Fundar una productora de documentales.
Fundar una caridad.
Ser fiambrero.
Viajar a cuatro paises, al menos.
Ir a Israel como parte de mi derecho judio.
Ir a los Emiratos Arabes Unidos para una conference internacional.
Visitar la biblioteca de Bs. As.
Ver una obra en el teatro Colon.
Free hugs.
Volver por Canada.
---------------
Maybe I did understand her. In the end, I knew she was going through as tough a time as I was, yet without any of us facing real suffering. A deep consciousness haunted us, because our connection to our respective background gave us a terrible sense of guilt about our privileged ways. Our simple privilege.
He was a strange figure, who I wanted to know more about. I also wanted to give him a snarky comment. Stab him with words. Pierce him with a stare. Destroy him with a handshake. But I knew that there would be no winners. Just three losers. Someone had to give it up first. And I didn't want to let it be me.
I'll remember the turtles, the drawings on your hands, and that big rock in Gayley.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Tysons Corner
Retrospectively.
The cigarettes spread out in the rocky decorations across the concrete. His hand gestures and lost gaze made him look anxious for the first time, despite his otherwise ever-present coolness and grace. For a moment, and certainly for the first time, I saw in his eyes a gleam of self-doubt. A bit of confusion. A sliver of anger.
Yet this moment was more about opposite observations. Who I was, perhaps, had eventually become more strange in his scope of understanding, wised by time and experience beyond mine. To me, this moment was already written out somewhere and the cloves just needed to burn a bit longer. I had not been surprised about anything for a long time. Certainly months, maybe years.
There had to be anger somewhere. He was too human to exist otherwise.
The cigarettes spread out in the rocky decorations across the concrete. His hand gestures and lost gaze made him look anxious for the first time, despite his otherwise ever-present coolness and grace. For a moment, and certainly for the first time, I saw in his eyes a gleam of self-doubt. A bit of confusion. A sliver of anger.
Yet this moment was more about opposite observations. Who I was, perhaps, had eventually become more strange in his scope of understanding, wised by time and experience beyond mine. To me, this moment was already written out somewhere and the cloves just needed to burn a bit longer. I had not been surprised about anything for a long time. Certainly months, maybe years.
There had to be anger somewhere. He was too human to exist otherwise.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Cambiando de ruta
Bienvenidos a la ciudad del ajedrez. Los saluda el caballero negro.
Por ahora: seguir viviendo con una melancolía crónica y un espíritu independiente, explorador y bohemio. Enseñar y aprender, construír y destrozar, dormir bien y mantener la salud.
Dejar ir aquellas cosas que no puedo controlar. Moldear los ambientes a los que tengo alcance. Leer bien. Hablar mas. Escribir aquí. Volver a cantar?
Por ahora: seguir viviendo con una melancolía crónica y un espíritu independiente, explorador y bohemio. Enseñar y aprender, construír y destrozar, dormir bien y mantener la salud.
Dejar ir aquellas cosas que no puedo controlar. Moldear los ambientes a los que tengo alcance. Leer bien. Hablar mas. Escribir aquí. Volver a cantar?
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Random thoughts
Things I thought to myself lately:
-"Pessimism" by Joshua Dienstag might have been the most important book I read during my college years. I ran into him yesterday.
-Pop radio: Why is the word "rubbers" (in reference to condoms) censored in Eminem's song "Crack a Bottle", but the words "condoms" is not censored when Asher Roth's song "I Love College" plays? I find this puzzling, and of course, do not condone censoring the slang "rubbers". Safe sex, please.
-Why are L.A. progressives who spent their lives working in community development, non-profit sector, coaltion building, etc, all up in arms and concerned about my willingness to go out to a dance club located in a low-income, mostly immigrant neighborhood?
-That girl Sophia. She's up and coming.
-"Pessimism" by Joshua Dienstag might have been the most important book I read during my college years. I ran into him yesterday.
-Pop radio: Why is the word "rubbers" (in reference to condoms) censored in Eminem's song "Crack a Bottle", but the words "condoms" is not censored when Asher Roth's song "I Love College" plays? I find this puzzling, and of course, do not condone censoring the slang "rubbers". Safe sex, please.
-Why are L.A. progressives who spent their lives working in community development, non-profit sector, coaltion building, etc, all up in arms and concerned about my willingness to go out to a dance club located in a low-income, mostly immigrant neighborhood?
-That girl Sophia. She's up and coming.
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