lunes, octubre 30

qué pesadez..

Update tardón: vocecitas.
¿los updates se ponen al final, no?
ya pues, qué importa...
agarren sus micrófonos y vengan a la fiesta post-halloween (clic)
(no vale irse sin dejar comentario)
...

Vengo con ganas de jugar al karaoke.
Canten conmigo.

les pego la letra:

Suelo despertar con una impresión de infelicidad
Me pregunto si en la realidad sólo hay ilusión pero nada más, no hay nada
No me hace ilusión la vida formal, la revolución ni el materialismo
Filosofar sobre esta vida y la de allá... ¡Qué pesadez!

Suelo despertar con una impresión de infelicidad
Si pudiera desaparecer esta desazón, si no fuera más que un mal momento
No me hace ilusión ir a trabajar a un gran almacén, ser ingeniera
Tampoco veo mi vocación en la maternidad.... ¡Qué pesadez!

Cómo puede ser tanta adversidad estorbada por pasatiempos
Pocas cosas hay nuevas bajo el sol
Y la novedad, tampoco es novedad

No me hace ilusión esto de escribir, ni de publicar, ser reconocida
Tampoco ser la guitarrista de un grupo rock... ¡Qué pesadez!


p.s. cualquier parecido con la realidad, es purísima coincidencia. obviamente.

p.p.s. Nnnno se pierdan mañana la clásica jalohuin party. Vengan disfrazados. Y traigan chupi.

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domingo, octubre 15

chatting with myself

(Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and have coffee with myself. grab that airheaded teen and sit her down and mom her)
Last week I turned 30. Well, 31 really. But who cares.
Since then, I've been dreaming about change. What change. Don't know. Change of wardrobe. Change of haircut. Any change.
I dress like a stupid teen. I still feel like a stupid teen. Maybe, because I am.
See, I turned 30. And somehow I feel 15.
I wish I had a time travel transport system. I'd walk up to the ticket office and ask for a round trip ticket to 15 year old time. I wouldn't carry a backpack with photos, notebooks, or anything to show this person. Just me, and my words.
As I ride the transportation device (would the trip be too long?) I'd try not to think too much of the things I might forget to say. Because I always do that. Obsess over things I fear to forget.
Anyhow, I've rehearsed the conversation with 15 year old me. It goes something like this:

30 yearoldme: hey, kid.
15 yearoldme: oh my! (scary situation, of course)
30 yearoldme: just listen to me, freak out later. please, try to remember these things I'm going to tell you, I know you forget things easily, so stop thinking about that silly boy that you'll never see again, and pay attention.
15 yearoldme: (awkward silence)
30 yearoldme: you need to decide right now what you want to do with you life.
15 yearoldme: that's what you're here for? bah, I already know: I'm gonna go to "fancy college", because my best friend is going and she says it's the best school in Peru and I believe her, and it's gonna be so much fun!
30 yearoldme: fun?!??!?! (gasp)
15 yearoldme: (this lady has serious issues...)
30 yearoldme: kid, that school is going to burn your brains off, trust me. you have to realize one thing. I know you want to migrate to McLand when you're done with peruvian fancy college, right?
15 yearoldme: yeah, that's where my brother and sister live.
30 yearoldme: see, by the time you're done with your fancy peruvian college, sister and brother are gonna be parents.
15 yearoldme: cool!
30 yearoldme: yeah...but, not really. that means you won't be the baby sister anymore. you'll become... an aunt.
15 yearoldme: so?
30 yearoldme: nevermind. focus on this: it's important that you realize that going to fancy peruvian college is an investment. not just dad's money, but your time and effort. which is just as valuable. understand?
15 yearoldme: I guess.. but this school is really good! I KNOW it's going to get me a great career... I will be offered fabulous jobs! and I'll be accepted in ivy league colleges for graduate education!
30 yearoldme: naive kid, you know nothing. fancy peruvian college is a stupid choice if you're NOT going to be amongst the top 10% of the class. you're smart. but lazy. aknowledge that. do you want to go to McLand? then being smart is not enough. A LOT of people are as smart as you or more. face it, dad can't possibly pay for graduate school, so you'll be on your own. that means you'll have to get a scholarship and that means you'll have to beat all those other little geniuses around you in fancy peruvian college.
15 yearoldme: c'mon.. those twerps? I already beat them at the academy.. piece of cake..
30 yearoldme: oh, yeah? those kids will outsmart you, remember that. they'll all graduate sooner than you. and they'll all get nice jobs sooner than you.
15 yearoldme: (sound of jaw dropping)
30 yearoldme: listen, forget fancy peruvian college. consider easy peruvian college.. or average peruvian college instead.
15 yearoldme: WHAT! no way! EW!
30 yearoldme: please, try to fight arrogance, it's not going to get you anywhere. at all..
15 yearoldme: I am NOT going to those mediocre schools.
30 yearoldme: believe me, no one cares.. you're all the same to the market. and, by the way, you're heading straight to mediocrity, anyways.
15 yearoldme: (jaw dropping lower)
30 yearoldme: besides, if you're going to apply for a McLand grad school scholarship, it'll be easier for you to be in the top 10% of the class in easy peruvian college, see? going to fancy peruvian college and not being among the top of the class only makes sense if you want to stay in Peru and fight the competition in its uneasy labor market. but then, this might be your life scenario: graduate from fancy peruvian college, eventually get a shitty executive position, work your ass off to a miserable third world mid-class wage, complain about living with your dad to random peruvian jerk you're going out with, and worrying sick everytime your work contract gets close to its due date and god knows if it'll be renewed while Alan Garcia is back in town.
15 yearoldme: Fuck!
30 yearoldme: yeah..
15 yearoldme: so, um, what is it that you are doing now with your, I mean, MY life?
30 yearoldme: you don't need to know that.. and what I'm doing now might change anyways if you want to.
15 yearoldme: c'mon.. tell me.. I want to know!
30 yearoldme: get your tango shoes ready..
15 yearoldme: (wtf..)
30 yearoldme: forget it. I know you want to go to fancy peruvian college, it's challenging, you like that, and it's good. but, if your do decide to go there, promise yourself one thing: once the sparks wear off, and they will, and you end up overwhelmed and disgusted with all that neoliberal capitalist crap, when you feel like running away from them, do it. have no fear. don't just finish school for the sake of it. trust you gut. always.
15 yearoldme: I can't leave things unfinished. I just CAN'T.
30 yearoldme: deal with it.
15 yearoldme: anything else "I need to know"? heh
30 yearoldme: this is serious
15 yearoldme: well, you show up and tell me to forego good education and encourage me to settle for mediocrity. I might be only 15, but I can tell good from wrong already.. why can't you just tell me to study harder or something like that? it really scares me that I might become a person who embraces mediocrity. I have ambitions, you know.
30 yearoldme: I know you do. that's why I'm here.
15 yearoldme: why don't you just tell me what men am I gonna meet? that should be a more useful information! ha!
30 yearoldme: I just want you to realize that you need to have a clear goal and work for it without wasting resources. it's a competitive world, kid. you need to be efficient.
do you want to do like brother or sister? work your way up? then don't even bother going to college, pack your bags and leave for McLand now. don't think of doing it ten years later, when you're all messed up and they have their own families, they just won't handle a twenty-something "troubled kid".
do you want to go McLand without being a burden to them? do you want to go to grad school there? then you need to have a top of the class certificate, it's up to you, go to fancy peruvian college and drive yourself crazy, or go to easy peruvian college and work hard without going insane. Ivy league is hard to score, even if you become nerdy enough to get those qualifications.
do you want to stay in Peru and make a successful career? resignate to live with you dad and his rules for quite a few years, success does not happen overnight no matter how fancy your college is. you'll still have to work hard. fabulous job positions drop from heaven only to those who were excellent students. everyone else will have to fight each other like crazy. and the sooner you jump into the labor pool, the better. don't, I repeat, DON'T wait until you're finished with college to start looking for a job. don't do it for the money, I know you don't need it, do it for your résumé. you'll want to kill yourself when you're done with college and all the good jobs require at least 3 years experience from a 23 year old graduate (with good if not outstanding academic record, by the way).
15 yearoldme: wait a minute, why did you say "don't think about doing it ten years later"? college education doesn't take 10 years, but 5.
30 yearoldme: you really don't want to know the answer to that...I'll just say it's going to be a rocky road.
15 yearoldme: now, I'm all confused. all three of those options sound good to me. can't I make this decision later? I'm scared. I'm not good at making decisions.
30 yearoldme: I know that. but it's important that you think about it now. you tend to think that time is elastic. and it's not.
15 yearoldme: ..are you happy? you look kind of sad.
30 yearoldme: I'm just tired, I guess. It's been a long trip. And I kind of need to be going back. I have to work on something..
15 yearoldme: what?
30 yearoldme: my grad school thesis.
15 yearoldme: so you DID go to grad school! why don't you tell me the good stuff? I was worried you were all fucked up!
30 yearoldme: well...
really, I gotta go.
15 yearoldme: no, I want to know more...
30 yearoldme: but it all might change, don't you see?
15 yearoldme: ok, one last question then. and you can go.
30 yearoldme: fine..
15 yearoldme: if I change our life, don't you fear losing all the people you've met because of it?
30 yearoldme: yes, of course.
15 yearoldme: so?
30 yearoldme: I guess I'll never know I lost them. I mean, right now I don't know who I've lost for not following a different path. still, I know it sound cold and awful, but it's sad. yes, I'm worried about losing dear people.
15 yearoldme: ok. go home now. whatever that is. heh.
30 yearoldme: (brief smile and walk away slowly)
30 yearoldme: (coming back, doubtful) hey...
15 yearoldme: what's up?
30 yearoldme: when you get the chance, just kiss J****. don't hesitate. don't think. just do. when you get the chance, sleep with G****. don't hesitate. don't think. just do. when you meet C*****...
15 yearoldme: I know, kiss him and sleep with him, don't hesitate. don't think. just do...
30 yearoldme: no, no. RUN away from him. fast.

sound of time travel device approaching:

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miércoles, octubre 4

rain down on me

Cuando el agua cae como una cortina viva por mi ventana, me dan ganas de hablar. No hablar sola porque eso lo hago todos los días, sino hablar con otro ser humano. Es como si las gotas precipitándose al suelo desde las nubes crearan música y ella me hipnotizara. Y entonces dejo de ser un prototipo de introversión y me provoca exteriorizar el dictado interior de pensamientos. Y estos son muy triviales, muy dispersos, pero salen así, eyectados, como corcho de champagne destapado con poca elegancia.

Un día, cuando era chiquita, me puse a hablarle al jardinero. No sé qué le contaba, pero recuerdo que hablaba tanto que el tipo me dijo que me callara. Qué atrevido. Lo gracioso es que yo no lloré, solo me quedé parada ahí, confundida. No se lo conté a nadie.

El viernes pasado volví a tomar el autobús que me lleva a las clases de la maestría. Tengo la tesis pendiente, como una vieja deuda que no sé cómo pagar, pero que no me deja dormir. Llegué temprano y soporté estoicamente toda la clase que es una especie de cafetería académica, donde el tema principal de conversación es el proyecto de tesis, y donde se aceptaban algunos paseos por las ramas de la política, religión, y otras (ramas) más lejanas.

Luego fui a buscar unas cosas que me envió mi prima (la de los besos de moza) con una amiga suya que vino a Buenos Aires y al salir del hotel, me equivoqué y en lugar de volver por donde había llegado, me fui en sentido contrario y me perdí.
Mientras caminaba errante por las calles, con medio kilo de turrón en la mochila, y bajo la luz de media luna, pensaba en lo mucho que odiaba tener la brújula interna malograda, el dispositivo de sociabilidad destruido; en lo harta que estoy de tener que vivir con tantos instrumentos básicos de supervivencia descompuestos.

Hoy me he pasado el día en la cama. Escribiendo cartas y hablando de cualquier cosa. He hablado tanto que me he quedado como vacía. O será que ha dejado de llover.

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