#62 Post-data stories and uneventful days

The small details is what matters

The small details is what matters

My dear aliens, what can I say today if my life consists on being recluded between four walls of a hostile environment surrounded by torturous theories and heavily coloured sheets. Nothing. This post has no purpose, no reason to be, no content, no nothing. I apologise for my failure but as my promise stand, I want to report to you on this day and give you something.

I have no words. I am speechless. I’m sorry. My life is boring.

P.S.: At least let me give you an story.

I called him from the hospital. It wasn’t anything serious, I just fell over abd twisted my ankle. You add my inexistent tolerance to pain and it results in me desesperately calling my boyfriend, crying and begging him to come to me. It wasn’t such a big deal, but apparently I made a great freaking job in scaring him and now I was heartfeltly regretting the consequences. Damn.

We got home and after leaving my stuff on the side of the door, he left and went directly to our bedroom and I have yet to see anymore of him.

I open the doow to our bedroom slowly, curious of the why of his reclusion, already feeling that it had to do something with me but too frightened to ask; or knock on the door and expose myself yo his rejection, for that matter. The room is bright with the afternoon sun and our romm seems just like usual, a  little messy maybe but that has nothing to do with the man lying on his belly, with a pillow effectively blocking any sight and his hands clenched over our beautiful bed covers. 

I walk over and sit down next to him, putting a hand in the closest patch of skin I can find and feel his warmth immediately. It doesn’t calm me down but it helps because he is here. I feel I should be grateful that he hasn’t stormed out, even though I do not quite understand how we got here.

I don’t speak because I don’t want to and because I don’t get what are we doing here, why are we feeding each others sore moods in this precise moment, or why we are upset, or over what. Tom is not one to offer deep talk and so I know this is going to be long and exhausting, and because I don’t want to be, because I love this man, who has yet to face me, so much, I don’t want this waful day to turn back like that. 

An hour. 

An hour and  a half.

Almost two hours.

– You scared me.

– What?

– You twisted your ankle and called me as if you were about to die. Are you crazy? I almost lost it thinking you were at risk, that something happened to you, you know…

I run over every fucking terrying scenario of you… I though you…

Silence

– And you just twisted your ankle.

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In the rain – Too dark to see the drops

Hello there…

… I think I am back. Maybe.

It has been an awful amount of time since I last wrote anything here. Damn me. But I am back for a while and with new hopes and illusion, though no ideas on how to translate those into posts. So patience is required my friends, or click unfollow. Please do not. 

So, first I have few things to say.

1) I can now confirm what multiple times suggested in this blog: I will be a semi-permanent individual in the USA for a little under two years. I have been accepted in the Graduate School of a university that for safety reasons I probably should not mention but that I cannot promise that you will not get to know by other means or hints in oncoming posts. Also I will be something that is unknown for is inexistent in my country yet very interesting and also daunting, a Teaching Assistant.

1.5) If you want to know about that in future posts, hey just say it!

2) I am sometimes terrified, sometimes excited, sometimes overwhelmed, sometimes fed up with the prospects of becoming a semi-permanent individual in the USA.

3) Fuck you burocracy.

4) Life is still hectic and I still cannot cope with it.

5) I am about to graduate and I honestly can’t wait. I will miss the people though.

6) My eyes are open, I can see, but can I act?

7) Final remark: keep your voice and use it. Say whatever you need, as loud or quiet you may want it to be, say, talk, speak, do it.

One day you might find yourself in the middle of a fist of agonizing cries that will mute your voice. And by the time you are done crying, a deathly weakness upon your bones will trap your voice in the depths of your silence.

8) I almost wrote your instead of you’re. I want to cry…

9) I discovered hockey. I am an expert of hockey now.

10) Bye

Bye!

Love and those things that only live in movies

This morning it struck me. I heard lots of times how unrealistic the love depicted in movies/shows or whatever animated platform is, how there is no such thing as the perfect man who understands you and knows everything you need, in the exact second you need it, the man who despite knowing that dirty little secret that is eating you inside out, still has your back and won’t ever leave you, the man who even though a long time ago was a playboy or a bad boy, that changed the moment he met you (apply these

we could all use a loyal friend

Credit: end post

to the female characterization). And I guess it is true, there is no such thing though I guess I am still looking for the closest thing to that. However, there is something else that is as unrealistic: loyal friendship.
As far as I remember I have been worried about other people’s looks and words directed towards me, it is so that I am now to asume that that is a fact about my personality. I look around, lets say to my friends, and I love them but it is nothing like those in the movies. I have no one to whom I am absolutely open. It is not like I don’t try or want to because I find myself blurting things I thought I would not say to no one yet I also do not tell the truth or say what is wrong when the questions are asked, so technically I am not 100% forward to none of my friends and certainly, when I am done I never ever pick up the phone and ring them, I simply do not do that.
By norm I don’t talk about people, my usual response to someone talking shit about others is a plain shrug, however there are glorious exceptions to this. Yet the thing is not what kind of behaviour I unconsciously tend to take but the fact that people talk about their friends to their backs. I’ve seen this among my lifelong group of friends, new friends, family members and their/our friends, and it keeps repeating and I don’t for a second thing that I lieva mong moraly corrupted people but that this is indeed something that everyone does.
And this little and very insecure voice inside me tells me over and over again: what happened to “I’ll love you NO MATTER WHAT”? What about the loyal, movie-like friendship?

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