quarta-feira, 27 de fevereiro de 2013

...Hay veces que odias al mundo simplemente por lo que te hace pasar. Yal hablar de mundo, hablo de ese ente invisible que nunca sabes por dónde anda ni dónde se mete pero que siempre te toca para poner tu propia existencia un pelín más "patas arriba" de lo que estaba.
Si creías que no te bastaba con lo que te iba ya revolviendo las tripas, aparece el mundo y hace que se te caigan a los pies. Abre puertas y cierra otras con tanta rapidez que ni te regala ese segundo para voltearte y ver quien llama... El mundo te lo plantifica delante, con unos ojos mar profundo y una sonrisa de luz que te atonta y te obliga a pensar antes de decir un simple "hola" que, por mucho que intentes, sonará estúpido en cuanto lo pronuncies.
Las olas de su cabeza juegan con tu sentido, pero pierde el tiempo haciéndose oír cuando el mar ya está rompiendo contra las rocas.
Y la brisa te regala esa frescura con sabor a sal que deja la ola al morir en la tierra... "Así es como besa el mar" Besa cuando ya está todo perdido y lo hace como si fuese la primera y la última vez... Y cuanto más alta es la espuma, cuanta más fuerza trae en su grito final, más gotas de sal te regala traídas por el viento... Y las recibes así, de pie. Mirando al horizonte.
Tú se lo devuelves con la intención de tirarte a él, de dejar tu cuerpo desplomarse en sus aguas...
...Así juegas con el mar... Así le entregas tu corazón a las aguas... Así dejas tu alma a su sal y tus ganas jugar con sus olas. Y vuelves a perderte en sus ojos. Y aunque intentas unirte más al mar haciéndote agua...sabes que jamás podrás deshacerte en él... Ves su sal. Sus olas brillan con tanta luz... pero por más que el agua sea agua... son dos mares, y al final los acaba separando la tierra.
Y aún así... Dejas que tu corazón navegue con sus olas... consciente del riesgo que supone, pues la sal acabará corroyéndolo una vez más. Pero ya da igual... Ver cómo se va con las olas, como una botella arrastrada por la corriente, te embriaga con esa sensación de eternidad que entraña todo aquello que se hunde en sus profundidades... Y ya en el abismo, desde el acantilado en que lo ves flotar, sonríes; no sin notar otra vez la frescura en tu rostro... Y esta vez, vuelves a sonreír porque, a pesar de saber que es una lágrima, sabes que la brisa la unirá de ese mismo modo infinito e inmortal a las gotas de mar y sal que vienen a besar tu mejilla. Y así... Será un parasiempre tan bonito como difícil de olvidar...



Scritto por Victor Neira

quinta-feira, 21 de fevereiro de 2013

Insomnia


Please dont play the music while you're reading this, otherwise it will look like i'm on drugs. Anyway I was in bed with Jallo and lil Anna and a lot of clear stuff came trough my head. I mean, after your departure, i though i needed to do some changes in my life. One you already now. Go out more. And the others...

Well first of all, this experience made me realize about the power of the words and the languages. Right now, portuguese is my safe port, it's my litle secret, cause whatever i say nobody will understand. But in other hand, as i dont have many contact with portuguese people, and those i had, have left i feel like i'm losing a part of myself, of my identity. My thoughts now came all in english, if i hurt myself or forget about something i say fuck instead of "foda-se". Thats it... for the first time in my erasmus i miss my roots. Well about the food everybody knows that i miss it like hell! "Anna, if you went to portugal you would eat like a tiger"...aii freschello, freschello...

Anyway, returning to changes i feel like i need to bury some stuff from my pass that make me angry or obsessed. So, tomorrow, i'll go out in this sunny day and get together all those pictures from him and written papers with things that i want them to go away and i'll put in the 5L bottle of wine (remember?). In the other bottle i'll put wishes and things that i want to happen. This looks a little stupid but i thing its a good terapy. I'll talk with kasha, Yeray, Victorio (you know, the portuguese one that says jajajaja) and Emmi. For sure they have wishes and things to leave in the Liguria Sea...

P.s: If you dont think this idea too crazy (as me) write me your wishes and things to bury.
P.s 2: Now you understand why you have to keep this letters private, otherwise i'll go straight to do an erasmus in a mental sanatory

Movie Night ... da sola !

When I was in my 1st year of High School i had "the teacher". You know, that hot teacher that you never forget. He was giving classes of philosophy, so maybe that's why i love it so much. Anyway, one day we were talking about movies that makes you cry and he said that the only movie that made him cry was "Dancer in the Dark" with Bjork directed by Lars Von Trier from Denmark. So, as like to cry in movie i was lookin' foward to see it, but then somebody told me it was a musical. Well musicals and karaokes are 2 things that really piss me off. Yeah i know i sang in budapest (but yeah i was drunk too). Anyway, as Genova looks a little bit stuck in time i said: "well lets see this fuckin moovie that putted my fuckin hot philosofy teacher crying".

Well after 2 hours its this what i have to say (its not a spoiler dont worry):

It's a movie that shows the love from a mother to a child. It also made me remember why i'm not good to people or why i stopped to be good. Because in this century good actions to someone always had a bad back return. Thats why Anna i'm always worried about you when you're good to people because the world is full of bad people that take advantage of little girls like you. Anyway, its a good way to cure you beggining feelings of Post erasmus depression.

Bruno from Croatia came here today to pick a pick but i gave him for free because he payed me all the drinks in white rabbit. We also talked about girls and boys and i learn with him and i guess he learned with me AS ALSO. But yeah, i didnt get out of the house cause it was frickin cold. But i guess tomorrow i'll go to Camogli to see my fisherman friend or whatever.
And tomorrow we'll do a party in 260:
Whiling to: 0
But i'm just gonna do it because yeray finished his exames and because i'm going to start a new game in the house... But i'll explain you in the next letter, Vale? But i think you'll like it :)

P.s: it feels really good to write to you, its like some kind of therapy

La Tedesca

The time in Genova flies because you're living way too fast. I arrive yesterday and suddenly we are almost in March. Between my arrival and today i won so much and at the same time, became empty. I look at my window and whisper "shes not here anymore", "she wont be at the party". This is only my first day without her and i feel so empty. Neither of us want to be together because if we are we will be more appart because something will be missing. HER! Nicolas and Isabelle lost their lovely friends also and they said that the next days would be worst...
In my mind i just regret to have spent so much time in bed instead of going out with her more often. Well, i guess I will change it, she would like to see me going out in the daylight. I regret also to havent spent the last days with her. I was selfish, as always. Because i was blaming her for leaving me here in Genova and everytime that i see her i just wanted to cry, so i prefered to be in bed crying alone. And now that shes gone i've just wish i could go back and swallow my pride and hug her as a koala hugs an eucalypto and never let her go. But it isnt too late for redemption. And even though she knows that i love her as a sister and that my personality is a little bit temperamental. But for what she thaught me, I wanna change into a less conflituous person. I will love more, and hate less. I bet that now she's happy because she's changing the way of people acting and behave...

                                      I love words, palavras, parole, text, palabras, paroles ....
They are a way to comunicate when the voice isnt abble to do it... or when its missunderstoon or when its silente. But, my hands, those, they never shut up. That's why for her I'll make a bridge of letters between Italy and Deutchland, and she can at least be appart of what we're doing, or not doing here.
It will be our secret, our little diary, from me to her.
Almost every day i'll write to her...
But... almost every hour i'll miss her.


Für Anna