We're closed, come back later.

 So... This is where it ends. I'm aware that I wasn't here as much as I wanted, but I did my best. So many things happened in this semester, for the country and for me. Right now I'm doing some research and a lot of dates, knowing that on april 2nd I will be flying to a new place where I hope I can achieve my hopes and dreams. I'm not entirely happy, as anyone could be if they were in my place, because I feel that I'm going to leave so many things here. So many friends and half of my family.

  I'm sad because my grandpa couldn't make it, but at the same time I'm happy because I know  he wouldn't like this current situation and that If he were here, it would be worse. I miss him so much, his laugh, his jokes, his stories, even his grumpiness. But I know he's in a good place right now and he can rest from all those deseases he had in life.

  Talking about my journey, I'll leave here my very best friends in life and my cute, grumpy, bad-joker boyfriend, who's going to Portugal on may 11th. I also leave my mom and my brother, my needy cat, grandma and grandpa from my dad's side and my aunt and cousin. I'm moving to Argentina with my grandma (I'm now my grandpa's replacement) and we are going to live with my aunt and her family. We are going to La Plata in Buenos Aires province, and I'll try to work and study, and well... To have a normal life.

  I'm currently saying goodbye to absolutely everything, and several of my friends gave me as a goodbye gift some tattoos that were made for me recently. I don't really know what is going to happen next, but I can say that I'm really excited for this experience and I really want it to be awesome. I'm trying my best to not to think about the sad parts of migration, and I know new things, bad and new, are waiting for me in this new journey.

 I don't promise anything, but I'll try to keep writing here about everything that happens.

 For now, I'm done here.

 Farewell.

Maybe I'm a writer

Here is another story that I wrote just because, it's called: "... Y reír será un lujo que olvide cuando te haya olvidado..." (It's a part of a song named Deseo de cosas Imposibles from La Oreja de Van Gogh)

I remember her.

I was an imbecile with her. I was a person I had never met, all because I didn't know how to handle myself. I went from being her best friend, to her boyfriend, stridently colliding with the ground when I became the first person who destroyed her heart. She was my best friend, she knew every little piece of me, that's why she didn't see that demon that I became when she tried to love for the first time. Nor did she see her destiny coming, although neither of us, young and foolish, knew the true value of life.

You see her, she's always quiet. When you talk to her, she smiles at you and helps you. You will never see her cry, or complain. She will never ask you anything. And that's why no one noticed that she was moving away, except me. Her silence has always been something completely characteristic of her. When I spoke to her, she looked at the floor in silence and analyzed each of my words. Unable to see the other person in the eye, she shuts down with respect and lets the others let off steam. But, do you think they ask her "what about you?" No, only I did it. Even so, I did not do it when I should. I did not do it when I saw her discouraged. I only worsened her condition. Sometimes I think that another person had taken my body when I broke her pure heart. Then I realized that I needed her more than ever; only that selfishly. I needed her at my side to let off steam with her and feel good after she said a few words of support. But I did not even think about how that quiet girl was.

I remember that when she took confidence, she would tell you about all the topics she knew. Although I also remember that she gave her confidence to who did not deserve it, and they did not listen to four of five words that she tended to say. I listened to her words and loved to see her laugh, loved that emotion with which she told his favorite stories, or some summary of one of his books. It was nice to see how her silence changed with laughter. It's something I miss, her voice.

I feel that everything that has happened was my fault, I feel that it is not worthwhile to smile if she is not there. Not only because she is no longer by my side, but that she is no longer in this world. They were in mourning a whole week, plus I thought that her "best friend" would be like me, but surely nobody remembers her name. I did love her, no matter what happened, she was the only person I came to trust. But everything was my fault. I remember that day, although two years have passed. I should not have shouted at her, I should not have sent her where she came from ... I should have gone with her. No one saw that truck approaching, her face flooded with tears. I was dying inside seeing her cry, because of every time I saw her like that, I gave her a warm and strong hug. But, instead, I turned around and started walking. God, what an imbecile. She just cried and asked me to say "I love you", but I did not. I only yelled lies to her, for the foolish reason that I did not know how to react to her words.

Her mother will never forgive me, besides it was my fault, I was the only one who heard her last words. Upon hearing the impact, I ran back, instinctively and out of the way. When both fell to the ground, I noticed how damaged she was, but she was still breathing and her eyes were clouded with terror. She whispered my name, and when I reciprocated, she simply said "Say you love me ...". I just replied that she would be fine, and that she would recover. But again her characteristic silence returned, however, this time was eternal.

I keep her in mind in my daily thoughts, and I know that laughing will be a luxury that I forget when I have forgotten her. Every time I talk about her, I speak as if she were here, with me. Everyone thinks me crazy, especially when they knew I was someone else with her, and that's why I hurt her. I feel her close, and that's why I'm rejected. In my dreams she says it was not my fault, that she loves me and that she knows that I love her. She whispers to me that I should be happy, and that never forget her silence. Now I shut up, as she did. Now I advise everyone who needs me, like her. Nobody notices my sadness, because she asked me to do it. Today, I live for both of us, I live like her and like me, the "me" that should have been the one who took care of her, of my princess. I'll be fine, surely I will not be happy again, not on my own. She'll be fine, wherever she is, and all I ask her to do is leave the ghost silences to me, and that she laughs with the angels.

Just a story

I want to share with you a fictional story that I wanted to write while I was inspired, it's called: "Mom".

I was alone on the scene. My tremors became completely noticeable for the public. I knew that in any moment I would collapse and the medicine would stop being in my body.

I remember when I was diagnosed, the first thing I said to my mother while crying bitterly was: "I want to do theater." I had that dream since I saw "The Wizard of Oz" together with my mother when I was 5 years old.

She was a saint. While I was losing my conscience and making my situation worse, she took care of my food, my needs and my desires. She little by little had my same desire and enthusiasm for the performing arts, she even got more excited about it. Every time I went down, she encouraged me to practice my scripts, To goe up and train my facets, and when I used to scream that I couldn't.

But there was a moment in which the house began to remain silent, the colors that my mother made shine began to turn gray. She had had cancer in my childhood, and it seemed to have returned with much more strength. I left my problems aside to take care of her, but we both fell slowly into our agonies. A nurse imposed by the government did what she could for both of us, however, she got worse faster than me. I stopped attending the theater rehearsals, I put aside that dream to be with my mother. Her time was running out, and I didn't want to leave her alone.

My disease worsened and my attacks were almost daily. The same day that the doctors gave me a medication that would disguise my problems, they put my mother in ER. I stayed with her all night, and before her little eyes stopped seeing me, she said: "Remember our dream, I love you, my actor". She smiled, squeezed my hand and then it went cold. You have no idea how much I cried ..



Here I am, alone on stage. With the fear that Parkinson's control me again. I'm feeling it, it's coming. But the show must continue. For her.



For you.

Mom

Caracas Comic Con December 2018

 This weekend, Caracas enjoyed one of the most important conventions in Venezuela for the geek world. Things happened on it as bad as loosing your car or as good as winning the lottery. Every person who assisted can tell completely different stories, but mine is especial because I work there and I can see the magic when it’s happening and the making of it.

  It started on Thursday, I went to the Militaria Circle (I walked a lot because I wasn’t sure about how to get there and the only subway station that I was familiar with was “Los Símbolos”, so there were about 30 minutes walking). I met some of the new guys in the crew and joked around with my old friends in there. Then we started to bring some things that we needed to decorate every spot and corner in the place. At the end of the day I was really tired, hurt and with three nails broken, but I didn’t care because everything looked amazing.

   On Friday everything went well, regardless that I kissed the floor five or six times. At night we had all under control and the Comic-Con looked perfect with all the stands on foot for the day before.

  Saturday and Sunday, nothing much to say besides I didn’t want to get up of my bed and my boyfriend had to force me to do it and take a shower because my muscles hurt as much as if I was in the gym for a week. People loved the convention, and I saw them being excited about everything that they saw. My area was Videogames and every person that went and played were happy and relaxed. I had this beautiful feeling that make me work at the Comic-Con despite of the lack of payment that is making people feel like they’re home, that they don’t have trouble in their houses and their families, and that they are not living In a country that is falling apart every second.

  By now I’m sick as hell, but It really was worth it.

First Entry, maybe the hardest

What to write? 

What to write? 

  This question has come to my mind a lot lately when I sit in front of my laptop in order to start writing. However, I decided to start writing about this year and how it affected me and made me grow physically and psychologically (although when I think about "growing physically" I would find it kind of impossible).

  I started my new job at the Caracas Comic-Con, (I will write an entry about it, so no spoilers here), and I had to say goodbye to a lot of friends. It is hard when you have to say goodbye to someone that you thought that he or she would be with you the rest of the year and you would achieve a lot of things together. I really miss them, especially now that my birthday and Christmas are getting dangerously close. 

  I would like to thank my friends that are still here with me, because they helped me handle stress and sadness through the year with some time spend laughing and talking nonsense. Nevertheless, I still feel a hole in my heart because of the people that left; I feel grateful for each and everyone of them because somehow and in some way, they helped me grow as a person.

  What else can I say? I think that this year hurt us Venezuelans really bad, I guess we all have our heart broken and spread out in the whole world with our beloved ones. This year I grow stronger because of them, because I don’t want to worry these people that need to concentrate in the improving of their new lives outside their “Madre Patria”. But one thing that I really wish with all my heart is to see them again in person one day, and not only through my laptop screen.  

   

 I started to cry, maybe I will end this right here. 

 Hope you like it.