tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-93305952024-03-13T23:41:31.070-05:00Datos Irrelevantes Punto Compsesitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09879647454615947403noreply@blogger.comBlogger462125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9330595.post-11118019355266277832013-02-15T02:45:00.000-05:002018-01-05T01:26:32.267-05:00G-Lab Argentina: A New ArgentinaWhile showing some of the analytical tools we created during
our final presentation, one of our project’s sponsors interrupted saying in
Spanish: “Esto es exactamente lo que necesitamos”—<i>this is exactly what we need</i>. More than excitement, I felt a sense
of entitlement on her comment. She was looking directly towards the company’s
CEO. The CEO, on the other hand, was quiet at that moment but his face
expressions were clear—he understood the relevance and the urgency of the issue.
Later during the presentation, the CEO asked a senior executive “Does this make
sense to you?”—his response was clear: it was time to move forward and he was
on-board to start planning the changes.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
One of the reasons I came to MIT Sloan was the action
learning programs. Some people describe them as consulting projects—but I
disagree with this simplistic view. Having worked as an IT consultant, a
management consultant and as a global manager who collaborated with
consultants; I can clearly say the following: (1) the host company is not
exactly a client, (2) our student group does not have the structure of a consulting
team, (3) MIT does not behave like a consulting firm—and the most important
difference for me—(4) we are not doing the job from an ivory tower: we are
on-the ground and experiencing similar hurdles and excitements than the
entrepreneurs and employees we work with. This is a laboratory. This is an
experiment—a canvas; it is a unique opportunity to understand a “what if”… what
if I decide to run a business in this environment.<br />
<br />
Some of my former posts made references to either the development
of my understanding of the Argentinian culture and business environment; or to the
changes I experienced while living there; but for this final post, I would like
to delve into one conclusion I am just starting to formulate: without a historical context of a culture you
are not part of, making political, social or economic assumptions could be very
harmful for a foreigner entrepreneur.<br />
<br />
I couldn’t really make sense of the political and economic
decisions that the Argentinian government had been making for the last couple
of years. This inward looking growth by currency-exchange control, import
restrictions and tariff increases didn’t make much sense to me. I asked around;
got some basic context—but it was clear I was missing many subtleties. I was
missing the night stories passed from generation to generation that are so
ingrained and ubiquitous that could be ignored during a summary. Why making the
same mistakes from the past?<br />
<br />
According to the general field of Economics, a liberal
economic order can be seen as a public good. And although the liberalization of
an economy should benefit all groups in society; special groups who enjoy
sector-specific protections will attempt to maintain a closed economy in order
to continue receiving these benefits. For this reason, the policymakers in
charge of implementing a state intervention must be agnostic to current winners
who may become losers. That does not seem ground-breaking knowledge.
Nonetheless, as many of us are aware and based on human psychology, gains and
losses are not weight equally. This is the reason why future losers have a
bigger incentive to engage in collective actions against an open economy, while
prospective winners, still uncertain about their payoffs, remain disorganized.<br />
<br />
Argentina faced the deepest political crisis in 1976 after
the Malvinas War, so it suddenly moved to a radical liberalization of the
economy later that year. Argentina had a deep de-regularization of the banking
industry in 1977 that resulted in high debt in the early 1980s, another hyperinflation,
and a big crash. Why does this keep happening again and again? When would it
stop?<br />
<br />
I do not really have an answer and although I decided to
take a class about Latin American Politics and Policy-making at the Harvard
Kennedy School of Government to get a better understanding—it is still very early
in the semester for me to make a conclusion. The only thing I can say is that
even though Argentina is signaling a move towards an inward looking growth—it is
important to understand two important factors: (1) the country does not have a high
foreign debt and (2) its strong democracy could certainly repair the damages. It is
true that current economic policies may not look very optimistic, but it also
certain that there is a whole political and economic system behind those policies
that as long as they get fixed, the engine will keep moving.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
“A new Argentina, a new age about to begin</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A new Argentina, we
face the world together</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And no dissent within”</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
– From Evita, "A
New Argentina"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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psesitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09879647454615947403noreply@blogger.com0Cambridge, MA, USA42.3736158 -71.109733542.3266968 -71.1904145 42.420534800000006 -71.0290525tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9330595.post-41084305554252073112013-02-02T02:30:00.000-05:002014-01-19T02:31:01.349-05:00G-Lab Argentina: El Exprimidor<div class="entry-body">
<em>“The gap between the official rate and the blue gap rate continues to increase” </em>said one of the<br />guests during the radio show <em>“El Exprimidor”</em>—one of the most acclaimed and respected news programs in Buenos Aires. <em>“This
trend is expected to continue as the supply of official foreign capital
diminishes and the need to perform these transactions keeps
increasing”. </em>The insightful interview touched on the different economic and political causes of this phenomenon, it<br />delved
into multiple data analysis required to understand the situation--and
it discussed different plausible paths for the coming future—<em>some were certainly not optimistic.</em><br />
<br />
The taxi driver and I were following the arguments in total awe—the
show was thought-provoking and funny, satirical but astute. When we
both started laughing after a joke about the president, I realized I was
actually learning something about this country and that our taxi driver
was deeply knowledgeable and very interested about the future of his
country. We stopped a couple of steps behind the famous Plaza de Mayo,
and walked towards Conexia’s office.<br />
<br />
History can certainly teach us much about our present and our future. In 1976, a military coup took place in Argentina. Although the country
had experienced different authoritarian regimes in the past, this new
one was particularly coercive: it banned political activity, strike
rights, and<br />it implemented policies that made market economics
extremely difficult. The political climate of Argentina today is very
different, the labor unions do have a place in the political arena and
human rights advocates are not silent. Nonetheless, the discomfort of
the Argentinians is evident with the path the country is taking and they
are not shy to make it visible.<br />
<br />
As we prepare for our final presentation, I ponder in the importance
of learning and how to convey our message effectively. We specifically
wrote in our report: “One key component of our recommended sales
process is to embrace continuous learning by formalizing steps to gather
and share feedback. This will create an opportunity for Conexia’s sales
process to constantly evolve as their needs change.”<br />
<i>Learning from the past
<br />Learning by doing
<br />Learning for the future </i><br />
<br />
<a href="http://imaginafm.com.ar/programas/el-exprimidor/20120808/programa/1740662.aspx">http://imaginafm.com.ar/programas/el-exprimidor/20120808/programa/1740662.aspx</a><br />
</div>
psesitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09879647454615947403noreply@blogger.com0Buenos Aires, Argentina-34.6037232 -58.381593100000032-34.8128082 -58.704316600000034 -34.394638199999996 -58.05886960000003tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9330595.post-78237133794045728462013-01-21T02:27:00.000-05:002014-01-19T02:48:29.310-05:00G-Lab Argentina: Nostalgia <div class="entry-body">
I felt the breeze as I walked down the stairs. <i>“Just say yes,
just say yes”</i>—it was a constant loop in my head, repeating: <i>“Just say yes”.</i>
Nothing happened. Not a word. The actor couldn’t make up his mind. I kept
walking. Just as in the play I finished seeing. Lights dimming. People
clapping.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://mitsloanblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8351a101753ef017d404d9128970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="WP_001254" border="0" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00d8351a101753ef017d404d9128970c image-full" src="http://mitsloanblog.typepad.com/.a/6a00d8351a101753ef017d404d9128970c-800wi" height="300" title="WP_001254" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
“The worst nostalgia is to mourn what never ever happened”. Sabines’s
words suddenly appeared under my feet as I kept walking. As I closed my eyes, songs
from Alejandro Sanz and Charly García surrounded me around the Rodriguez Peña
Plaza. Love poems from Spain, Mexico, and Argentina. I waited. I wanted the
Buenos Aires that flew away, the one that flew away from a dawn waving love
around. I got it. I think I finally got it.<br />
<br />
<b>AMOR POR Buenos Aires</b><br />
<br />
Somehow, the crooked streets and the city noises were
charming, they had personality: they were even elegant. I was closer to home
but I wanted to keep wandering. Somehow, I was starting to feel part of this
city. <i>“You’re becoming Argentinian”</i>—a guy from work told me today when I told
him I was having an empanada as a mid-afternoon snack.<b> LOVE for Buenos Aires.</b>
For the paradoxes that surround me. For the pride I feel. For the baggage I am
able to leave behind. Not for what I am but who I am.<br />
<br />
I was asked this morning during a press interview: <i>“What did you learn by doing
business in Argentina?”</i> I remembered at that moment the play and how conflicted
I was: <i>“Just say yes, just say yes”.</i></div>
psesitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09879647454615947403noreply@blogger.com0Buenos Aires, Argentina-34.6037232 -58.381593100000032-34.8128082 -58.704316600000034 -34.394638199999996 -58.05886960000003tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9330595.post-2658519634270455642013-01-14T02:25:00.000-05:002014-01-19T02:47:43.996-05:00G-Lab Argentina: In Praise of Darkness <blockquote>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>“Buenos Aires,</i><br />
<i>
which once broke up in a tatter of slums and open lots</i><br />
<i>
out toward the endless plain,</i><br />
<i>
is not again the graveyard of the Recoleta, the Retiro square,</i><br />
<i>
the shabby streets of the old Westside,</i><br />
<i>
and the few vanishing decrepit houses</i><br />
<i>
that we still call the South.”
</i></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Extract
from “Elogio de la Sombra” by Jorge Luis Borges</i><br />
<i>translated from Spanish by Norman Thomas di Giovanni</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Borges, one of the most acclaimed writers in history—<i>and an Argentinian</i>—loved to write about the paradox of self-discovery, and <i>“In Praise of Darkness”</i>, he excels in his ability. He once described Argentinians as if <i>they live their lives as in a dream, without knowing who they were or what they were</i>.<br />
<br />
Buenos Aires, feels to me, like a troubled middle-age educated white
man raised in a working family. Although he may have not had the most
privileged childhood, his efforts and skills led him to attend a
prestigious college and became a healthy handsome man. His family built
high expectations around his future (their future), and blinded by his
newly acquired self-confidence, he made a couple of reckless decisions
that are still dragging him today. The problem with this man is that he
still wants to believe that success is written in his fate—he looks at
the mirror and still sees his dreamy blue eyes and that seductive smile
who never failed him. He fails, though, to note his wrinkled skin and
his also newly acquired receding hairline. Nowadays, his family is very
divided on its admiration—so much potential and still, just a shadow of
what they once hoped for him (for them).<br />
<br />
He looks once more at the mirror—the one he bought in Florida Street
when he was still a teenager. He starts hearing some music in the
background and remembers her—she really looked beautiful that steamy
summer night when they attended their first show at Teatro Colón. He
looks once more and he’s afraid.<br />
Afraid to see what others see<br />
Afraid to let go part of his identify<br />
Afraid to finally become what he was destined to be<br />
What he must ought to be<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>“El día que me quieras</i><br />
<i>
endulzará sus cuerdas</i><br />
<i>
el pájaro cantor,</i><br />
<i>
florecerá la vida,</i><br />
<i>
no existirá el dolor...”</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
El día que me quieras (1935). Music
by Carlos Gardel. Lyrics by Alfredo Le Pera. Based on poem by Amado Nervo</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
psesitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09879647454615947403noreply@blogger.com0Buenos Aires, Argentina-34.6037232 -58.381593100000032-34.8128082 -58.704316600000034 -34.394638199999996 -58.05886960000003tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9330595.post-3254414224096546962012-05-07T02:15:00.000-05:002014-01-19T02:21:25.091-05:00China Lab: The unbearable lightness of projects <div class="entry-body">
Learning how to set and manage expectations is one of the most
important skills in project management. Interesting enough, one never
stops learning.<br />
<br />
Before coming to MIT Sloan, I worked for more than four years managing
global projects with over 30 stakeholders located all across the
world--this is one of the few areas of knowledge where I considered
having expertise. During the China Lab class, the experience of defining
and freezing the project scope was not an issue for our team. In
addition, thanks to the hard work of our Chinese teammates, our finished
deliverable provided our host company with specific tools and sample
documents to start the implementation of our recommendation—besides a
list of next steps.<br />
<br />
Nonetheless, there was not a milestone in our project plan to spend
quality time with our teammates from China on their trip to the US—besides scheduled school work
and group lunches. Additionally, that final week ended up being one of the
most demanding times at Sloan during my first year and as it sometimes
happens; lack of sleep and extra work knocked me down with fever during
the weekend.<br />
<br />
I set the expectations with my Chinese counterparts that my time was
going to be very limited before they reached US ground and as a result
of my sickness, they were candid and comprehensive with my even more
limited situation. Nonetheless, this doesn’t remove the sense of guilt
that they traveled literally half-across the globe and I couldn’t be the
host I wanted to be.<br />
<br />
So… what happens when the expectations are clearly set and defined…
but the bitter taste doesn’t go away? My answer is simple: <b>people are
not projects</b>--and setting expectations is not always the holy grail. On the positive side, people are not projects and
deadlines are not set in stone. The fact that my teammates are not
longer in American soil doesn't mean that our relationship cannot keep
growing. People are not projects and I'm happy about having to deal with
the <span class="st"><i>heaviness</i> of human relations</span>.</div>
psesitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09879647454615947403noreply@blogger.com0Cambridge, MA, USA42.3736158 -71.109733542.3266968 -71.1904145 42.420534800000006 -71.0290525tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9330595.post-59111965361588230902012-04-04T02:10:00.000-05:002014-01-19T02:14:40.465-05:00China Lab: Note From The Future <div class="entry-body">
2012 was the year I visited China for the first time in my life. I
was part of an action oriented course at MIT in partnership with Xi’an
Jiaotong University and stayed in Xi’an for two weeks. Funny that I
still remember some vivid details of that experience as if I had just
came back from there.<br />
<br />
There was so much hype about the economical rising of China during
those days! The believers kept talking about its impressive
infrastructure, its growing middle class, and the remarkable attention
to detail of the Chinese government. The detractors, on the other hand,
kept pointing out the social fractures, the political oppression, and
the language barriers.<br />
<br />
When I reflect back on those days, it’s impossible to dismiss the
prevalent egocentrism of many westerners on this topic—sadly; I was one
of them. There is a Chinese Proverb that says “Deal with the faults of
others as gently as with your own.” I failed many times at this. Even
though English is my second language and I have an accent when I speak, I
couldn’t stop getting frustrated by the complexities surrounding our
project due to language and cultural barriers. At that time, I was
blaming “them”.<br />
<br />
Yes, I was blaming “them” even though I argued with some of my
classmates that China didn’t have to learn English and didn’t have to
adapt their traditions for our own convenience in order to succeed. I
agreed at that time that a transitional period may be required, but it
was clear to me that the balance could go either way. Even then, I still
didn’t believe the average Joe—I mean—Wei had to learn English. Making
that assumption was egocentric, but that was our world. We traveled the
world expecting the world to understand and adapt to us.<br />
<br />
Knowing what we know today and based on the role that China plays in
the world, these arguments seem laughable—but at that time, we still
didn’t know. We were so far behind that the question was not even if
China was going to succeed by adapting to the world or adapting the
world to her—we were still questioning if China was going to succeed at
all. As we learned in our time there, China in Mandarin has the name of<em> Zhong Guo</em>,
which means the "Middle Country" or "Middle Kingdom"—or as our Xi’an
partners preferred to translate it: “The center of the Universe”. I
guess the egocentrism was already present from both sides of the coin.
In those circumstances, I can see why it was still difficult to make a
sound prediction, but that was our world. We lived our lives expecting
to get notes from the future clarifying exactly what was in front of our eyes.<br />
<br />
</div>
psesitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09879647454615947403noreply@blogger.com0Xi'an, Shaanxi, China34.341568 108.9401749999999532.661049500000004 106.35838799999995 36.0220865 111.52196199999996tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9330595.post-64162082770169769572012-03-27T07:07:00.000-05:002014-01-19T02:47:29.808-05:00China Lab: Creative Minds and Inquisitive Spirits <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There
were at least 40 people. I couldn’t see how big the crowd was as we
were at least 50 feet away when we turned back. The protesters had
multiple signs and were blocking a big intersection in Xi’an. Still in
the car, I asked our iMBA partner if this was a common event in Xi’an.
He told me if it were common, he wouldn’t know as news channels were not
allowed to report on protesters. End of the conversation about this
event. We were too far away to even know what the fuzz was about. No
more questions were asked.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Experiencing
the richness of a millenary culture has been a humbling experience for
me. The food, the music, the architecture, the language and more
importantly: the spirit and the resilience of people who are more than
just past and present—they are future. There are over 1.3 billion people
in China and among them—I believe—thousands and thousands of poets,
writers, painters, thinkers, journalists, musicians: artists and
intellectuals who live and act with no regard of conventional rules of
behaviors. As we took a turn in our way to meet our client that morning,
I couldn’t keep from wondering—Where are they? How long could this
last? How long can these creative minds and inquisitive spirits be
contained?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">We
arrived to our client and as we were presenting the initial data from
our employee’s survey, something started bothering me. When we
confidently said that 80% of the people agree or strongly agree with the
statement “I feel comfortable approaching my direct supervisor when
something is bothering me” as a highlight, I couldn’t keep but
questioning our own data. Was this true? Were people comfortable
expressing their opinions? We made sure the surveys were distributed and
answered anonymously. There was no way to keep track of the answers to
specific individuals. I had zero evidence to think otherwise. I decided
not to bring the topic to the conversation and we kept the flow. The
presentation ended and we started drafting our next set of goals for the
project. No more questions were asked.</span></span>psesitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09879647454615947403noreply@blogger.com0Xi'an, Shaanxi, China34.341568 108.9401749999999532.661049500000004 106.35838799999995 36.0220865 111.52196199999996tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9330595.post-79999960980204457252012-03-20T09:00:00.000-05:002014-01-19T02:21:09.707-05:00China Lab: Showing Face vs Saving Face <div class="entry-body">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">After our 30-hours long journey, the rough but promising sound of
the baggage carousel at the Xi’an International Airport stopped along
with our hopes of seeing our luggage. Being the only people left
waiting, two concerned but helpful ladies approached to us. <i>“Before arriving to Beijing, we flew from from Newark”</i>—we told them. After a short but vivid discussion in Mandarin, they started walking away with our tickets: we decided to follow.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">They entered a small room behind a lackluster customer service stand.
We couldn’t see anything happening: no computers, no phones, no smiley
faces---just a tall counter and some papers floating. I’m a very relaxed
and patient person, but I started to doubt something was going to happen. The
ladies were outside of my sight and no one was telling me “We’re
working on this”, “Everything is going to be all right” or at least an
acknowledgement that “We deal with these situations all the time”.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Ten minutes later, they came out of the small room: <i>“We couldn’t communicate with Beijing”</i>—they said. We filled out a complicated paper form and were told: <i>“We will contact you later with more information”</i>.
We asked for estimated contact time, probabilities that the luggage was
going to arrive the next day, or next steps. We received a blank stare
and a simple but concise <i>“We will contact you later with more information”</i>.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">That night, we reached our host in Xi’an and told her about our
incident—as we provided her phone number as our contact number. We asked
her to keep us updated as soon as she knew something. No answer for the
next 10 hours. We asked the reception at the hotel to check with the
airport if there were news about our luggage. No answer. Sigh.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When we saw our host for lunch, she calmly told us after some minutes
of small talk: "Everything is fixed. Your luggage will arrive tonight.
We already arranged the transportation to the hotel". This is when I
remember our coach explaining to us the differences between
“showing face” and “saving face”. I get it now.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">We are used to be told what exactly is happening behind the curtains,
to have the ability to track the status of every process we enter, and
to have a smiley face holding our hands while we impatiently wait. Things
may not work out at the end, but seeing the hard work during the
process is very comforting and I like it, at least, I think I like it. I wonder
now—wouldn’t be more comforting to know that things will work out at the
end with no idea of what’s happening in between? I’m still trying to
decide.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am in China now. </span></div>
psesitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09879647454615947403noreply@blogger.com0Xi'an, Shaanxi, China34.341568 108.9401749999999532.661049500000004 106.35838799999995 36.0220865 111.52196199999996tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9330595.post-42356506010094649342010-11-22T02:21:00.005-05:002010-11-22T02:56:46.258-05:00Seis meses después<div>¿Algún día se terminará este sentimiento? ¿Algún dejaré de llorar por ti? Tal vez es la llegada del invierno, las largas noches o la primer nevada. Tal vez es el finalmente tener un par de días con un poco de tranquilidad. No lo sé, pero no he parado de llorar desde que escuché la canción "High and Low" de Greg Laswell.<br /><br /><blockquote><p><em>I'm going to see some friends from out of state<br />The very trip you<br />were supposed to take a while ago but it fell through<br />Like all of you<br />Like all of you<br /><br />Thought I'd make the drive but a free plane ride<br />is in the air<br />And just like that my fear of it disappeared<br />Like all of you<br />Like all of you<br /><br />And I look high and low for yesterday<br />High and low<br />for you and I<br />High and low<br /><br />Once I can see straight I might move<br />Somewhere cold<br />Seattle or the Bay area; to see your ghost<br />What's left of you<br />What's left of you<br /><br />And I look high and low for yesterday<br />High and low for you and I<br />High and low<br /><br />Found a letter from a man I might have met<br />Addressed to you<br />And I'll steal the words he ended with:<br />I miss you<br />And I do<br />Miss you<br />And I do<br /><br />High and low for<br />yesterday<br />High and low for you and I<br />High and low </em></p></blockquote><br />Hace días te soñé. Soñaba que te veía caminar frente a mí. Durante todo el sueño la angustia de verte y no saber qué hacer me consumió poco a poco. Durante el sueño, cuando te volví a ver, sólo te seguí con la mirada y te me fuiste una vez más.<br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/o-F2KjfvzXA?fs=1&hl=en_US"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/o-F2KjfvzXA?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /></div>psesitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09879647454615947403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9330595.post-35839034654926590252010-07-16T22:01:00.009-05:002010-11-22T02:41:55.714-05:00Angustia masculina<div>Han pasado alrededor de 50 horas después de mi operación. Estoy mucho más calmado al saber que no ha habido más sangrado de lo esperado y que el dolor ha sido bastante leve gracias a las pastillas que me fueron recomendadas.</div><br /><div> </div>No he muerto y aún tengo la capacidad para aumentar de tamaño, al menos eso lo he comprobado al despertarme tanto Jueves como Viernes. No obstante, aún continúo muy nervioso.<br /><div> </div><br /><div>Al mediodía, después de tomar mi primer baño, ya sin la gaza, observé con más detenimiento el causante de toda esta conmoción y no estoy seguro si lo que estoy viendo es normal o es algo pasajero. El doctor me comentó varias veces que me iba a asustar los primero días, ya que la hinchazón iba a ser bastante prominente. Vaya que lo estoy.<br /></div>psesitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09879647454615947403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9330595.post-3111304000818393752010-05-25T03:09:00.007-05:002010-05-25T17:00:38.141-05:00Punto finalMe cuesta tanto trabajo ponerle un punto final a esta etapa de mi vida. Han sido más de cinco años y no puedo desprenderme tan fácilmente. He venido haciéndolo durante los dos últimos años, y es finalmente hoy cuando todo termina.<br /><br />Yo sé que esto lo hago por mi bien, sé que saldré adelante, sé que esto lo veré como un aprendizaje en el futuro. Hoy, hoy me siento destrozado. Me desmorono en pedacitos tan pequeños que no puedo distinguirlos. Me confundo con la tierra, con la alfombra, con quien he sido y con quien quiero ser.<br /><br />Hice todo lo que pude. Me presenté de la manera más honesta que conozco, la más vulnerable. Lo hice sabiendo las consecuencias y no me arrepiento. Siempre he sabido luchar por lo que quiero, y esto es lo que más he querido en toda mi vida. Finalmente, es por lo que todas las demás batallas fueron peleadas.<br /><br />Esta noche, en el aeropuerto de Houston me preguntaron en seguridad. "Are you feeling ok?" No exactamente -- les contesté. "Are you leaving someone behind?" Sí, y me cuesta el sólo escribirlo. No quiero dejarlo atrás, no quiero, no quiero, no quiero.<br /><br />No quiero que deje ser parte de mi vida. Tal vez en el futuro pueda volver a ser mi amigo. Hoy no puede serlo. Hoy acabo de borrarlo en mi "facebook" -- y aunque parezca infantil, me ha dolido y me sigue doliendo. Tenía que hacerlo hoy, si no, sabía que no lo hubiese hecho mañana. El tener tanta información a las puntas de mis manos era una tortura. No tengo la suficiente fuerza de voluntad. No por el momento.<br /><br />El cómo fué no podré describirlo en estos momentos. El amor de mi vida, como la conozco el día de hoy, se me ha marchado y me ha dejado un hueco que tendré que ir construyendo poco a poco. Ahora necesito a mis amigos. Necesito darle un giro positivo a estas heridas. Tengo por delante una vida entera. Una vida que, aunque la garganta se me cierre al pensarlo, una vida que tengo que planear sin Mike.psesitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09879647454615947403noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9330595.post-24497480574189556192010-05-17T21:00:00.002-05:002010-05-25T04:09:25.613-05:00Desde Buenos AiresPeople say you need to let your heart speak out and you’ll feel better. But today, I am not sure I can hear it anymore. I do feel it, but not vibrant, beating or wounded. Today, it is more like a numb arm. As long as I don’t move it, I don’t feel the pain.<br /><br />Rechazado. Mendigando caricias. Suplicando la oportunidad de entregar mi cariño. Racionalizando el porqué merezco la felicidad. Humillado y reducido al trillado enamorado que no quiere aceptar que su tiempo terminó años atrás. No te culpo por no causarte el sentimiento de antaño. ¿Cómo puedo enamorarte si me he convertido en una triste caricatura de mi mismo? Puede ser que tú hayas sido el amor de mi vida, pero me queda claro que yo no soy el tuyo. Deseo con todas mis fuerzas detestarte. Sería más fácil. Tengo que conformarme con aceptar que no hay villano en esta historia, y que cuando mi nombre aparezca en tu historia, será como remembranza del amor que pudo ser y que no fue. Como un ideal y una fantasía que el tiempo desgastó, y que lamentablemente, no tiene compostura.<br /><br />Te amo, y siempre te amaré dentro de mi corazón. Eso no lo puedo cambiar. Sé que te amaré hasta que mi vida termine, pero necesito también amarme a mí mismo y darme la oportunidad de amar a alguien que también me corresponda con la misma intensidad.psesitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09879647454615947403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9330595.post-16745148247576995372010-05-16T09:28:00.002-05:002010-05-16T09:43:48.205-05:00La calma<blockquote>"The fruit falls only in its own time, since its weight has long been pulling it<br />toward the earth: this inner ripening is the only fataliy"</blockquote><br /><div align="right">Alexis. Marguerite Yourcenar, P52</div><br />Una calma disfrazada de zozobra y de hastío. Después de varios meses donde mi tiempo fue consumido, contra mi voluntad, por actividades laborales; finalmente, en mi sosiego de esta mañana, tengo mucho miedo.<br /><br />No sé qué esperar y al mismo tiempo, mi lista es interminable. Por un lado, espero todo, que supongo que es lo que uno espera cuando ama. Tengo que asegurarme que mi agitado, pero paciente corazón, sepa reconstruirse si se retira seco de este encuentro. Tengo que asegurarme de proporcionarle el calor necesario y una rehabilitación constante. Tengo que esperar nada, que es también lo que uno espera cuando ama.<br /><br />Pero aún así, a pesar de todo, tengo esperanza.psesitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09879647454615947403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9330595.post-53395877692025610252010-01-10T17:48:00.006-05:002010-01-10T19:29:41.714-05:00As I Lay Dying<div align="justify">Hay libros que te cautivan por su singular estilo, otros por su prosa, mientras otros, por la universalidad de su historia. "As I Lay Dying" me cautivó en todos los sentidos. No sólo es el hecho de que es una historia narrada desde la perspectiva de más de 20 personajes, sino que cada personaje te la cuenta a través de su flujo de conciencia. Además, la prosa de Faulkner es ridículamente espectacular. Cada párrafo es una aventura donde el narrador no sólo te describe lo que sucede literalmente, pero la tragedia o belleza involucrada en lo que fue, en lo que es o en lo que representará para los personajes.<br /><br /><em><blockquote><div align="right"><em>"She looks at Vardaman; her eyes, the life in them, rushing suddenly upon them; the two flames glare up for a steady instant. Then they go out as though someone had leaned down and blown upon them." </em></div><em><div align="right"><br />Faulkner, William. "As I lay dying". p48 </div><div align="right"><br />"In the sand the wheels whisper, as though the very earth would hush our entry. We descend as the hill commences to rise." </div><div align="right"><br />Faulkner, William. "As I lay dying". p229</em> </div></blockquote></em><br />Es así que Faulkner no sólo nos presta sus ojos y oídos para contemplar la historia, pero nos adentra a través de todo ser vivo para prestarnos su sexto sentido por algunos momentos.</div><div align="justify"><em><blockquote><div align="right"><em>"The mules stand, their fore quarters already sloped a little, their rumps high. They too are breathing now with a deep groaning sound; looking back once, their gaze sweeps across us with in their eyes a wild, sad, profound and despairing quality as though they had already seen in the thick water the shape of the disaster which they could not speak and we could not see." </em></div><em><div align="right"><br />Faulkner, William. "As I lay dying". p147</em> </div></blockquote></em><br />Dentro de esta historia, hay pasajes llenos de honestidad y vulnerabilidad; </div><div align="justify"><em><blockquote><div align="right"><em>"I am not crying now. I am not anything. Dewey Dell comes to the hill and calls me. Vardaman. I am not anything. I am quiet. You, Vardaman. I can cry quiet now, feeling and hearing my tears." </em></div><em><div align="right"><br />Faulkner, William. "As I lay dying". p56</em> </div></blockquote></em><br />mientras que están aquellos de reclamo a la sociedad y a sus costumbres; </div><div align="justify"><em><blockquote><div align="right"><em>"It was as though, so long as the deceit ran along quiet and monotonous, all of us let ourselves be deceived, abetting it unawares or maybe through cowardice, since all people are cowards and naturally prefer any kind of treachery because it has a bland outside."</em></div><div align="right"><em> </div></em><div align="right"><em>Faulkner, William. "As I lay dying". p134<br /></em><em><br />"When he was born I knew that motherhood was invented by someone who had to have a word for it because the ones that had the children didn't care whether there was a word for it or not." </div><div align="right"><br />Faulkner, William. "As I lay dying". p171<br /><br />"He had a word, too. Love, he called it. But I had been used to words for a long time. I knew that that word was like the others: just a shape to fill a lack; that when the right time came, you wouldn't need a word for that anymore than for pride or fear. Cash did not need to say it to me nor I to him, and I would say, Let Anse use it, if he wants to. So that it was Anse or love; love or Anse; it didn't matter." </div><div align="right"><br />Faulkner, William. "As I lay dying". p172</em> </div></blockquote></em><br />o los que simplemente acusan a sus semejantes por sus actitudes o acciones. </div><div align="justify"><em><blockquote><div align="right"><em>"I knew that nobody but a luckless man could ever need a doctor in the face of a cyclone. And I knew that if it had finally occurred to Anse himself that he needed one, it was already too late." </em></div><em><div align="right"><br />Faulkner, William. "As I lay dying". p42<br /><br />"I notice how it takes a lazy man, a man that hates moving, to get set on moving once he does get started off, the same as he was set on staying still, like it aint the moving he hates so much as the starting and the stopping." </div><div align="right"><br />Faulkner, William. "As I lay dying". p114<br /><br />"I would think of a sin as I would think of the clothes we both wore in the world's face, of the circumspection neccesary because he was he and I was I; the sin themore utter and terrible since he was the instrument ordained by God who created the sin, to sanctify that sin He had created." </div><div align="right"><br />Faulkner, William. "As I lay dying". p174</em> </div></blockquote></em><br />No obstante, nunca se pierde este sentido de reflexión durante toda la historia. Reflexión sobre quiénes somos y en dónde estamos. </div><div align="justify"><em><blockquote><div align="right"><em>"'Why aint I a town boy, pa?' I said. God made me. I did not said to God to made me in the country." </em></div><em><div align="right"><br />Faulkner, William. "As I lay dying". p66<br /><br />"I don't know what I am. I don't know if I am or not. Jewel knows he is, becuase he does not know that he does not know whether he is or not." </div><div align="right"><br />Faulkner, William. "As I lay dying". p80<br /><br />"It is as though the space between us were time: an irrevocable quality. It is as though time, no longer running straight before us in a diminishing line, now runs parallel between us like a looping string, the distance being the doubling accretion of the thread and not the inverval between." </div><div align="right"><br />Faulkner, William. "As I lay dying". p146 </div></em></blockquote></em></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify">Y es gracias a estas continuas reflexiones de sus personajes y su evolución durante la historia, que "As I Lay Dying" se convierte en más allá que en la odisea de una familia en duelo; pero en una poderosa instrospección del comportamiento humano; de sus luces y sus sombras, y el constante cambio de reflectores.</div><blockquote><div align="right"><em>"Sometimes I aint so sho who's got ere a right to say when a man is crazy and when he aint. Sometimes I think it aint none of us pure crazy and aint none of us pure sane until the balance of us talks him that-a-way. It's like it aint to much what a fellow does, but it's the way the majority of folks is looking at him when he does it." </em></div><em><div align="right"><br />Faulkner, William. "As I lay dying". p233</em></div></blockquote>psesitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09879647454615947403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9330595.post-89062997468966541722009-12-06T18:28:00.003-05:002009-12-06T18:45:58.333-05:00El tiempo lo cura todoEstoy convencido que el tiempo lo cura todo. La incertidumbre no está en la solución, pero en la duración del método. No es cuestión de razón, ya que mis ríos o desplomes son irracionales, pero eso no los convierte en quimeras.<br /><br />Frente a un sublime atardecer de diciembre, cierro mis ojos. Proclamo mi derecho a disfrutar del naranja en los árboles y del bermellón del sol, de la brisa que seca mis ojos y del crujir de mis estómagos.<br /><br /><object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Vvndzh78nf0&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Vvndzh78nf0&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object><br /><br /><strong><em>Wait It On</em></strong><br /><strong><em>Imogen Heap</em></strong><br /><br /><em>Where do we go from here?<br />How do we carry on?<br />I can't get beyond the questions.<br />Clambering for the scraps<br />in the shatter of us collapsed.<br />It cuts me with every could-have-been.<br /><br />Pain on pain on play, repeating<br />With the backup makeshift life in waiting.<br /><br />Everybody says time heals everything.<br />But what of the wretched hollow?<br />The endless in-between?<br />Are we just going to wait it out?<br /><br />There's nothing to see here now,<br />turning the sign around;<br />We're closed to the Earth 'til further notice.<br />A Stumbling cliche case,<br />crumbled and puffy faced.<br />Dead in the stare of a thousand miles.<br /><br />All I want, only one street-level miracle.<br />I'll be a an out-and-out, born again from none more cynical.<br /><br />Everybody says time heals everything.<br />But what of the wretched hollow?<br />The endless in-between?<br />Are we just going to wait it out?<br /><br />And sit here cold?<br />Well, We'll be long gone by then.<br />And lackluster in dust we lay<br />Around old magazines.<br />Fluorescent lighting sets the scene<br />for all we could and should be being<br />in the one life that we've got.<br /><br />(Ah, Ah, Ah)<br /><br />In the one life that we've got.<br /><br />Everybody says that time heals everything.<br />But what of the wretched hollow?<br />The endless in-between?<br /><br />Are we just going to wait it out? sit Here?<br />Just going to Wait it out? Sit here cold?<br />Just going to sweat it out?<br />Wait it out. </em>psesitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09879647454615947403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9330595.post-71753034319543591592009-10-06T02:26:00.003-05:002009-10-06T02:33:41.213-05:00PrácticaHoy decidí hacer otro examen de prueba con más atención al tiempo y tengo que aceptar que sí tiene efecto, sobre todo en la cuestión de comprensión de lectura en el examen verbal; y en los últimos problemas en la parte cuantitativa.<br /><br />Los resultados no fueron tan diferentes de mi anterior examen, pero sí me di cuenta que los nervios sí tuvieron efecto. Esta vez obtuve 520 en la parte Verbal y 780 en la Cuantitativa.<br /><br />¿Mi filosofía? Seguir practicando -- al menos ya estoy en el rango que estoy buscando, aunque las preguntas cuantitativas de estos exámenes han estado muy fáciles y aún así he cometido errores. En fin. A seguirle.psesitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09879647454615947403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9330595.post-58444368827915817512009-10-05T00:03:00.003-05:002009-10-05T00:18:56.240-05:00RespiroDespués de dos semanas de arduo estudio, al parecer, ya no estoy tan en el hoyo. Debido a que no tengo acceso a demasiados exámenes computarizados, decidí hacer uno en papel. ¿Mis resultados? Mucho mejor que el primer intento.<br /><br />En la parte cuantitativa obtuve 770 y en la verbal 550. Mucho mejor que la primera vez. Por supuesto, este resultado no lo puedo tomar como verdadero porque normalmente los exámenes en papel son más sencillos. Además, en la segunda parte de la parte cuantitativa, las dos últimas preguntas las contesté fuera de tiempo -- lo que me daría un 750 si no las hubiera contado como acertadas.<br /><br />Me preocupa un poco la parte verbal, en el hecho de que varias preguntas en las que me equivoco utilizan sustantivos que no van a venir en las guías de estudio, ya que son sustantivos referentes a "cosas" -- no a sentimientos o actitudes, o que tienen un significado diferente al común. Por ejemplo:<br /><br /><strong>coop:</strong> enclosure for poultry: an enclosure or hut in which poultry is kept<br /><strong>boring:</strong> excavating galleries in wood in feeding or in constructing a nest —used chiefly of an insect<br /><strong>die:</strong> any of various tools or devices for imparting a desired shape, form, or finish to a material or for impressing an object or material<br /><br />En fin, esto no se acaba hasta que se acaba.psesitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09879647454615947403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9330595.post-2879915892062351982009-09-21T01:55:00.002-05:002009-09-21T02:30:56.113-05:00Miedo milHoy me decidí a tomar el primer test de prueba del GRE a ver qué tal salía y mis resultados no fueron nada prometedores. En la parte cuantitativa obtuve 610 y en la verbal 410. Es decir, bienvenido a tuescuelita.com :S<br /><br />Tengo varias semanas para prepararme y este resultado ha hecho que me ponga las pilas si en realidad quiero obtener 1300 (750 + 550). La verdad el examen me puso demasiado nervioso, tanto que terminé la sección cuantitativa con 10 minutos de sobra y la verbal con 5 minutos extras. Lo bueno es que cuando revisé la sección cuantitativa me di cuenta que 4 de las 8 respuestas equivocadas fueron por no leer bien.<br /><ol><li>No me di cuenta que en un problema usaban pies y pulgadas y todo lo calculé en base a pies</li><li>No me di cuenta que el enunciado decía "the larger of the two numbers" en lugar de sólo "the two numbers"</li><li>No me di cuenta que la gráfica decía "miles" en el eje de las y</li><li>Seleccioné la respuesta equivocada en la computadora (gracias)</li></ol><p>Del resto, dos las pude haber resuelto con más tiempo (finalmente me sobraron diez minutos) y las otras dos sí mostraron deficiencias matemáticas que puedo mejorar.<br /><br />En la cuestión verbal, ¿cómo empezar con todas las deficiencias? Malísimo para los antónimos y algo que la verdad no esperaba, para comprensión de lectura. Aunque mi vocabulario ha mejorado con la semana de estudio que llevo, aún me falta mucho. He aquí la lista de definiciones de palabras que de haber sabido, hubiera contestado correctamente los antónimos<br /><br /></p><ul><li><strong>vain</strong>: excessively proud: excessively proud, especially of personal appearance</li><li><strong>subdue</strong>: repress emotions: to repress or control feelings</li><li><strong>beleaguered</strong>: to make somebody feel harassed, hemmed in, or under severe pressure </li><li><strong>moratorium</strong>: agreed period of delay: a formally agreed period during which an activity is halted or a planned activity is postponed </li><li><strong>askew</strong>: off center: at an angle </li><li><strong>dismay</strong>: alarm somebody: to fill somebody with alarm, apprehension, or distress </li><li><strong>animate</strong>: inspire somebody: to rouse or inspire somebody to take action or to have strong feelings</li><li><strong>enervate:</strong> weaken: to weaken somebody's physical, mental, or moral vitality</li></ul><p>La verdad espero que este resultado mejore. Voy a necesitar mucha disciplina.</p>psesitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09879647454615947403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9330595.post-75915591671378362602009-09-18T16:29:00.007-05:002009-09-18T16:37:48.262-05:00Brontosaurio Psíquico<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPm6INihrK5ieh9QGMtw8tvgedwjRBqxVRF4etNjERj6QbeRIcbb1PPjyTdleZiBX3DQCKhgiZja5dZmypFVYtMC1bfrW5H_nfhYHuwdSZ4RK5n-an0TPSVX9cXX9U55ynqI9F8Q/s1600-h/psychic.png"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 146px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382924770776761474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPm6INihrK5ieh9QGMtw8tvgedwjRBqxVRF4etNjERj6QbeRIcbb1PPjyTdleZiBX3DQCKhgiZja5dZmypFVYtMC1bfrW5H_nfhYHuwdSZ4RK5n-an0TPSVX9cXX9U55ynqI9F8Q/s400/psychic.png" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiySqbA5GWzAnejmPTVMuRtmjSjcB6b19OFztOoJRUSKKDHlnEDJTfh8rQmj2W_D6BdT3lf9xlrEo8ev4Z-LV3okagywGzqPojyvCIAtrGGTAMTSgUugPkpouMDLm1qfUXVu5iOmg/s1600-h/brontosaurus.png"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 107px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382924352146846594" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiySqbA5GWzAnejmPTVMuRtmjSjcB6b19OFztOoJRUSKKDHlnEDJTfh8rQmj2W_D6BdT3lf9xlrEo8ev4Z-LV3okagywGzqPojyvCIAtrGGTAMTSgUugPkpouMDLm1qfUXVu5iOmg/s400/brontosaurus.png" /></a><br /><br /><div>Buenísimos.<br /><br />Es bastante reconfortante saber que hay una comunidad que tiene un humor parecido al mío.<br /><p align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLSImdYOdl_aoTJqzV1jRczw8W9n_CTItuFxU0cPp8zTbrXopg7uJZuP36s7KJbQ1F7Q01OzaV7e44cY3xpFSKvkRDoqzMKXxwTrSjZHWPG6-wGVZR-C2Gj-2WR5UZ9hSUIl2-eg/s1600-h/brontosaurus.png"></a></p></div></div>psesitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09879647454615947403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9330595.post-80494426071674777402009-09-18T16:14:00.004-05:002009-09-18T16:28:54.369-05:00¿En sus marcas?Me tomó varios días de preparación psicológica pero el miércoles 16 de Septiembre, para conmemorar la Independencia de México, decidí comenzar oficialmente mi preparación para el <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Graduate_Record_Examination">GRE</a>.<br /><br />Nunca me he preparado para un examen de este tipo en mi vida, por lo que no tengo la menor idea de cómo será mi resultado. La única experiencia similar que he tenido fue cuando presenté la versión mexicana del SAT para entrar a la preparatoria. En aquel entonces sólo tuve un fin de semana de preparación sin contar que no tenía mucha idea de los conceptos de trigonometría y mi resultado fue sobresaliente, pero no excepcional.<br /><br />¿Qué resultado estoy pronosticando? Idealmente me gustaría estar en el 75% para tener suficientes opciones en mi elección de programa de posgrado. No obstante, el hecho de que el examen esté en inglés y que prácticamente me gradué hace seis años, me hace dudar mucho sobre mi posible rendimiento.<br /><br />¿Listos?<br /><br />Creo que no, pero si no comienzo, nunca lo estaré. Lo peor que puede pasar es que mi resultado sea malo y tenga que volver a presentarlo; y si aún así mi resultado sigue siendo malo --- bueno pues, ya me preocuparé para ese entonces.psesitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09879647454615947403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9330595.post-9339432070706261392009-09-09T16:57:00.004-05:002009-09-09T17:23:18.612-05:00De regresoEl reloj marcaba las 7:20 am cuando me desperté. La noche anterior me había asegurado que el despertador sonara a las siete en punto. Aunque mi esfuerzo hubiese sido en vano, aún tenía suficiente tiempo para tomar mi autobús. Me levanté, tomé un baño, me aseguré de agarrar un suéter y salí a la calle un poco adormilado. El aire era fresco y el gris del cielo no opacaba completamente el sol de la mañana.<br /><br />Estoy de regreso en Seattle después de más de dos semanas fuera. No me siento triste por terminar mi viaje o por regresar a la rutina. Siento una especie de energía mezclada con tranquilidad que estoy decidido a aprovechar. Estoy de regreso en este espacio, después de meses de silencios y mi meta es finalmente estar de regreso en mi vida.<br /><br />¿A quién engaño? Sigo enamorado de M como el primer día que lo conocí y nada lo ha cambiado. No el tiempo, no la lógica, no la distancia, no mis viajes. No enfocaré mis energías a enamorarme de alguien más o a desenamorarme. Enfocaré mis energías a ser una mejor persona y a disfrutar de mi vida honestamente.psesitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09879647454615947403noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9330595.post-45934515644649686732009-08-13T22:57:00.001-05:002009-08-13T22:58:58.753-05:00Happiness<em>"It had seemed like the beginning of happiness, and Clarissa is still sometimes shocked, more than thirty years later, to realize that it was happiness; that the entire experience lay in a kiss and a walk, the anticipation of dinner and a book. [...] There is still that singular perfection, and it's perfect in part because it seemed, at time, so clearly to promise more. Now she knows: That was the moment, right then. There has been no other."</em><br /><div align="right">Cunninghan, Michael. The Hours. Page 98</div>psesitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09879647454615947403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9330595.post-24331816600584545662009-07-25T03:24:00.007-05:002010-01-10T17:45:37.706-05:00Call me by your name<div align="justify">Cuando tomas un libro entre tus manos, la distancia entre tus ojos y las páginas normalmente se desvanece y te trasportas a latitudes y épocas diferentes. No obstante, hay ocasiones en las que uno no viaja a pueblitos mediterráneos a principios de los 80s. En contraste, nos damos cuenta que uno de esos pueblitos italianos ya vivía dentro de nosotros, y sólo lo estamos descubriendo en forma de palabras.<br /><br />Hay historias que aunque tal vez no sean tuyas, las haces tuyas -- y esto me pasó con un pequeño librito que leí hace unas semanas llamado "Call me by your name" por André Aciman. Aunque no es una obra maestra literaria, sí es una lectura muy honesta y tierna que me fue prácticamente imposible dejar de leer de principio a fin en cuestión de horas.<br /><br />Me captivó la inocencia del primer amor, de esa vez -- ajena a tu conocimiento, que descubriste fuerza donde sólo existían suspiros.</div><blockquote><p align="left"><em>"He was waiting for me to say something. He was staring at me. This, I think, is the first time I dared myself to stare back at him. Usually, I'd cast a glance and then look away -- look away because I didn't want to swim in the lovely, clear pool of his eyes unless I'd been invited to -- and I never waited long enough to know whether I was even wanted there; look away because I was too scared to stare anyone back; look away because I didn't want to give anything away; look away because I couldn't aknowledge how much he mattered. Look away because that steely gaze of his always reminded me of how tall he stood and how far below him I ranked. Now, in the silence of the moment, I stared back, not to defy him, or to show I wasn't shy any longer, but to surrender, to tell him this is who I am, this is who you are, this is what I want, there is nothing but truth between us now, and where there's truth there are no barriers, no shifty glances, and if nothing comes of this, let it never be said that either os us was unaware of what might happen. I hadn't a hope left. And maybe I stared back because there wasn't a thing to lose now. I stared back with the all-knowing, I-dare-you-to-kiss-me-gaze of someone who both challenges and flees with one and the same gesture."</em></p><p align="right"><em>Aciman, André. "Call me by your name". p78 </em></p></blockquote><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Me captivó la inocencia del primer amor, de esa vez -- ajena a tu conocimiento, que descubriste que tus expectativas son diferentes a las realidades. </div><blockquote><p><em>"I felt like a child who, despite all manners of indirect pleas and hints, find himself unable to remind his parents they'd promised to take him to the toy store." </em></p><p align="right"><em>Aciman, André. "Call me by your name". p192</em> </p></blockquote><br />Me captivó la inocencia del primer amor, de esa vez -- ajena a tu conocimiento, que descubriste que quien más te ama, es también quien más daño puede causarte.<br /><br /><blockquote><p><em>"It never ocurred to me that if one word from him could make me so happy, another could just as easily crush me" </em></p><p align="right"><em>Aciman, André. "Call me by your name". p49</em><br /></p></blockquote><br /><br />Me captivó la inocencia del primer amor, de esa vez -- ajena a tu conocimiento, que ibas creando historia en tu vida, de ese momento en el presente que viviría por siempre en tu futuro.<br /><blockquote><p><em>"Any moment now we were going to say goodbye. Suddenly part of my life was going to be taken away from me now and would never be given back." </em></p><p align="right"><em>Aciman, André. "Call me by your name". p242</em> </p></blockquote><br />Sin embargo, en esta ocasión, en lugar de fomentar el sentimiento del amor primer amor perdido, me quedaré con una frase muy hermosa al comienzo de la historia. Frase que aunque es de nuestro conocimiento, olvidamos frecuentemente.<br /><blockquote><p><em>"P.S. We are not written for one instrument alone; I am not, neither are you."</em></p><p align="right"><em>Aciman, André. "Call me by your name". p13</em></p></blockquote>psesitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09879647454615947403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9330595.post-59561695535778272112009-07-07T00:22:00.003-05:002009-07-07T00:26:26.272-05:00If not later, when?<blockquote><i>"This is my spot. All mine. I come here to read. I can't tell you the number of books I've read here."</i><div><i>"Do you like being alone?" he asked.</i></div><div><i>"No. No one likes being alone. But I've learned how to live with it."</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: right;">Aciman, André. "Call me by your name". Page 76</div></blockquote><div></div>psesitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09879647454615947403noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9330595.post-28872210490031568322009-04-07T01:18:00.002-05:002009-04-07T01:22:40.806-05:00OportunidadesLas oportunidades pasan. Está en nosotros el tomarlas o dejarlas ir. Siempre he pensado que dejar ir oportunidades es una decisión y en ocasiones hay que sabe decir no. No obstante, muchas veces ni siquiera las cuestionamos como posibilidades.<div><div><br /></div><div><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/i9Z8gW8NBks&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/i9Z8gW8NBks&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></div></div>psesitohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09879647454615947403noreply@blogger.com0