Jake's First Flight

Reminiscing is one of my favorite things, when I feel in the mood. Like now, sitting here alone in my room, with jere and this orange light, listening to Antony’s voice. I had the best turn to adulthood ever; turned 18 in a movie theater submerged in the world of Avatar, with blue creatures and a connection with nature and animals and intense, beautiful music, chanting in a foreign, alien language. It’s one of the best movies I’ve seen in quite a long time, sure to become a classic favorite. Even if the storyline wasn’t overly deep , clouded with clichés, it was still a great film to watch, live another life in a way only real good books can make you. As Sara said when we exited the theater, ‘’If we were about 5 years younger we would be playing Avatar like-I wanna be the girl!’’. Made me feel good, remember all the pokemon times.

And well, what can I say about this year? Too many things have happened. I had a feeling when we bathed last December in our beach, that the salt from that sea, that beach which is like a mother to us, would make good things come. Truth is the year started bad, what with all the grandma business, but she has proven everyone that she can defy nature and is now a lot better than one would expect for a woman her age. So, even if I don’t really believe it, I like to think the salt gave us all a strike of good luck.

My last months in high school were spent in a studying frenzy, with declining mental sanity, way too many laughter with Eus and, of course, all the Diego drama. I still have him in my mind a lot, sometimes more intensely than others, but I’ve grown used to having this overwhelming feeling of love inside me, because really I’ve lived with it for a long time now ( almost a year!) and it’s become a small part of me, one I wouldn’t know how to live without anymore.

Finishing high school came as a shock in the sense that, after all those years hating everyone, being a teenager and just wanting to get out of there, it surprised me how much it cost me to detach myself from the place. We all grew up, matured, surpassed our teenage-induced differences and fights and I grew fond of everyone. The other day I was walking to class and started to think of them, of seeing Coral on tv working as a reporter, having Gonzalo call me for a job at his company, talking with Africa of children and animals… it made me happy to see that really I’d forgiven them all and held no malice towards them, not even Victor. The thought of maybe seeing him 10 or 20 or 30 years from now, both adults, him having changed a lot as well as myself and just chatting in a café made me feel quite at ease. I’ve adapted to the idea of growing, moving on, leaving things behind but always remembering them, having that place in my mind to go back to, smile at the good moments, feeling embarrassment at some silly stuff I did…just, life.

Summer was incredibly strange, with Tato gone, the changes that hadn’t really solidified until it was that season. Easter was spent in a strange arrangement of me and Marina alone here, always raining, Kuroshitsuji, the bench, and it was so strange that we just accepted it as it was and had quite a lot of fun, but really it wasn’t until summer came that I realized just how much things were different. For some reason truly unknown to me I was moody most of the time, probably because all the stress of change or whatever, but I remember the holidays quite fondly and that’s what’s important. Also, finding that I could again just be with Danish without having to feel anything but comfort and calmness was quite good as well. I missed our friendship and now I find myself talking with him a lot on msn like we used to, and really I couldn’t be more happy right now.

Uni life is as good as it gets, I think, for the start of it and I’m quite content with how things are going. I’m mildly worried about the grades and stuff, but starting to mistrust myself now would be rather stupid, so I’m calm about everything. Now I only look forward to good moments with friends, with Jenny, parties, meeting new people, learning new wonderfully vet things (lol) and, who knows, finally meeting a man I can, you know, BE WITH. Lol. And if not it’s ok too. I’m just overall happy, daydreaming and City Girl and new experiences that come with the start of an adult life.

I can only conclude this with a Merry Chirstmas and, especially, Happy New Year to you all! Enjoy life :)

His silence

It's cold, all of a sudden. Bone-chilling cold. The streets are empty, dead,frozen, still, but the lamplights spill yellow over my head and the city is mirroring the night sky, in the distance.

I can't even hear my own steps. Just that sound...

It feels like home again. That sense of familiarity, when the author disappears and the character emerges, when Friday takes over my body, slowly, becomes part of the silent rumor that sorrounds me, him, us. I can smell his leather jacket, see his messy hair, hear his silent screaming in a world that was only his. Animals, silence. Everything before Sam, before life, before Explosions in the Sky.

Just me and him and no one walking in empty cities and streets and dust.

That familiar guitar is lost in the night, with everything else, and for a moment, all I see is the blaring white of bus-stop lights, yet another alternate dimension, and the trees that move even though time has left without them.

I am alone, he is alone, but our steps are confused and it makes all the difference, between the music and the cold night and the streetlamps of a wolrd that doesn't exist.

Been walking on air for the last 92 hours

I’m sitting here in this desk I’m not too familiar with watching a soft, yet violent, cloudy dawn. The mountains are mocking me; there is no more low buildings and the smell of salt. Just rainwater and streetlights and cars and crazy people scaring the shit out of me at 4.am, banging on my door and trying to get in (and I here I thought people in uni were mature, responsible adults).

It feels surreal. Summer is over but I feel like in a trance; it’s been so different. Just sitting all night out in the porch, eating thai noodles at 8.00am while watching Mushi-shi (Akatsuki no Hebi, dango and crabs), building a monster house in the sims, walks with the dogs while the sun hides behind the Mountain, and the Tree, and safari sunset.

Bon iver haunts me with images of warmth.

And yet, I can’t feel bad either. A sort of strange in-between. Trying to get to know people, suprassing my antisocial personality ever so slowly, wishing for Sara to come and to see Jenny so it will make this place more familiar. I want to tangle piano notes in the tree leaves. Some places I want to explore remind me of Cala Flores, just going around and around, up and down, leftrightleft, listening to tattoos and hoping, somewhere in the back of my mind, that I’d find him (I never did but it’s ok). Seeing him at that Vetusta Morla concert, followed by sexy blonde long limbs and dancing and a man-woman, sort of ended something. I wanted to cry, so hard. It was like realizing how much I still loved him, in a different way, and how my position with him remained the same nevertheless.

As I try to get used to all the new, small sounds my house makes and force myself not to be nervous every time I hear a lock turn in the hallway, classes go by with promises of hard study but interesting things that will make me feel better than ever, because I’ll be getting somewhere, doing something that will take me one step closer to reaching that which I’ve always wanted. I am going to give it all and become a great vet; I have confidence in myself with that, at least.

Marina and Mom have been here today, and it all feels like a dream, but having my dear catfish sitting here on my chair brought a sort of familiarity into the room that makes the music roar lower in my head. Also, there are small promises of friends, with gentle smiles from long-limbed strangers and befriending people without even noticing it.

Summer. So many things; every day seemed like the previous and next and yet it was all so incredibly different in each one that I can’t even begin to recall all the dog smiles and motives of laughter and showers and volleyball in the pool and the green of the grass and yago’s sticky love. Granada was a curious adventure of walking about without getting lost but without finding what we wanted, and yet it was liberating, just catfish and I wandering and admiring past, present beauty and getting bed-bites and laughing at waiter’s insanity and old women telling their life at 100km/h.

And now, two months have gone by! ( lol yes, I wrote this entry a long time ago and randomly saved it xD) It’s incredible, how time moves forward without waiting for anyone. My days are now filled with a new routine: going to class (drawing in chemistry, falling asleep in anatomy); laughing at the cafeteria in our break while hoping to see Wolverine (lol), getting to know everyone a little better…we take group pictures and have fun at the farm with the horses and it’s so completely different. Minds have changed, and where my sarcastic, cutting comments used to be received with frowns or glares, now there’s only laughter and comfortable situations. I also feel that I’ve changed, so much; I talk with ease to people, I’m not afraid of large groups, I want to meet new faces and never get tired of being around strangers!

I also have the pleasure of seeing a familiar face once in a while, Africa ( ‘’I thought I saw you the other day! I said to myself-I know those boots’’) and going back to La Manga almost every weekend. Being there, in my room, like always, spending the night awake with a familiar view from my window is one of my greatest pleasures now, with the sense of ‘’home’’, truly. When I can I drop by my old highschool, see everyone, have the teachers greet me and ask me how I’m doing, it also makes me very happy. And Diego, well, after some email exchanges and some crying because this feeling is sometimes too overwhelming, I’m doing good, I guess. The bad thing is that it makes me long for a relationship like that, and I often find myself imagining all sorts of meeting situations with nameless lanky men with unruly black hair, but it keeps me entertained, so it’s ok.

I also went to campo one Sunday and it helped me settle down, playing around with the dogs, taking walks, picking flowers, laughing with paloma…when night fell I sat on the porch as always listening to the Princess Mononoke OST and mamen told me-we missed seeing a light on here!. That made me think, once again, of our wondewrful summer, but I wasn’t sad at all. I just sat there studying anatomy watching chiqui walk around the house and couldn’t have felt any happier, really, even if the catfish’s presence was gone.

And now here I am, listening to Woody Allen soundtracks, trying to recall all the small details, all the strange people met on party nights, that great rock concert with Jenny and Francis or last night’s Halloween party (I thought I was going to die of laughter; it happens when men dressed up as whores do their best to entertain you).

And so life goes on. Sara will probably drop by later, like she always does, just to chat or lie down in my bed reading biochemistry books while I study and we listen to music and it’s one of the best things here, the finishing detail to make this warm room seem like home, eating ramen, watching movies and imagining doing the same thing with Catfish next year.

So yes, I’m loving uni life :D

We listen We listen with open ears And every word is a kiss is a sigh is a promise from beautiful lips…

Skinny Love

She floats and swims like the fish she is in that blue world with the rays of dawn brushing the surface of the neverstill water.

She howls and purrs and growls,wet with salt, in the sand, and shakes her glasses off, all animal energy in the night with the rumor of the sea dying out the hooting and hooting and howling.

She sings along in a beautiful voice that wasn't made for singing to the good winter's voice.

She'd rather die in fear than live on forever.

But we will, live forever, as long as that wall exists.

We will.

La terrase, wet sand y saltamontes

It was everywhere. I could only sit there, crouched, with my feet falling asleep under my legs and not being able to tear my eyes away from blinking colours and dancing people and the violent sway of Yann's hair as he pured his existence into that powerful violin, as he moved around the stage possesed by the strings of a cream-coloured guitar, as he closed his eyes and murmured in french;

et la vie

se tourne

rousse.

And it was one of those things you found yourself swimming in, the tremor of the bass caressing the inside of your head and the incessant beat of the drums sending electricity waves under your feet and I thought about everything around me, the ghosts from the past that I'm leaving behind without ever leaving them, really, and maybe dancing on the rooftops of tokyo and chocolate trails in Europe and crying in the backstore because I couldn't save another animal and some unknown man's long fingers trailing my tattoos and hearing the rumor of the sea.

And I couldn't help gasping out loud and crying as that violin, some wild animal come to life made from wishes and wood, sent dancing figures of madness behind my eyes, because in that moment only the notes existed, no biking under the heat listening to my summer playlist (My, what a good day for a walk outside), no hoping to see longish figures (even if I did and didn't feel as bad so everything will be ok); while the violin screamed and whispered, the smell of dog hair was gone with the dirt under my feet, Jack Nimble, yellow contemptuous gazes and sweating and working and grasshoppers.

It feels great to be
(musicshivercoloursdawnmuttsseasisterdreamsanimesexypunksandeverythingnice)

Alive.

Nostalgia City

Es curioso, esto que llaman tiempo. Un dia corría por el laberinto de tiendas del Hexágono con Marina y Guille, conteniendo la risa, jugando a uno de esos juegos que solo un niño pequeño puede imaginar, Bella india y los globos de agua. Al dia siguiente, tengo 13 años. El verano de Inu-yasha, el comienzo de una larga obesión. Dashboard Confessional. Solía escuchar a Vanessa-Mae en el balcon por las noches sufriendo de amor de adolescente; la lagartija que se quedo conmigo 3 noches en el techo de ese mismo balcon, inamovible; ''dar paseos’’ en la playa con Marini,o el dolor de barriga que sentía cada vez que leía un nuevo capítulo de Fruits Basket.

15. Pasamos de eso a un nuevo nivel, la ultima tormenta, creo. Jersey. Le pegue tan fuerte a ese muro de piedra que estuve con la mano vendada unos cuantos días. Recuerdo estar sentada en el suelo del pasillo y oir el beso que le dio Carmen a Danish. Donde, no lo sé. Pero todo se vino abajo conmigo, sentada en esa moqueta verde-azul. Recuerdo haber visto Grave of the Fireflies sola, llorar, por todo. Leí el Shippuuden y hablé con Francis hasta las 9 de la mañana, la primera de muchas conversaciones deprimentes en las que él luchaba por salir del agujero en el que se encontraba mientras yo me quejaba por cosas insustanciales. Pero todo paso, claro. Comiamos en the watersplash viendo la marea subir, paseamos por bosques, yo con esas botas militares de Guille que eran demasiado grandes mientras escuhaba zelda y mi mente creaba historias, que deje colgando de esas hojas verdes que olian a mar. Nos colabamos de noche en el parque, volviendo del cine a la 1 de la mañana. La última noche de danish llovió, y en la foto recuerdo que saliamos mojados pero sonrientes sobre la cama de guille, victoriosos.

Luego vino jenny. Sacó a Francis del hoyo. Yo maduré, me di cuenta de muchas cosas. Fue el comienzo de eso que Marina y yo empezamos a llamar shiver; Nochevieja escuchando a Rasputina en la oscuridad del cuarto de guille. Los veranos en el campo seguían como siempre, un anime detrás de otro. 4 de la ESO, ese año extraño en el que estabamos Francis Suso Jenny Gloria (con nuestra curiosa amistad) y yo, sintiendome por primera vez como que estaba en el instituto con amigos y no en ese pequeño infierno que condena a la oveja negra. Pero fue mejorando. El trabajo de educacion fisica, el miedo que senti cuando me di cuenta de que mi madre no podia localizarme (se enfada demasiado por eso), todas esas incontables memorias, pequeños fragmentos y detalles de cosas insignificantes que constituyen el todo.

Primero de bachiller, cambios. Gloria se fue, Jenny y Francis se quedaron atrás, pero aun así los recreos eran divertidos. Fue el comienzo de otra obesión, ese saludo de cabeza torcida con su tipica sonrisa mientras Jenny y yo esperabamos a irnos a Mandarache. Aquella mañana en la piscina, el tanga de leopardo. Las bromas de siempre. Un grupo de musica detrás de otro, peliculas, ir a dar clases de japones por las mañanas y pasar mas tiempo en la tienda de mangas que dando clase, esa tienda que tanto nos costó encontrar (te acuerdas, Jenny?). FLCL.

Ha sido todo lo que tenia que haber sido. Ha pasado un solitario año de duro estudiar pero su curiosa presencia de alguna manera suavizó esas traumaticas vueltas del campo. Navidad, en la hierba todos, mientras yo pintaba ese monstruoso cuadro de Mononoke. 8 carpetas de fotos. Semana santa sola con Marina, esa hora mítica de reirnos sin parar, un ataque detrás de otro. O ese dia en el que Marina dormia frente a mi en el banco y yo escuchaba Eluvium y Grails y Deaf Center y oía la lluvia contra el tejado del patio y escribia un poema sobre ese hombre encerrado en el vientre de una ballena, inventando mundos de gotas frías sobre asfalto inventado, hombros desnudos.

'’Te cuesta irte, eh? Eso me dijo Diego la última mañana que pisé el instituto, y tiene razón. Han sido grandes momentos, explorando con la bici por esas mortales cuestas hacia el faro, cala-flores, Lázaro y Pedro con sus bailes de locura y Kiki corriendo mas que yo a pesar de estar coja. Han sido incontables puestas de sol en la salinas, ese Septiembre de amaneceres, peliculas y aguacates rellenos, con Johnny mirandome desde la esquina de estas paredes azules. Tommib resonando en la creciente claridad del dia. Eus, y su locura, haciendome reir en las clases de Física (suicidio académico). Francis y Marina, apoyándome de esa manera que solo los buenos amigos pueden, estando sin estar, riéndonos en la playa por cualquier tontería. Flotar en el mar, observando las estrellas con el caracteristico dolor en las piernas, sintiendo las dos puntas de fuego de sus cigarros en la orilla.

Síndrome de abstinencia. El día de la despedida fue a la vez feliz y triste, como todo adiós. Deambulaba de un lado para otro, cámara en mano, mientras la gente me gritaba que parase ya con las fotos, de broma, y yo reía mientras disparaba otra. Como la treta de tirarle el kiko a Diego solo por capturar su expresión en el tiempo. Voy a echarles de menos, a los profesores, a Juan y su risa, la malicia de Jose Ángel, las frases insultantes de Diego para analizar, jorge siguiéndome a todos lados, las bromas de Jaime y Deivid, las conversaciones sobre cine japonés con Dori, Toñi, los gritos de Pedro Julio, el curioso baile de Mari nieves y la tensión de las clases de Miguel. La cena tampoco fue mal. Me reía por nada aquella noche, borracha con una copa (que barata eres), siguiéndole a todos lados, caminando rápido hacia el famoso Zeppelin, la segunda casa de Francis, mientras intentaba mantener mi equilibrio sobre tacones que no estoy acostumbrada a llevar, dejando a los demás atrás; el sutil olor de su coche-huevo, ese camino oscuro de derrota. Nunca me ha gustado llorar delante de nadie mas que de las sombras de mi reino, Nosferatu.

Y hasta aquí hemos llegado. Puedo ver la ventana reflejada en la pantalla del pequeño portátil, y me da la sensacion de que podria estar en cualquier parte del mundo porque sólo veo el cielo, amarilloazulnaranja. Y no pasa nada. Será un buen verano, con el rumor de las olas, mis paseos, el sol saliente en el pantano, voleyball y las noches con la ventana abierta en la tranquilidad de mi habitación, soñando despierta con Japón, los brazos tatuados de Jenny en la muchedumbre o comer sushi con él en mi pequeña casa al lado del mar, cuando él tenga el pelo blanco, para que yo pueda mirarle y sonreir ante ese sentimiento que Ginko creó sin arrepentirme de nada.

No digo adiós. Digo gracias, por todo, porque es mi vida y amo cada segundo de ella, amo a cada uno de vosotros, nakama, a mi padre con sus graciosas bromas de mal gusto y mi madre con su amor pegajoso, la abuela, gritando ''pero qué haces, tonto mierda!!!'' a la tele cuando ve el fútbol; las primas, esos pequeños animales inolvidables, Guille y sus expresiones,y por supuesto, Marina, mi pez-gato, a quién quiero más que todos los amaneceres en el campo escuchando mushi-si.

Viviré, y sonreiré para mí misma cuando piense en todo esto, cuando os vea a todos en esa pared de Vida y recuerde miles de pequeñas memorias, fragmentos.

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