Is resisting a protest?

I grew to hate every newspaper header.

I set them on fire, burning flames, ashes.

Humanity, where did it go?

Do you mind stepping in?


I wonder what kind of puppets are we.

If I am the promise of tomorrow

Where do I stand today?

What does this convey?


I want to destroy my crystal sphere, fear.

Tear. Veer. Clear the gear.

Done with words and formalities,

those cannot stop fatalities.


How does one modify the course of History?

You can resist, but the crowd will shape the journey.


Comentarios

Publicar un comentario

Entradas populares

My therapist wants to know about my relationship with my country

From the other side of the Atlantic, nine thousand eighty kilometers away, I open my eyes and I look at the ever-grey sky. I am exhausted, my soul hurts, the disconsolate ache of today. I struggle to cope with the pain that breaks me from the inside, unable to keep scrolling down the news that never fail to horrify. Damned headers, promoting the way she died. She did not die, it was a femicide. My mouth is shut in solidarity, the knot grows in my throat; I disappeared for a day, but ten women in México won’t make it back home. Lives, aspirations, dreams, plans; everything abruptly cut. How to modify the course of History? Attempts to figure out my place in this big world and how to start to clean up this mess. I saw the suffering, I experienced the pain. But I believed in resistance, I believed in change. I was brought here on a mission: Education is a force to unite nations for peace and it’s ironic that this stirs in my heart urges for chaos &
Leer más

You are all the colors in one, at full brightness.

If you were wondering what that phrase means, well, it is my favorite quote from my favorite book so far, "All the bright places". It basically says that when we are in love, we think of our special person as something that adds up a hundred colors and sparkles to our life. Just as how white light is created. I must admit that even when we were no longer together and I was having a bad time trying to understand what happened between us, even when I wouldn´t like to say it, you were the only person that I could think of. Because my sweet boy, you changed my life forever. I´m half asleep right now, but isn´t it true that when you are almost sleeping that you experience emotions at their highest sensation? If that is true, I hope I can free myself through my words. Because hiding them won´t make them go away. I have been thinking a lot about my decisions during the past months. I thought about my unfinished book and about all those pretty tiny stories that lay in m
Leer más

People I hardly knew but still think about

Two Mexican ladies at the airport, waiting with me for the snow to calm down. The man standing outside of Walgreens, wishing me a good day. The frozen yogurt woman who once visited Puebla. The grandmother I greet every Thursday on Hinman. The funny boy in my high school, his jokes and compassion. The man at the metro stop who genuinely believes aliens walk among us. A guy working at Subway, he always gives us a free cookie with a smile. The creepy man who followed me for a block asking for my number. The Mexican lady selling tacos, and her arguments with her coworker. The real estate agent who showed me my first grown-up apartment. The kind and artistic girl in performance arts and creative non-fiction class. My kindergarten teacher, who I discovered to be my cousin once removed. My latine mentor and her daughter. The guy who withdrew early decision to take care of his young brother.
Leer más

Ojos de ópalo, corazón de ónix

No planeaba que al llegar la primera noche del año me sentaría a escribir esta carta más bien esporádica que sin embargo es una de las cartas que escribo en uno de los momentos de mayor lucidez en mi vida. Pero aquí me encuentro, cerrando la cortina morada que cubre mi cama. Sí, la cortina que ha sido confidente de todas nuestras conversaciones y tonterías de después de las once, la que guarda los cuentos que contamos y es testigo de los planes que no se concretaron. Pero tan pronto como abrí una nueva hoja en mi diario, supe que esta carta no sería fácil de escribir Me he mentido a mi misma. No sé si es la esperanza de que cambies, o cuál otro disparate impulsa esta falta a mi integridad. Pero lo hice, y tal vez me cansé.  Así que me senté, me coloqué una manta en los hombros, y asumí la aflicción que me acongoja. ¿Desde cuándo? Ahora que empiezo a ser completamente honesta conmigo, creo que desde hace dos inviernos. Hoy ya no me excuso más, porque mis justificaciones son la mayor des
Leer más

Saying goodbye.

My sister asked me if it was you that this song reminded me of because lately, I've been playing it on repeat. And yes, I picture you with the sound of the melody... But if she only knew that this love isn't going anywhere anymore. It stops at a closed door. Even though you promised that the door would always be open. It's locked now. Someone else has the key. Sometimes I come back and I sit outside, where there's no love to take. I listen carefully, but there's no sound. I call your name, but there's no answer. Sometimes I forget who the door belongs to, or even how I stumbled upon it in the first place. I'm sure you can imagine how much it hurt me: You knew me a little too well. Moving on is always so hard and empty. You are in love and out of the sudden you are pushed aside. Outside and alone, you and your thoughts. What went wrong? Why did it end like this? It was more complicated than I thought love could ever be (perhaps because it was a f
Leer más