About

Several years ago I opened a blog. It was in a strange time that looks like centuries ago now for me. Most of its posts are still here. All Spanish, all an experiment in which I’d put myself in a place out of the world to try to understand what was happening around me, and most of all, within myself. I didn’t know why I was doing what I was doing, but I tried to set my boundaries like this: I’m doing this to prove that no one cares, that there’s a multitude outside and that makes me invisible, just one more. Like the internet was broken and with all the information around, no one would see what I was trying to describe. I guess it has some good points about what is to be lonely, to feel misunderstood, or to be frustrated because you can’t connect with the others in the way you want. It was way more than that, most of all, pretty chaotic as the giant thunderstorm I had inside. I remember not being able to say, in the end, why I had a blog. Well, let me try to state that again.

First of all, this blog is for who can read it, and that’s something I can’t change. There’s people that I care about that will not be able to read it, not even see it. I may try to tell them, one by one, that there’s a place where I just play doing some sort of artistic approach to what I see and feel.

So, if you’re reading this, and you feel like it makes sense to you, well, this is for you. No doubt about it.

Second, this blog is for my friends, those friends that define complete passages of my life. Those who are the keepers of a part of my story. Whenever I’m writing something, or uploading something, I think about them, about how will they receive this. Sometimes even, a complete part of the blog is written for them, but they don’t necessarily now that. What you write and expose is for the others to understand and make meaningful, even if they don’t know you at all.

Third, I opened this blog again because I needed it. And that was because I needed to write to a person I loved and with who I got to the highest and deepest and darkest places. Actually, in the beginning it was a dialog, and then became a postume dialog. There were a couple of blogs , then one died, then the other as well… That made me reconsider so many things, and I’m still trying to understand it, and sometimes that’s the only purpose of all.

Nowadays it’s a mix. I’m writing sometimes because I’m sad, others, because I found something I want to describe. Sometimes I’m so melancholic that it’s painful. Sometimes I think I actually have something important to say. Some other times I’m cleaning my mind, like today.

Fourth, there’s no goal in this blog. I mean, it’s just a humble experiment. I don’t want to be a blogger, I just want to write something that makes sense to me, and that I feel it could make sense outside. Like leaving little notes in your door, you know, like those notes. I found enjoyment in doing so. It’s different than writing just to yourself, because it needs to be clearer, sharper, more colorful maybe. That process has given me a lot, and I think it’s healthy to take out the trash in some way or another. I’m shy, this is my comfort zone, but what I say still gets out and that discomfort had made me grow.

Finally, I’m writing in English and some Spanish, or both. I do this because nowadays I’m in an place where English is the official language, but my mother’s tongue is Spanish. I feel that what’s happening around me is actually in English, but inside there’s a lot of Spanish flowing all day.

Anyway, good luck trying to make some sense out of this mess!