LAST NIGHT'S THOUGHTS

This is an exercise of self-delusion, of self-conclusion, self-pollution.
I sit and wander amidst clouds.
Popcorn flowing in my eyes.
The air is airless and everyone is dressed in black.
It's the mourning carnival, but no one knows and no one says.
There are blue inquisitive lights.
Why am I here? Why do I wait?
Why does the rain kill tonight?
There is a smell and it's not so bad, but after all this is a lie.
I could just go and leave an empty place behind.
Go walk the streets, break up the fire.
Don't want to talk, just get inside.
Inside some place where wet is not and no one dies.
I have to go and close my eyes.
Not watch tonight.
Tonight not watch.
The rain is the only tragedy that I can bear and just barely, not just quite.
I want to go and learn to fly and learn to live and hide inside.
My boots are wet and they won't stand.
A small cowboy has just passed by.
He looked at me and saw me good and saw me true and then looked down.
My hair is red, my nails are red, my coat is red, the ink is red.
I could almost cry.
I have to go, away from all these feet trying to crumble me.
Have to go and have to stand.
Behind an empty seat, behind one night, the rain, the noise, the people and the fire.
I'll go inside and won't look down.

P.S Does anyone know where the faces come from?

I LOVE DEATH... CAB FOR CUTIE

"A Lack Of Color"

And when i see you
I really see you upside down
But my brain knows better
It picks you up and turns you around
Turns you around, turns you around

If you feel discouraged
That there's a lack of color here
Please don't worry lover
It's really bursting at the seams
Absorbing everything

The spectrum's a to z
This is fact not fiction
For the first time in years
And all the girls in every girlie magazine
Can't make me feel any less alone

I'm reaching for the phone
To call at 7:03 and on your machine
I slur a plea for you to come home
But i know it's too late
I should have given you a reason to stay
Given you a reason to stay [x3]

This is fact not fiction
For the first time in years



p.s. Please, when you leave a comment... sign it!!!! Most of the time I have no clue who is writing...

LET'S DO SOME LIVING

LANGUAGE IS A CHICKEN

Yesterday I was quite amused when my Semantics professor said that Language is a chicken. It can be cooked in several different ways, with several different sauces, in several different dishes, but it's always chicken.

Then, in another class, I found out she was quite right. There's always been that stupefying question, what came first? the egg or the chicken? Well, there's also such a question with language, because language change or language acquisition presuposes the pre-existence of that language. But if we go far far back, to the first people who acquired language, where did they acquire from? Was it an egg or a chicken? Moreover, this other professor also told us that because of language we are the only species that can choke on food. So, language is mortal, chicken is mortal, and you can never tell what you'll learn in any particular day.

At least now I can blame the writer's block on my being vegetarian.

REMEMBER WHEN WE USED TO PLAY

PART OF YOUR WORLD

Yesterday I got an email from Wouter with some pics... I really like this one. Although it seems that I have a gigantic head. I don't, I promise. His head was as big as mine. Photos are evil, I always said so.
I am listening to music and relaxing. Sometimes I feel almost optimistic in the mornings. It's great to meet people such as Wouter (I do hope that I am spelling it correctly), or Kyle or Sam. Be able to talk about music and do silly things.
Mad people of the world, let's unite and take over.

MEANINGLESS CONVERSATION

Hello, hello. It's Tuesday and I must inform you that I have survived. This morning I gave my first lectures at the university. They went well. Of course I made silly mistakes and my tongue kept insisting on boicotting me. Also, the students were veeeeery uncooperative. They said nothing, they knew nothing. Just one day as a professor and already I am frustrated.
However, I like it. I like the authority and the power it gives you. Specially in my last class, for the third-year students, everyone was listening and taking notes frantically.
And then, of course, something happened. The director of my department came to talk to me. She said that I could not give classes to my classmates. After all, this is my fourth year and they are in the fifth year, so it doesn't really make sense. She did allow to go on with the third years, but she wants me to report to her everything I talk with my professor, the one who's supposed to give those lectures. So, just one day, and already I am involved in department conspirations. It's crazy.
Still, I am quite content. I liked the feeling of teaching and I wasn't nervous at all. It's true that my hands did tremble, but they do it all the time now. But it was great. I wasn't afraid and I made my points quite clear... although I fear that the third-years think I am a sadist, cos I did give them a lot of material.
So, I lost two classes, was allowed to keep one, but I am satisfied with myself as a teacher. At least, and unlike the real professors, I came prepared for class, with notes and hand outs and answers. Some professors have not even come to class today. In no time, I'll be running the department. Just wait and see...

IT'S PROFESSOR OLGA FOR YOU

So... Monday. Tomorrow is Valentine's Day, depressive as usual, again alone. Actually I believe that the only Valentine that I did have someone was last year's, although of course he was in Italy and I was in England. However, it fails to stress me this year (bravo for me! I hate this nonsensical capitalistic holidays). I have other things to worry about.
The main one is that, being only 21, not yet finished with my first degree, tomorrow I begin my career as university professor. I know it's laudable and impressing. And of course I couldn't begin with the first-years, nooooo. Instead I have three classes, one of them for the third-years, the other two for the fifth-years. So, ok, I know I am enrolled in the fifth course too, although I should be in the fourth. I know I have good grades and I don't need to be ashamed of my English. I know I am a freak of nature and I do love poetry, but... how am I going to survive? I kinda believe that I won't do a worse job than the actual professor, but still... those poor students are stuck with me for their first weeks... and I am stuck with them. Crap!!
I always feel like I have nothing, no achievements, that I am not going anywhere, that there is no future for me. Then I get amazing opportunities, such as this one, and I panic. When I was a kid I figured that by the age of 21 I would be ... different. That I would know things, that I would have created something worth of praise, that I would know what I wanted in life. Does anyone ever know? How can I go into a classroom and teach about Romantic poets when I'm not sure if I have overcome my own romantic period?
Wish me luck... I'll keep you all posted on my suffering and mischief.

GOOD NIGHT AND GOOD LUCK

Last night I saw a great great movie, "Good Night and Good Luck". I think George Clooney deserves to win all the Oscars he's nominated to. It's a movie that makes you think and feel and be aware of civil liberties and the rights of the individual.
You see one of these amazing movies and then you face your own life and your own petty problems. And of course you feel out of place and ridiculous and silly.
I wonder why people always get stuck in the same situations. Why do we always follow patterns? I hate it. I hate hurting people and I hate being hurt. Why all human relationships end up in pain? Why friends can't be just friends? Why lovers can't go on being lovers? Why life messes up everything?
I wish it was simpler. I wish that distance wasn't such a big problem. I don't know what I am doing wrong.

MORE USEFUL THAN A LITTLE BOOK

So, another day in my own little world. Yesterday something interesting happened to me. I was in the Erasmus Office and I met to Belgian boys, Wouter and Michel. I spent the whole day with them, translating, guiding them around the university... We talked about music and travelling and all those things I really love. Sometimes you meet people that come from a distant place and it feels so strange that you must part, that there is so much distance between you. It brings me hope, because it means that everywhere there are amazing individuals, and I am lucky, because I have crossed paths with many of them. At the same time, it is frustating. I'd like to have them all not only in the same country or the same city, but in the same building, all living together, playing music, singing, writing, painting... A magic magic building for artists from all over the world.

VAIN LITTLE GHOST

Once upon a time there was a little ghost. She was shy and hated pictures because she was afraid that someone took her soul. And then a moody English butler appeared and he saw the ghost. And he asked the little ghost for more pictures. So she suddenly became even more self-conscious and maybe a bit vain.
So... here are some pics, for my English butler, missing in action.

DO FISH SLEEP WITH THEIR EYES CLOSED?

Day after day I wonder what do I want. What do I want from the future, from myself, from my relationship with others. Sometimes it feels like I could escape from those questions, but it never lasts. And then sometimes I feel like those questions are too much for me. Someone asked me last night what did I want from a particular situation. And I froze. Do people know what they want before experiencing it? Well, then I want magic and I want beauty. I don't want to trick myself into believing that everything is beautiful. I want everything to be beautiful. And I want magic, real magic. Again I had a bad night. Couldn't sleep, couldn't nightdream with anyone or anything, couldn't even move too well because again again again I'm sick.
And then this morning I woke up, stayed under the blankets to keep warm and safe, and then I found a wonderful email and I cried, after many dry days.
Do fish sleep with their eyes closed? Do they just float? When you turn off the lights of the aquarium do they fall asleep instantly? Do they ever suffer from insomnia?

YOU COULD BE HENRY MILLER AND I'D BE ANAIS NIN

Yesterday my hair changed. Am I pretty now? Will it be enough? I just need some calm. But I can't stop thinking about the future, what will happen next? I am terrible. I am not worth it. Keep away from me. It's not crying time. It's not time yet to give up, but maybe I should. No one is coming, so I should stop waiting. I am lost in the woods.

Look at me.



Already I am a ghost. Disappearing.

ROUTE 66 IS WAITING FOR ME

Saturday, almost one p.m. That means that AT LAST I finished my first semester. No more exams until June. That also means that now I have to tidy up my room... I can't move in there anymore because it's full of clothes lying around. I am silly. I miss those days when I woke up, took a shower, put on anything and went out... Did I ever have those days?
Now I have to wait wait wait for the decission of the Americans. Where will they send me? Last night I realized that, next year, I'll be able to make another dream come true: to drive through Route 66. So many years dreaming about it it almost seems impossible to be able to do it at last. I know that it can be done in just a few days, but I'd like to spend a couple of weeks on the road, with some friends, stopping in towns to have pancakes, taking pictures of all the states we cross, fighting over the music we listen to in the car... My father has put a Neil Young DVD. He's wearing a Route 66 T-shirt. Our fish are all watching the concert without moving.
I feel almost optimistic today.

What do I want to write about.... Don't know. At last I am not a pauper anymore and I have survived two of three exams, which is good news. I also found a professor to sign my recommendation form and it is quite sunny outside.
Now, on the other hand, tomorrow I have an exam on US history, which, whatever the stereotype, is quite an extensive subject. I have been studying, but not nearly enough, and I still have to write a short paper on a US film. Moreover, I will have to wait at least one month until I know anything about next year. I mean, yes, the Spanish commitees have all selected me, but now the decision rests with the Americans. I do hope they send me to a liberal state. I don't want to be forced to shut up and silence my opinions.
I guess procastinating. US History is really really interesting, but I am afraid to finish the book I am reading and realize that, despite how much I might have enjoyed, I know absolutely nothing for the exam. A miracle will occur, I hope, as it sometimes does. But I do hate waiting for it. I hate waiting in general, the suspense, the doubts, the uncertainties... No patience whatsoever. And I am going to become a professor???