Transparent

This is the story of a girl who lived in a crystal house right on the edge of a cliff. She had a marvelous view of the blue sky and the purple mountains far away, the grass was green covered with tiny wild flowers…. Her home transparent, it was all empty and colorless, a bubble only for her.

The sunlight woke her up with soft light that as minutes and hours went by made her recoil to a corner, curled, the sun hurt her eyes magnified by the glass yet in the afternoon hours she spent hours gazing at the tiny flowers that grew just outside the glass, no door to get out, no window to climb out… only her eyes to go out… The day kept going by, the moon and the stars promised a better tomorrow but sometimes clouds covered it all and darkness swallowed her with her crystal house. In the middle of it all she curled, hugged herself trying to find a shelter from the darkness outside.

One day, she´d had enough; she paced and paced since the sunrise to the sunshine. “What will I do? I am getting out today” she decided over and over. Her house was no frail place, she pushed the glass and nothing happened, she tried to lure the birds, the rabbits, the deer… anyone that could help her… they could not listen, so in the end, she braced herself… “I´ll break it with my own hands if I have to” she said to herself and she went for it.

One blow, it hurt but nothing happened, “one more time” she commanded herself and she hit with all her strength… it almost felt like the glass had cracked but when she saw, what had changed had been her. Her fist, her hand was now transparent glass. She moved her new transparent fingers as she felt her heart beating fast… the sun made the hand glow… tiny little rainbows came out… little lights dancing everywhere.

“Maybe now that I´m glass too, I´ll break it” she tried again, harder this time. The glass made a cracking sound and as it did so her arm, shoulder, neck, chest and everything else in her did… she wasn´t breaking though, she´d started to turn glass, slow motion yet so fast. She looked away as if trying to escape turning into glass but it was too late… she was glass now, hard, transparent glass… her eyes were the last to change, the last thing she ever saw was the inside of her crystal cage… it seemed she was running inside when all she wanted was to run outside…

The night came, darker than ever… her house was transparent…. The sun rose, brighter than ever… her house was transparent, no one saw it; she was as transparent as her crystal house.

****

A/N

"Tell me an interesting story" I don´t know how many times I´ve said that... somehow this one came up to be like that but not really, the moment I said "I´ll make you one instead" it started to happen in my mind, so clear and quick... by the time I offered to make the story instead of asking it, it was already done and as I already know, writing does calm me down, makes me feel better... I'm glad this little one happened, it was a surprise that I even got to think of it. I´ve been asked to tell stories before and I´ve always said no to that and for the one person that didn´t want it, it happened... My brain works in funny ways.

A Prince´s Lessons

The Little Prince

                The Little Prince is one of my favorite characters of all books. First of all, because it was the first book I ever read, so I have special memories about it. Second, I really like the way he is. He is so curious; however, he is a shy little guy. I guess I used to feel somehow related to those characteristics. I like that he is always wanting to know the reason of things, he is always asking questions; I like how he insists so much in order to get what he wants, and above all, I love the way he found out the meaning of friendship. Tame was the word the author used; I found that scene very captivating. I really enjoyed reading The Little Prince as much as I did about almost thirteen years ago when I first read it.

                The Prince got to know all sorts of people, people who forgot about the little meaningful things on life. At first he met a king who was alone; however, he felt the universe belonged to him; then he found a conceited man who never listened to anything but praise; then there was a tippler who drank in order to forget he was a tippler, he lived unwillingly to change his addiction; later, in the next planet, the Little Prince found a business man who was so busy trying to own everything that he never enjoyed anything; in the next stop the Little Prince met a lamp-lighter, a good man, but his planet shrunk from time to time, so there was no room for anybody but himself; finally he met a geographer, a man who had never explored, a man who had never left his desk. All those types of people inhabit Earth as well, each one live like they inhabit their own planet, alone, each one so busy on their own ambitions that they have forgotten about happiness and companionship. Although the Little Prince didn´t understand any of the men he knew, he practically met all type of personas.

                The Little Prince, through his journey, shows the valuable things in life. The Little Prince´s most valuable possession was a rose. On the outside his rose was just like any other rose; however, the time they spent together, the time he wasted on her made that rose completely different to any other rose. Such thing: time wasted on something or someone, memories, words…; that´s what makes someone or something really valuable. “…What is essential is invisible to the eye”; therefore, happiness, worth and value are not in what we see with our eyes but they are in what we feel with our heart. That is, indeed, the most valuable truth in life. 

***

This was a paper I presented for some English class. I found the paper last night in some folders... 

"Your comments are very inspiring!!!" was my teacher´s comment -yet I got a nine lol I had four spelling mistakes haha

sleep

when the light´s off
and nothing but whispers surround me
I´ll close my eyes
and the horrors of my unspoken words will chase me
I don´t want to close my eyes
but I want my mind to go to drift to nothingness
sleep´s a blessing I´m dreprived of
darkness so calm, so private
just a different kind of light
fear comes from inside where the reason of harm is
inside and all alone...captive in a tiny cell
what do you do with the impulse to run
when you can´t run away from yourself?

Mad to a sixteen yr old...

I´m going crazy. I´ve been wanting to write something for about two weeks now and then I just don´t. I don´t really want to turn it into another rant, there´s too much of that in here already.... I´d like to make it into something creative, something that actually makes some -even a little sense- but nothing´s happening.

During the day I´m constantly feeling like I want to write and that I really really need to write, and that´s not me exagerating, I have the actual need of writing but then I don´t, granted, it´s quite hard to do it when I have to stay flat on my back and the small movements with my arms hurt but still... no good writing´s happening, my ideas are everywhere and nowhere, I keep chasing them and they just keep running away from me. And then, at night, these little scenes for stories or poems pop up in my head and I like them and I want to use them and they could be good, I know but in the morning... I´m so tired and I just can´t write during the day. I can´t do it and it´s so sad...

The week before last week I was in the restroom -nice place to have epiphanies- lol - I thought as I made my pony-tail again that I wanted to write some sort of idk post talking about writing but at that time I thought that I wanted to say that I wanted to dedicate more time to writing. I read something everyday, that´s what I want to do with writing but then I just can´t and I love it and I can´t .... and this blog was supposed to make me feel good and now I feel so bad for not writing at all and I´ve been wondering if I should take everything down...

Here I am, again, I have so much to say and I just.... it seems I can´t do it, I don´t know what else to say. There´s a multiverse of thoughts in my head yet there is nothing there, nothing but space.....

I had a little meeting with one of my bosses yesterday, it made me mad, there was this paper I had graded and I took away 15% because it was given to me a day after the due date and that 15% was there to reward giving the paper on time...anyway the boss said no, I couldn´t take away that 15% no,no,no, it was too much blah blah blah... I said my reasons for not wanting to put any of that porcentage to that girl but whatever in the end the boss is the boss so I had to put some.... I guess I´m kinda mad with the girl, the irresponsible girl who didn´t give her paper on time, and it´s completely irrational, I´m not mad at her being late, she´s a senior this year, and really,  I care about my students but this girl has been this irresponsible since I met her so I don´t care, and that´s exactly what I thought "I don´t care, she could go into life being irresponsible, I hope she gets fired at her jobs for that" -such a good teacher I am- but then, her family has money and ...wait for it..

wait...

she writes -bam! there!- some teachers say she´s good at it, she´s always saying she´ll show me her work but she´s never done it anyways I was thinking after the "I hope she gets fired at her job when she works" part that she´ll probably never work, she´s wealthy enough to not do that, no, that´s just something us poor people have to do but... mmmm she´s quite interested in writing and she says she can see herself doing that so maybe she´ll become a writer and I bet she´ll even publish because she´s rich and rich ppl know ppl -geez am I being horrible or what? I´m mad at a 16yr old girl, so inmature of me but I´m angrier at myself... I bet if by a miracle I´d get a contact to be published or something I´d probably be one of those authors who have only one book because I can´t even keep up with my own stuff, I don´t write, I just want to write, I DONT write, at all

I´m so bitter right now....and I turned this thing into one of my complaining parties agh -good thing my back hurts like hell now ´cause that´ll make me stop, now!

Bienvenida -Mario Benedetti

Se me ocurre que vas a llegar distinta 
no exactamente más linda
ni más fuerte
ni más dócil
ni más cauta
tan solo que vas a llegar distinta
como si esta temporada de no verme
te hubiera sorprendido a vos también
quizá porque sabes
cómo te pienso y te enumero

después de todo la nostalgia existe
aunque no lloremos en los andenes fantasmales
ni sobre las almohadas de candor
ni bajo el cielo opaco

yo nostalgio
tu nostalgias
y cómo me revienta que él nostalgie

tu rostro es la vanguardia
tal vez llega primero
porque lo pinto en las paredes
con trazos invisibles y seguros

no olvides que tu rostro
me mira como pueblo
sonríe y rabia y canta
como pueblo
y eso te da una lumbre
inapagable
ahora no tengo dudas
vas a llegar distinta y con señales
con nuevas
con hondura
con franqueza

sé que voy a quererte sin preguntas
sé que vas a quererme sin respuestas.

¿y si Dios fuera mujer? por Mario Benedetti

¿Y si Dios fuera mujer? 

pregunta Juan sin inmutarse, 

vaya, vaya si Dios fuera mujer 

es posible que agnósticos y ateos 

no dijéramos no con la cabeza 

y dijéramos sí con las entrañas. 

Tal vez nos acercáramos a su divina desnudez 

para besar sus pies no de bronce, 

su pubis no de piedra, 

sus pechos no de mármol, 

sus labios no de yeso. 

Si Dios fuera mujer la abrazaríamos 

para arrancarla de su lontananza 

y no habría que jurar 

hasta que la muerte nos separe 

ya que sería inmortal por antonomasia 

y en vez de transmitirnos SIDA o pánico 

nos contagiaría su inmortalidad. 

Si Dios fuera mujer no se instalaría 

lejana en el reino de los cielos, 

sino que nos aguardaría en el zaguán del infierno, 

con sus brazos no cerrados, 

su rosa no de plástico 

y su amor no de ángeles. 

Ay Dios mío, Dios mío 

si hasta siempre y desde siempre 

fueras una mujer 

qué lindo escándalo sería, 

qué venturosa, espléndida, imposible, 

prodigiosa blasfemia.