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wait for me at the end of the world, my life ...

photo: Quiet Flight , Denis Grzetic

Gilles Lipovetsky says we live in was vacuum where what prevails is the ephemeral-and-twitter said before, nothing lasts in vogue more than a few minutes. Our life passes in the midst of the incessant din of information served to excess, disorder and often flippantly. So much suffering a barrage of information, which we almost never learn what really matters -Usually little, but what sells . The same murder gringo teenager in a school, the downfall of the despot to cuddle yesterday and today to be useful that vile waste thrown into the depths of the sea. Yet another evil thing uttered by our leaders, the details of the downward spiral of man found in the bed of a woman who was not his ... or another man who also has a wife. For this to sell, feed the curiosity of the audience to the newspaper more serious and decent make mockery of the fallen, having no qualms about eight columns decorate the photo was taken just at the moment as a sort of Damocles sword of the media was knocking off his pedestal. And so ... every day. As if it were a drug, the endless production of gossip is creating the need for higher doses of scandals. And while the media scandals one another and feed our morbid curiosity, the things that matter happen unnoticed because their blood does not splash or glows yellow, and therefore does not sell newspapers or occupies the main note of the main news.

But if for any eventuality, you can always arise, there was no bloody good sexual gossip that always blow up ... We will announce the end of the world. Of course, never missing a stubborn and clueless (me) who knows where to go for little and not be aware of the approaching end of the world, as announced by a Gringo fundamentalist who was kind enough to ensure that the end of the world would occur May 21 (not 2012, as the prophecy says maya). And that was enough for the fanatic religious and paranoid quack-infect a large number of people. One reads a letter and first thing he asks is how can you have people who not only believed, but to give him money? [Here you can read something about it: end of the world and left us planted ]

Still, as the prophecy was for bad jokes, teasing and some other great tweet , a mentally playing with the possibilities of who, where and how to spend your last day ... if you could know the date and exact time-final final. The end of the world so close and one without doing the necessary. Without knowing more places, more books read, seen more movies, more and better loved. Going to the bat before he said, written and done so many things I had planned, without having made so many dreams.

As I write, read press releases that talk about who prepared to wait for the start of the end of the world like the new year in question. I read and think of myself that I learned to walk somewhat uninformed of the end of the world almost to the day before and is therefore no chance I had to buy, let alone a bottle of Dom Perignon ... not even for a red panties enjoy the end of the world with sick passion. I mean, yellow favoring money ... and why. The only thing I thought was a desirable scenario for the final time: the sea ... to say goodbye world by the sea ...

Jim Morrison sings ; this the end my only friend .. .

The May 18, 1950
is going to end the world.

communion, and instructs Confess your soul

to the mercy of God the Father

and ask the Virgin to pray for us .
This told me several people.

waited May 18 earthquake,

the deluge of fire, the atomic bomb.

Obviously, it was not nothing.

Other dates for the end of the world.

world Weekend

© José Emilio Pacheco

** ***

"I do not care what is the wrong move you make falling over my body "Marguerite Yourcenar

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GOOD SHEPHERD CHURCH OF CHIAPAS Acacoyagua visit us today

Today May 13, 2011, we visited the Church of the Good Shepherd Acacoyagua municipality, Chiapas, Mexico. the wonderful people of Christ, the servant is grazed by Dagoberto Cruz Antonio. Evangelizing your participation in the youth of the Church Pastor Elbuen, performed a play called Goliath and David Christian, also Pariticiparon the Christian clowns, Pancho. Panchito Panchon and work with Daniel in the lion's den. the game of marbles and balloons. They were exposed

children happy with the clowns they played, they were preaching and singing. For his part, Pastor Dagoberto said Antonio Cruz, Face of God that is a magnificent work blessed by God Almighty. All members of the Church who accompanied Pastor Dagoberto on this visit were very happy to see the joy on the face of God under who surrendered to the joy and Joben particiopacion of the Good Shepherd. Also shared tamales and soda.
God bless all congreacion Acacoyagua the Good Shepherd of Chiapas, on his visit to the Face of God. May the Lord shower his blessings on each youth ministry of this congregation so blessed that we were happy with their blessed children's program. Christ loves you and so do we.

To Practice Acupressure

El gallego y el portugués

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'starter Alexandrian' lost in translation **

" That black-smiles from the small window of the tram is like Mme. Lamort said.
"It is not possible, because in Paris there are no trams. In addition, the tram's black in no way resembles Mme. Lamort. Quite the contrary: it is Mme. Lamort who resembles that of black. In short: not only is there no trams in Paris but never in my life have I seen Mme. Lamort, even in portrait.
"You agree with me," he said, because I do not know Mme. Lamort.
"Who are you? Should introduce.
-Mme. Lamort "he said. ¨ And you?
-Mme. Lamort. "His name keeps reminding me something," he said.
"Try to remember before you reach the tram.
"But you just said no trams in Paris," he said.
-I had not when I said it, but you never know what will happen.
"Then let us hope because we are waiting."


[Pizarnik, A Memorable Story ]




**** **
** return as

"I do not care what the faux pas that makes you fall on my body" Marguerite Yourcenar

Denis Milani Promo 39

Sitting in the viewing room for passengers in transit without a visa to enter the country, Peter and his younger brother is the spitting image of homelessness. Small size and boyish face, but seriously, Pedro does not look nearly 17 years listed in your passport his brother five years seems smaller than that age. Despite going alone and not speaking the language, did not seem scared. Both passengers are more serious and quiet of the room, populated almost entirely by American migrants restless and noisy. The brothers barely speak, only Peter directs some words to his younger brother while trying, unsuccessfully, to placate his disheveled laughters, perhaps not despair as they await the arrival of his turn for interview with immigration officials. Beyond the few words exchanged with her brother, Pedro remains deep in thought, perhaps thinking how amazing it is that that very morning was still on their land, Chalatenango, Republic of El Salvador, and now is in that room at Miami International Airport, on a scale due to meet his mother. Eighteen months without seeing her. Eighteen months since she left in search of a better life, leaving them in charge of his grandmother. A little while, my children, had promised his mother, only a little time, as with the money to pay the ticket for the trip you . And yes, those eternal after eighteen months, so they were traveling to meet him. His first start of Chalatenango and plane ... ... and to go abroad (perhaps not to return to his people, as said Grandma tearfully when fired). Entertaining in your thoughts, and 'comb' to his brother, Pedro did not feel the long waiting time before their turn. But already they were calling ...

-After greeting, Peter looks at the identification of the woman before him and read his name: Lucia Gomez - name that does not sound like gringo , thinks boy with relief. [Her mother probably warned them that they would play a Cuban official, but if not they would put a translator.]

-Lucia shortens the courtesies and start the questions, obvious, non-aggressive by themselves but seasoned with a tone of arrogance accentuated by the size of the woman whose hand remains a huge security officer and heavily armed. Enough to intimidate the kids, more to Peter than his brother, too young to know of intimidation:

- Why travel without visa? Why travel alone you and your brother were minors? Why with so few possessions? Why not bring a return ticket? How is them travel as far without taking hardly any money? Why ...?

Question sprung one after another, without giving the boy time to think before answering. At the blast inquisitive, Peter tries to remain calm but the look and the imperative tone of the woman nervous. Still, mentally reviewed her mother's advice and answers all predating the Lady :

- Lady: Do not bring money because we will reach my mom, few of our belongings because my mom said just bring our best clothes, travel without a U.S. visa because the embassy did not give us, just bring one-way ticket because that was that my mom and sent us ...

As advanced questions, the tension grows and the boy's voice is becoming less and less audible, almost a whisper trembling, in sharp contrast to the harsh and impassive expression on his interrogator. Pedro sweats anxiety and anguish, as if he felt that the long-awaited meeting with his mom is diluted through the bureaucratic red tape and the arrogance of the Cuban employed. But suddenly, unexpectedly, Lucia interrupted the questioning and, annoyed, muttering something inaudible before leaving in a hurry, not without warning to Peter that not even think about moving there. As if the boy could. The poor, now it looks scared, almost desolate. Eternal Ten minutes later she returned with a large woman who looked like Boss. Although he speaks quietly, it is obvious that the Chief draws attention to Lucy, who remains silent. After a few minutes, the chief interrupted his monologue to address poor kids in English. After briefly reviewing their IDs to the chest, their passports and plane tickets, the hurry commends the boarding gate as far and it is almost time for your flight to Madrid .... The brothers seem so confused and relieved when they leave hurriedly in the company of great women and other armed guard, leaving behind Lucia whose stony expression has transmuted into a hassle free. And while I, who have witnessed the tense interview [at first quietly and then brazenly, to the point you have closed the book I read while half listening half] resist the urge to help (though perhaps open your gone worse), I also about to leave the room to board my flight to Santo Domingo de Guzmán. Too bad I will not have to deal with Cuban ... because I did bring my return ticket, booking an expensive hotel paid by the academic institution that invites the course to which I, as well as the constancy of it, fed dollars for orders my friends and an overwhelming desire to put the Cuban that ... in place. Everything. Less ... visa ... it being December and little time with the course I found out I could not remove ...

*****

"No I care what the wrong move to make you fall on my body "Marguerite Yourcenar

Short Term Side Effects Of Syphilis

speaking of ridiculous, heat and imagination ... keep

imagination dear

Speaking of ridiculous, heat and imagination ... do want to get on a hunger strike at the gates of the Russian embassy to see if Comrade Putin takes pity on me and invited me to spend some time in Siberia. Just as this heat wave passes, and certainly not in a Gulag * /. The trouble is that even corny as it is, I have a sense of the ridiculous that prevents me from going that far. Said a friend (who had not read Cioran) that ridicule more than once in life was something almost-inevitable. And to this fact, I had better enjoy it, avoiding subsequent self-recrimination, "thinks it will Bear your life, so Gózalo. "I guess throughout my life I've become more of a bear, but right now I remember, in particular penalty, the dance of mothers day in elementary school. Few things stressful for me. At an age when they know the meaning of the word stress, and had highly developed sense of the ridiculous, and teachers forced me to dress in these costumes and then reloaded dance in front of all the students together by their mothers, was more than my young human could resist. And that was my nemesis first through sixth grade. I think with that I took a good step in the atonement of my Further sins

Heat disturbs me mood, psychomotor performance, neuronal responsiveness. After a long walk under the hot sun, I feel my neurons cake, was stunned, is dormant. That if they could, once and went to sleep. How hot! But I will not complain ... much. Yesterday I read that somewhere in the Sonoran desert temperature reached 45 ° C and we in Mexico City with 30 ° C and we can not.

The imagination, the mother of invention , stimulus needed but these tend to be capricious and given to hide, if not scarce. Or maybe not in short supply, not just a fish in a timely manner. Sometimes I like to invent and relate it shamelessly as happened Of course, I mean no experiential accounts of fictitious. Invent travel, love, lived situations, and presenting them as real. Telling me wandering the streets of Samarkand, as if he really was there. In "God is round" Juan Villoro account the exploits of a football reporter for the Brazilian World Cup in France. According Villoro, the man in question made him much imagination to their stories ... that needless made him to be on the stage (spent more time at Galeries Lafayette in Saint Denis Stadium) during the 'live broadcasts'. But instead of hating him, his colleagues ended up with his unbridled admiration inventive ability and passion with which narrated events ever witnessed. I do not remember what Latin American writer said a well-told story, "means" of events that happened not so worthy of admiration as one who has experienced something like this never happened. Lately I have thought much about it, in inventing such a story and present it as real. But at the last moment I regret, I think too much dishonesty on my part. So I will have no more to follow counting my ramblings for what they are. Without selling half truths far. Nothing came to tell you about my walk through the Sahara desert during the recent week Santa, accompanied by half a dozen men incredibly sexy and hot Maghreb. Sorry to disappoint. That does not tell you.

J J J

* / occasion the British royal wedding, a Mexican girl, apparently educated kitsch of Hello! and Televisa telenovelas had the idea to put on a hunger strike outside the British Embassy ... in demand to be invited to the wedding of the year . [Obviously, the British said no to this nonsense]. That level we are in Mexico.

-

********

Postscript: (That happens when you do not write of course). When I said that embarrasses me up stories, do not talk fiction . I write fiction. What I mean is to invent and to pass off as real-life experiences in first person, a series of events, from the more fortunate to the most terrible. To sell as their own, and true, false facts in stories real, not fictitious. Of course I can invent, but this is fiction not a real story. That's what I meant: it costs me, unlike many who make no bones about it, say I did something I did not, that I Marichuy, not a fictional character invented by me, was that party and lived with X or performed that act, either heroic or absurd. Like inventing a trip to China I can to, but not to sell it as real. I hope I explained: Inventing a story is one thing, another lie. I think.

******

"I do not care what the faux pas that makes you fall on my body" Marguerite Yourcenar

How To Noc For Driving

SNSD (Girl's Generation) - Mr. Taxi (Traduc. / Spanish Adaptation)

Tokyo, Seoul, London, New York,
freedom for the world to drive tonigth.
I want to show everyone my new style.
'll show you places you've never ever seen.
Hey, fix your gaze beyond cautiously
are flying to spend with my left, im so fast

Mr. Taxi, swiftly,
At this rate nobody can reach me.
Mr. Taxi, fast, light speed I
nobody can touch me.
supersonic n hypertonic
really want to abduct me, take me away from you, Mr. Taxi
, fast.
I assure you will not be as easy as you think.

In the city the lights are shooting stars
no stopping till
final stop of the engine and the sound you will hear

soon, just do not forget, say goodbye
Hey, do not look that way I recommend.
promise that is equal to the side just to avoid


Im so sure Mr. Taxi, fast.
At this rate nobody can reach me
Mr. Taxi, fast. I will light speed
nobody can touch me really
hypertonic
supersonic n I want to take me away from abductions, you
Mr. Taxi, fast.
I assure you will not be as easy as you think.

One two three, here we go.

Freely (anywhere) can move (anywhere)
to the edge (anywhere) the universe (anywhere)
If this is my desire nerves
Why am I?
I dont know why (x2) followed with huge

I know I do not want to say goodbye (x2)

Mr. Taxi, fast.
At this rate nobody can alncazarme
Mr. Taxi, fast. I will light speed
nobody can touch me really
hypertonic
supersonic n I want to abduct, take me away your
Mr. Taxi, fast.
I assure you will not be as easy as you think.

Brussel Griffon Poodle Mix

25 de abril

Concession Retail Agreements

Photo: About silence of Nikolay Sobolev

19:30 pm It was a Holy Thursday. The action was staged inside a small church in southern Mexico City. Despite being a cloudy night and rather cool, the temple was boiling hot. Product sultry heat of the many faithful who attended the Mass, those who came attracted mainly by the recreation of the foot-washing ceremony that Jesus Christ effected the night of his Last Supper. In the heat of bodies gathered there, was added which produced the flaming candles. Both accented by low heat ventilation. Deprive a mood of mourning. Overwhelming grief. The aroma of the candles is combined with the scent of tuberose, becoming almost unbearable the-little-air. In a predominantly adult membership, and women, stood out a little girl accompanying her grandmother. For her, to whom the normal Sunday Mass 45 minutes seemed very long, at this stage the celebration of Holy Thursday and loe was unbearable. Naturally concerned, the be constrained by the silence and immobility made her prey to a greater concern. And if that were not enough, the heat and the pungent scent of tuberose the dizzy so much that needed to fan herself with the blade of the missal for fear of fainting. To see fanning, her grandmother looked disapprovingly but before I could curse him the priest called to communion, which distracted her from scolding her mind. While the vast majority of participants were willing to communicate, the grandmother decided to go to the little chapel which was attached a large image of the Dolorosa . Before leaving her granddaughter said: wait for me here I'll pray a Hail Mary the Virgin . The girl nodded and for a while remained very quiet, busy not to succumb to sleep or hunger. But the minutes passed without the grandmother returned, it seemed that would read something more than just a Hail Mary. The girl, every minute more tired and hungry, he was moved by a strange impulse and before you know it was formed after the few parishioners who still hoped to communicate. Very serious waited his turn and when he finally stood before the priest opened his mouth to receive the body of Christ and respond Amen as everyone else. Once done walked back to his bench chewing on the remains of the host ... until his view was to encounter the gaze of her grandmother, who had returned from praying at the Dolorosa and look, now, with French anger. The girl remained silent, willing to sit beside her, but this was prevented by forcing a hincarse y acto seguido, entre regaño y regaño, la guió en una larga sesión de rezos para pedir perdón a Dios por haber comido del cuerpo de cristo siendo una pecadora ... a los ochos años… pues nunca se había confesado.

Finalmente, tras varias oraciones que a la niña le parecieron eternas, la abuela consideró que la niña había cumplido con su castigo por haber comulgado sin estar preparada para ello, que de rezos y admoniciones ya habían tenido suficiente, le indicó que era hora de abandonar la iglesia. Apenas habían franqueado la puerta, la abuela her granddaughter asked why he did such thing, "Communion", to which the girl replied quite naturally: is that I have always wanted to eat host. But I do it again. I did not like. And besides, if every point that I have to say well, I think I will like to eat it. It sure do again, Abu e. Hearing his answer, unexpectedly, the grandmother burst into a loud laugh and taking the hand of the girl commended hasten the passage to come home as soon as possible at home and could tea ... because she was hungry.

- *****

"I do not care what the faux pas that makes you fall on my body" Marguerite Yourcenar

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14 de abril

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days as there was no tomorrow

Photo: paix avec le coeur in verse, Pierre Pellegrini:

words to awaken the dead,
words to make a fire, where you can sit

words and smile.

[Pizarnik]

How many times have we repeated the cliché "you have to live (kissing, love, work, believe, etc..) And there's no tomorrow "to emphasize a purpose-and to counsel," putting more substance to living? I speculate that too. And also, as mere speculation, I would say that this phrase repeated over and over again because we believe that yes it will, there will be many mornings yet. But ... what if I had not really? Lately I have been surprised spent thinking about that cliché, that could well have been coined by Paulo Coelho or any other philosopher of Luck Club. Lately I think about it with unusual frequency. In that sentence motivational and other. How would know, be absolutely certain -If it were possible, "that there will be no tomorrow, only today is not as metaphor but as a definitive time limit. Recommend to live, feel love, kiss, etc. as if no tomorrow is as easy as saying good day. The other not so much. I was never gloomy or anything. Even in these times of violence (as the title of Hollywood film, including its aesthetic gore) that live in Mexico. And suddenly, that is something that occupies my thoughts, consuming part of my time and to distract me from pleasant things like writing and reading. Not because I believe that there is no tomorrow for the world and that terrifies me the fulfillment of the according to Mayan prophecy that the world will end in 2012 and even by the collateral damage to which we exposed the citizens of this country. No. It's just not caused entirely explain. Not a proper burial idea, but one that keeps me from completely detachment with which so far had looked death. On more than one occasion I have been sick, never serious, but even feeling really bad the idea of \u200b\u200bdeath has haunted my mind as something achievable in the time available. That is, I think of it as the inescapable fact is. To everyone, without distinction of any kind, such as an expiration date default, but indefinitely. Now it's different. Now think about the need to comply with the mandate of that cliché phrase I was talking about at first. Not as a 'boost enthusiasm', but actually to live like no tomorrow because, perhaps, "do not really have ... and I'm surprised not to feel scared, although a little sad because they did not know how to do well, because too many things I want to do with the momentum that comes from knowing that there is no tomorrow ...


¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨

I had promised that after the previous post, sad and angry, write something funny and I could not keep my self-promise, for this feeling, halfway between the gloom and uncertainty, I have had right now and instead of levity occurred to me, I came to mind these disparate ideas about the uncertainty of life ...

much fun you forgive this post. Must be because of unclean scorching heat to Mexico City, caking my neurons ... when melting ...

************

"I do not care what the faux pas that makes you fall on my body," Marguerite Yourcenar

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Background of the special edition of their new album!

Here are

left a collection of wallpapers with the new concept album special edition, a total of about 18 images.

Download them here

Source: ygbigbang

Shared by MiroticWorld

> Take the credits \u0026lt;

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Big Bang special edition EP released

This week been dominated by the many teasers that Big Bang has been pitching for his special edition mini-album, and this is just a small appetizer of success that these guys win in the coming weeks.

Big Bang has unveiled its special edition mini-album complete with the song called "Love Song." As promised teasers, this is a very beautiful song, and quality heartthrob is reflected.

Here are the songs from the EP, and can buy it here .

Love Song

MiroticWorld

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Mario Soares: España y Portugal en el contexto europeo

Portugal and Spain, once freed from dictatorship to which for decades both countries were submitted, signed the same day, on June 12, 1985 - in Lisbon and Madrid respectively, joining the then EEC. They did, after long negotiations, political reasons, first, and economic order as well. To consolidate its young democracy and ensure a faster economic and social development.

Twenty-five years after that historic day, I can ensure that an overwhelming majority of the population of Spain and Portugal is not sorry at all. Quite the contrary. The transformations of the two Iberian states and civil societies have been highly positive in all areas. Gone are the borders between our two countries, relations between the two states and governments have been marked by mutual confidence and friendship , we join the single currency, the euro, both participated in the Ibero-American community and have maintained converging positions on European issues.

However, the EU has changed a lot, like the rest of the world. And, unfortunately, not always for the better. The collapse of the communist world led to the EU enlargement to the east, and the unification of the two Germanys. In 12 Member States, when we joined us, we have gone to 27: 17 of them belong to the euro zone and 10 have not joined the single currency, though perhaps rather say nine, since Poland is in negotiations, with significant advances, it seems for now to be integrated into the Eurozone.

Enlargement politically important and generous, was also used as justification for the Union, established by the Maastricht Treaty in 1992, paralyzed and subverted its institutional development, gradually, some fundamental principles of the proposed so-called Founding Countries . To cite some examples: equality and solidarity among all Member States have disappeared ; today are all more or less dominated by the Germany of Chancellor Merkel, who has forgotten what Germany due to the European Community and is now considered the owner of Europe, supported by his helpful ally, President Sarkozy, there is a predominance of the economy and finance, especially, above politics, or in other words, a predominance of the European Central Bank and German banks, although not exclusively has occurred cessation of a Europe of citizens and a political Europe federal rate, and so on.

also happens that the European Union, adding its 27 Member States is currently governed by conservative and ultraconservative 24 games and just three socialist parties in Greece, Spain and Portugal (this with a government resigned, a pending elections). Only three-and-let us realize all of call Southern Europe. Weighing in Europe and the world-we agree-based, rather than money, history and what they represent: Greece, to whom we owe our democracy, philosophy and science, Spain and Portugal who spread civilization Europe and the wider world they discovered, and were brought back to Europe a better knowledge of the planet . Not petty things, but of course, economists, and only see the money, forget the rest. And maybe that is why so often deceived ... The three states mentioned could have been planted before the demands of a Germany that threw into recession unacceptable. But they had no courage.

The financial and economic crisis that now descends upon the world, and is far from over, has not been understood well by the institutions governing the Union. As they say, "not so blind as those who will not see." Union leaders refuse to accept that neo-liberalism, an ideology, is exhausted, as happened 20 years ago communism. So refuse to consider the danger of recession, to realize that in addition to deficit reduction is necessary, in the same way, try to reduce unemployment, tremendous social inequalities in our societies and seek a new paradigm development.

If it does not, the crisis will lead to cracks that can be violent and dangerous. See the example of the demonstration that took place several days ago in London, which mobilized to 500,000 protesters, some of which were very aggressive. As happened before in Greece, Belgium, France, Italy and other countries. If Europe does not see Queen of discontent everywhere, from national governments and European institutions and the distance that separates them from their villages, it is clear that we are moving towards the decline of the European Union in a changing world and to its possible disintegration . A tragedy that is up to citizens to avoid. Because in a democracy is through the vote as the government chooses. And if governments are bad, ultimately, the responsibility rests with the citizens, who can shoot them down thanks to the popular vote.

(article published in El Pais )

Confidentiality Clause On End Of Emails

Write as if he spits up ... do not know what the mood is perfect for writing. Fewer still, what are the physical, economic / material and even more favorable geographic and / or unfavorable to do so. Some say it is in the extreme, the absolute deprivation or satisfaction, in which the writing finds its most fertile land. Namely. One wonders again and again, wandering trying to find the answers and then pass ideal. Marguerite Duras said that writing as night comes and goes as is everything in life ... no wait. She who wrote the wording of different moods. In extreme conditions. Maybe not material deprivation but of others: alcohol sick, sick with pain and loneliness. And from that perspective on life, writing was his salvation: "(...) found in a hole in the bottom of a hole in a almost total darkness, and know that only the script will save .... "

While typing this, I think different states of mind for those who move soil in one day and it overwhelms me the idea that with so many emotional swings, hardly shall find the ideal time to sit down and write without thinking about anything more than the keyboard and what I am emptying into him. a couple of nights ago I was seized with a mixture of emotions, almost agitations, which surprised me I myself know intensit. Terrible that the trigger was not something or someone close to me. Not a family member or loved one, friend etc., But heard the news by telephone. It was a story about unknown creatures, which all of a sudden put before me a complete picture, pure and without exaggeration gore, horror we currently live in Mexico. Horror that most of the Mexicans we seem not to look. As if we did not live in a country where the Federal Government (inept, stubborn and arrogant) is fighting a no-war against organized crime. No-war doomed, even if its preachers employed media and Barack Obama, Hillary Clinton, say otherwise. Mexicans, and all but try not to think about it, we are likely to swell the ranks of the collateral damage euphemism with which the President (apparently educated in the worst Hollywood movies) calls the innocent victims of his stupid non-war . The news, which may or left in the local press: "in a village near Acapulco, a young woman, oblivious to organized crime, poor, helpless as we all are unarmed, was killed along with their young children (from approx. 5-6 years). So just because some bastards they came to kill her. What kind of beast is capable of binding feet and hands to get his two children and then shot in the forehead? What the hell goes through the minds of these beings, or animals that I can call because that would offend members of the animal kingdom, which leads them to do such a thing? I do not know. I've wondered repeatedly found no answer. I guess some would say that at this stage of non-war and should not amaze me. When you have exceeded the 36 thousand dead (and counting), just in the years leading to govern-sic-Felipe Calderón Hinojosa, what are three or four more? But they are. Although nobody seems to care. [Killing a gringo agent infiltrated Mexican land and national authorities are mobilized and then give up the murderer and the weapon (coming from Texas, of course). Kill thousands of Mexicans and the authorities are worth a shit (pardon my French, but I'm not to finesse). When not in its infinite arrogance has the gall to declare that sure they (the victims) were asking for it]. The fact is that I got angry. A lot. I've never had a highly developed maternal instinct, I almost started to mourn on the phone while my father talked to me. Do not know why I was able to both the news and then the sadness came anger and, of course, impotence. Some would say that neither won anything in anger, than angry or not, will matazón as life, if you do not have relations with "criminal" nothing will happen. (You ever seen such naivete or arrogance ... so to speak). Go comfort. Those who say such bullshit, I love this idiom Argentine-I remember those who have AIDS early in the disease said that he was gay only, not the decent people , and that they "gay" it had sought- ... won by dissolute. Just the same.

So I prefer to get angry and rant before they become zombie. Sure, there to live fear, in total paranoia, then neither. Although perhaps those who live in destitution, in a dimension inhabited by flowers, butterflies and other ingredients of the world Strawberry Shortcake ... are happier than me. No. Without perhaps. Sure they are. Ignorance is bliss. Say. But since it is one or the other thing ... life goes on and the night comes, as I said the Duras, and I write my anger but not any good, just childish ... catharsis

*****

Post Scriptum. The same night that my father gave me this terrible news, I learned that they had killed seven people, including the son of Mexican poet Javier Sicilia. Within hours, a young university student spent 24 years as one of the thousands of collateral damage.

How sad the murder of the son of Javier Sicilia. As much as the murder of hundreds of children and adults anonymous. How sad this Mexico.

*****

«No me importa cuál sea el paso en falso que te haga caer sobre mi cuerpo»
Marguerite Yourcenar

Period Stops And Starts Heavy

write my rage comedy of life and were happy

La alegría de vivir , Henri Matisse (1905-06)

Mañana vuelvo con mis divagaciones, pero hoy que se festeja al arte teatral, nadie como Shakespeare para recordarnos que esta vida is a melange of comedy, drama, melodrama, noir, gore and a long list of genres, not only dramatic but also film. While we are actors, comedians as he says in French to the actor, without distinction of gender engaged. And our role is always changing: sometimes we have to be main players, other side and sometimes only part of the deal, if not mere extras. And World Theatre Day, who better than Shakespeare:

"The whole world's a stage, and all men and women merely actors. My freedom must be complete. I enjoy privileges as widespread as the winds to blow where I please, as these are the prerogatives of buffoons. "

William Shakespeare, As You like it (II, 7).

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"I do not care what the step false that makes you fall on my body, "Marguerite Yourcenar

Do You Turn Rook Piercing

Like everyone else, including poets, good and bad, hard and cheesy, "I also asked myself, I wonder every day, where do will give the unfulfilled dreams? Who is responsible for lifting and give the holy oils, before they end up lost in the confines of nothing?

Our dreams happy. The reacquainted in a park lot years later. It was seeing her and return to the days of school. We were so friendly, so close, until a bad day life (we) went and we stopped ourselves. Without reason, without litigation or through bitter disagreements. We just broke up. Life is a novel . Say. And as in the literature, the variety abound in quality and style. Some are better than others, some more complex, sometimes fun and light. Some extremely well written, some just written. A pure cliché, sometimes with different breath. There are whose prose shines on frills. While others run free of excess, almost flat. So many styles and shades. Y rather she read little, he wanted his life was like a novel. A clear of crooked and shocks. And, of course, with a happy ending. I met her when I was fifteen and she almost turned 18, new entrances to the school. Ariadne. He had reached the high school the age at which graduates normally since leaving high school instead of following the normal course of their studies had taken almost three-year sabbatical, during which he traveled , spent a year in Washington and pulled the slack. We became friends against all odds. She, outgoing, unrepentant smoker and only attending school because he had no other. I, shy, strawberry no choice but to not smoke cigarettes or chocolate-loving school and reading in their free time that she preferred going to do nothing basketball courts. And yet, even against all odds, it was she who exemplified the somewhat pejorative term 'case study as me. " He dreamed of a beautiful church wedding and wedding dress made in Italy, cottage with gabled roof and gardens full of geraniums, two kids and a dog. As idyllic as a romance novel. I can still go with it's cobbled streets of Tlacopac, south of Mexico City, where the house was located of your dreams. To hear and see the sparkle in his eyes as he spoke of the children that would be, how happy life would be with this novel, I felt a little sorry. Not for her, but by me. I never had dreams like that. Neither house with gabled roof, and two little children and less puppy. I liked (like) cats [sullen, independent, lonely and somewhat selfish, cats, and said a French poet, are so similar that is why man can only be loved or hated it. No half measures]. Much time has passed since those dreams. Much from the evening of those walks. I thought for centuries, but the day I found him, As we talked, for a moment it was like just yesterday we were walking by Tlacopac. But no. It was long ago. In another life. At least that seemed to say their naked eyes that gleam teenager. The is so changed. The least was no longer handle sports car of the year or did not live his dream house with a gabled roof. Does not have that, but a child. A beautiful child. It reminded me so much to his father (Ariadne) and told him so, to which she replied: yes, thank God my son went to my dad and not his . That's romantic, I said love me to the funny. And then, as a reply summed up what had been his life in the years since we met. So, down to the details of her pregnancy and maternity. As I was reeling off the harmful effects of economic crises in his once wealthy family, the troubles of his womanizing brother, the irregularity of death and others, I looked at remembering the past, could not help thinking that in the end, his life you, your family, it had been like a novel. Not so idyllic, only real. And the cherry on the cake in their search for dream life, full of unexpected breaks, was a man who, to put it in civilized terms, represented the antithesis of the ideal of cohabiting house with gabled roof, garden, two kids and dog. Fair who was to become pregnant. And he, as stipulated in charges of irresponsibility, he ran as he knew. But contrary to what she would have professed a few years ago, decided to become a single mother and live a life less idyllic, dreamy novel, only real and normal their own way. As for the sentence of Tolstoy's Anna Karenina in - that I like:

Families - and novels - are all equally happy. The unhappy , they are each in their own way.

**** "I do not care what the faux pas that makes you fall on my body" Marguerite Yourcenar