An Incident on MSN

Unbelievable, it's been almost three months since I last updated this poor little blog of mine. Well, actually I spent all the time thinking about tons of subjects to write (and whine) about but never (as always!?) really got my ass up to start putting them down in letters. And so I ended up jotting down my ideas in separate pieces of memo which I left here and there and, surely, they would unretrievably disappear.

Enough for this little whining part. Let's get to the point then. Nothing can inspire me more than a subject on "love" and "relationship" just as it has done to many songwriters, playwrights, painters, photographers, artists, adults, adolescents or even amateur bloggers like me.

I've had quite a hard day today. I just got back an hour ago and immediately got connected to the cyberspace. The first gateway to my internet is MSN. As many people (or you?) may do, I possess two accounts, the official one and the other that serves more "playful" purposes (hmmm). These two represent the two extreme side of my characters; namely the shiny white one that I can always show proudly to the public (including you, of course!) and the other darker, more sinister and mysterious one, restrictively presented to a selected group of people (including you?) , with my physical self, being colored grey, in the middle. For this, the internet really works wonders on both the definition and creation of my identity at the same time.

From the "white" side, I can see people expressing their ideas, wishes and needs, mostly in line with the social norms and traditions, while I can as well do the same. On the contrary, the "darker" side allows me to see what I can hardly perceive in my physical world, what really lies deep down inside people's mind, things that are convicted and tagged as "open secrets". Topics involved are totally different or even unimaginable in some cases. However, I notice one common ground of these two shades; loneliness.

No matter what people on my lists seek, at some point I see that they are accompanied by some kind of loneliness that makes them long for a cure. Some rant about today's political situations, economic problems, star gossips and end up putting a verse of love song on their name. Others are constantly seeking ways to calm down their lust and desire but end up with messages that express their loneliness next to their names. Some always and only show their interests in sexual matters but somehow end up extending the scope of their conversations and asking for a chance to get to know more about other persons on the other side of the screen.

Today I logged on to both accounts and surprisingly found these kind of messages exceedingly noticeable. The other day a guy added me and asked if I would like to talk about a relationship with him or anything that might finally lead to it. A few days earlier, I had talked to five or six persons who brought me the same topic. Recalling this, I started to wonder why these people never meet each other. They all share the same goal but have never been fortunate enough to come across one another while those who are lucky to get to know them, like me, are never looking to end his/her loneliness yet. And I found this cruelly sad.

I have been living with my own style of loneliness since I don't know when but I believe I can cope up with it very well. However, what I have seen today defies my confidence and strikes and shakes the wall that I have created to protect my fragile core.

Now I'm not so sure that I'm as strong as I thought I was. I'm uncertain whether I can continue living on with my loneliness. I don't know if I'm still the one who can look at these lonely people and feel sorry for them... or actually I'm just one of them?

Buy me that Bottega Veneta, and I’ll love you the rest of my life.

Lately my fashion consciousness has been effectively suppressed for my wallet’s sake but now I can feel it struggling inside me day and night and preparing to wreak another havoc on my ledger.

Speaking of my wallet, no matter how much I really adore the one I currently own (it was a birthday present from my Patto), I can’t avoid the fact that it will soon complete its life cycle and head straight to the nirvana.

My black Albédo with a note clip has served me well during this past four years. On the contrary, I haven’t cared for him (or her? Should my wallet be a girl? I don’t think so.) as much as I should have done and it has worn out so quickly than expected. That isn’t the excuse for its dismissal though. Functionally speaking, it can (and will) last many more years.

But what can I say? I just happened to come across a softer, sleeker and less masculine (Yep! LESS masculine!) Bottega Veneta with its signature interciatto style. It was the love at first sight (that might probably end in a tragedy). If I stand the urge to possess it, I will end up thinking about it till the rest of my days (or until the next model appears) and if I decide to go for it, I will end up with a big red balance this month. Either way, it’s a bitter-sweet conclusion.

Gosh, I wish I could switch off this freaking obsession like a computer machine. Why is a fashion item so beautifully crafted so out of reach in a financial term? Damn that marketing strategies, brand management and so on, or is it just MY problem? Arrrrrggggh…

But wait! I think I’ve got solutions!

Instead of pointlessly venting my rant here, I should start getting my next project done, get my paycheque and go straight to the shop!!!

Or…

You can buy me THAT Bottega Veneta and I’ll feed you with my love for the rest of my life ;-)

La nostalgia

-La nostalgia, dice Roland, es una enfermedad. Se agarra a las paredes del corazón y apelmaza la sangre y las ideas. Se puede combatir de muchas maneras, pero la más eficaz es regresando a casa.-

El último libro de Sergi Pàmies

25

Now that I have fully lived a quarter of a century, does this mean anything to me? On one hand, it's just one more year that has gone by, with uncountable chapters of different genres of my life. But on the other, and symbollically, is it time yet for me to start thinking about what will be coming and what I wish to happen in the next quarter?

I have -inevitably- grown up. We all grow up every year, if not day. But since 25 is something like a small milestone that marks the path you are taking, reminding you of how far you have come and how many more miles you may need to get to where you want to be, I feel obliged to do some serious, but not stressful, (re)thinking.

Every morning on my way to the office, if not reading, I like to let my thought fly from here to there just to kill time. From shoes style of those who sit in front of me in the metro to the ever-changing digits of my mutual fund accounts or the imagined lives of the sufferers of Franquismo, I let it fly away to search for whatever that seems to catch the attention of my conciousness, no matter how small the subjects are. Morning is the best moment to do such mental activity as your mind is fully awake and desperately in need of some exercise.

However, this evening in particular, as the most inappropriate timing, cramped in a bus on the way home, I felt that my thought happened to find its way to one of the darkest corner hidden somewhere inside my brain and shouted "Hey! I know 25 is nothing for you, but don't you really wanna do something 'different' just to celebrate such insignificant arrival of age?". I replied "Well, then, what should I do?". Silence.

It seemed like it had simply left, just like a passerby, but only after having dropped a time bomb inside my head. The bomb was ticking. I was thinking. Something different, the arrival of age and its insignificance. What do they have in common? Probably they all share a common ground of my past; my youth and my childhood to be more specific. For years, I have experienced the joy of having very limited responsibilities, wishing to get older only to be more powerful and able to make my own decision while ignoring the possible consequences that might come with it. 25 is a long time for a person to fully enjoy such thing, though some are never satisfied with it and always want some more - until the day they turn 50, look back and find nothing but an empty path. Do I want to, when I wake up one day, be like that? Definitely not. If I allow myself one more day of those privileges, I will do it everyday until forever. Probably that was what "the thought" warned me about.

There are changes that can easily be made in a blink of an eye, but also those that need some time, huge motivation and tremendous efforts to bend their shape. We're all bound to face both, but some are not quite prepared or when they are, it might be a bit too late.

I got off the bus with all these messy thoughts dancing noisily inside my head, challenging me to put them into order and start analysing them one by one. This can be classified as the second type of change. And that leads me to why I am here, (re)thinking, contemplating and writing, trying my best to lay the foundation of what I want to build in the coming years so that when approaching the next milestone I can look back, smile and be proud.

¿Dónde están mis musas?

Sólo faltan dos meses antes de que cumpla un año de estancia en Bangkok. Diez meses no son nada comparados con los años que pasé aquí antes de partir para España, pero aun así no sé por qué todavía no descubro el sosiego que he anticipado desde el momento que pisé esta tierra.

Parece que mi vida en este metropolitano tailandés empieza ya a coger el ritmo caótico del Oriente. Tanto trabajo, tantas ansias y tanto estrés. Cada vez tenemos menos tiempo para divertirnos, en sentido positivo y constructivo, tal como ir de viaje a algún sitio lejano y tranquilo sólo para permitirnos el lujo de "reflexionar" sobre los rollos que nunca nos hemos molestado a prestarles atención.

Sin haberme tomado ninguna oportunidad de buscar un retiro que fatalmente necesito, siento que mi alma cada vez se ve mas contaminada por las fuerzas negativas provocadas por esta ciudad, sea la contaminación, el calor, el tráfico, la suciedad o las calles laberínticas tan concurridas y bloqueadas por chiringuitos y tiendecitas de baratijas.

Un día de estos, temprano de la mañana, me levantaré para unir con el corriente humano que fluye en el metro hacia su destino y en el camino me pararé a pensar ... ¿por qué estoy aquí y qué estoy haciendo y qué es lo que realmente quiero?

Claro que serán preguntas filosóficas que ni siquiera los grandes filósofos consiguieron las respuestas perfectas. Serán cosas que, para alguien, resultarán absurdas y les harán perder el tiempo. Sin embargo, para mí, serán las pequeñas luces en el mar de oscuridad en el que estoy perdido. Serán las luces que siempre tenía hace unos años antes de que desaparecieron en el corriente de competencia y sobrevivencia.

Algún día, espero, me volverán a mí a iluminar de nuevo aquellas inspiraciones que una vez tantas poseía, o mejor dicho, me acompañaban. Mis musas. La primera me vino a visitar cuando estaba en Madrid y la percibí en forma del dolor intenso provocado por el apendicitis. Parecía algo infernal y me enseñaba a tener miedo de la muerte y consecuentemente apreciar la belleza de la vida y todo lo que junto con ella venía. Desde entonces siempre se queda conmigo y que luego comenzaba a llamar a otras para que me inspiraran. Fueron los momentos de reflexiones en los que nunca me faltaba ningún recurso para seguir luchando por "algo" que hacía que la vida valiera la pena.

Pero en esta ciudad, todas de repente se desvanecieron, dejándome en la soledad sin ganas de expresar ni crear. Quizás necesite una escapada a algún lugar tranquilo o un viaje de regreso a Madrid para recargarme otra vez de las fuerzas que me ayudarán a luchar ... porque allí es la cuna de mis musas.

Beagle Sushi, yummy?

I'm a beagle deliciously named Sushi. I first came to this house on January 27th, blurred, disoriented and starving.

I happened to hear (not eavesdrop, mind you!) that "They" just wanted to take a look at my cuttie face and hadn't decided to "adopt" me yet. But after 15 minutes or so, I successfully cast my charming spell upon them, just by waging, biting and strolling around and being cute!

That was how I finally got into this messy house that seemed, for my beaglean taste, too untidy. But at least here I had got a gentle dotty Dalmatian uncle who always spared his time to play with me.

At first, I DID try to be nice and less stubborn (or even foolhardy) but I had to think twice when I knew what name "they" finally decided to give me.

I was soooooooooo excited, as a Thai-born western Beagle, to be called "Quillo" which means "A little boy" in Spanish. That sounded very chic and so aristocrat and would definitely set me apart from those mundane Beagles of other social levels. As a complimentary spectacle for my so-called owners, I danced around and tried to be nice for a couple of days until... One fine day, some of "them" came back from what they called "movie" and blessed me with this "Sushi" name.

Spanish name suddenly, without notice (and my consent), became Japanese! So that was when I officially got to be a (miserably) Thai-born western Beagle with a Japanese name. On the bright side, at least I still sound international. Should I complain?

So, one full month has passed and here I am, running, biting, eating, pooing, making a wee wee, having siestas, disobeying, growing and still kicking arse. Almost everything seems nice here and I'm starting to like "them", bit by bit though. If my ignorant memory doesn't fail me... I think one of them, who always come to play with me every evening around 7 o'clock and try very hard to express his affection on me, is called Mod.

The Signs

Sometimes the endless choices that stand before you, that lessen your instict by imposing on you the fear to make any decision that may affect the course of your future, can be overwhelming and consequently lead you to choose the worst path; doing nothing, standing still and being afraid to go for it.

When such moment comes, when our insticts are blurred by the intimidation of uncertainty that lies within the choices to be made, we desperately seek solutions, hints or clues that may help us get out of the maze. They may come in the form of anything, be it books, articles, advices from friends, mottos, quotes, philosophy or even yourself.

However, some say that such solutions don't come when you need them most. Sometimes, they never do. That's probably the time you have to look around you in search of the signs.

As Paolo Coelho says in his masterpiece "The Alchemist", God has prepared a path for everyone to follow. You just have to read the omens that he left for you. I personally never believe in God, needless to say the signs. Nevertheless, my recent experience has taught me to take a good look at things at difficult time from a different angle and become more observant of the circumstances and things around me. They may reveal themselves and lead you to the end of the dark tunnel that seems endless. I learnt to search for the signs that support the decision I determined right and was about to make. When I found them, I went for it.

I was so afraid whether to take the offer in a medium-sized company that mainly dealt with Spanish clients although the position might perfectly fit me. It wasn't the establishment that was the problem but actually it was me. I was intimidated by my own ego and afraid that if I accepted the offer, I would soon abandon it to look for something "greater" for which I thought I was worth, as I had done in the past. Then again, I began to look around and noticed that some small details concerning the post did fit my lifestyle and needs. At once I knew they were "the signs", no matter how small they might be. From there I got to know I really wanted that opportunity and started to thread for the bigger ones which would finally inspire me to reach for the star. I knew that the "bigger signs" might or might not exist but the inspiration I got from the "smaller ones" had already propelled me to look for them at any cost and I finally found them. That was when I felt comfortable, either with myself or the circumstances, to make the decision and compromise myself at a long run and, of course, with no more clouds of uncertainty.

The great job I got wasn't the most precious treasure I had found. It was the experience itself. I finally see the existence of what I previously considered inexistent and have learned how to look at the positive side of small things that may inspire you for something greater.

When you're at a dead-end, it's probably time to start looking for the signs.