Pain...

It dawned on me last night that with all these years gone by, I still hadn't learned that growing up was all about getting hurt. And then getting over it. I get hurt. I recover. I move on. Odds are I will get hurt again. But each time I will manage to learn something...or ideally come out of it a little stronger.

Realization strikes. There are more flavors of pain than tea:

Little empty pains: empty pains of leaving something behind, from the familiar and safe into the unknown
Big overwhelming pains: when life seems to crush all your plans and expectations (mostly when related to people you make these plans with)
Sharp pains: mostly of failure or successes that seemed unsatisfactory
Vicious pains: when your hopes are torn up (mostly by a loved one)
Sweet pains: Finding people, giving them your love and enjoy life with them, all the while knowing it can only be temporary...

Pain has always been a big part of my life...and it did 2 things: it taught me and told me that i was alive. Then it passed away slowly but surely and changed me...
I would like to think it sometimes made me wiser or stronger. Either way, pain leaves its mark, and everything important that will ever happen to you in life is going to involve it in one degree or another.
Everyone is down on pain, because they forget something important about it: Pain is what distinguishes us from God.

Loneliness...

I never thought I should consider myself  a loner. Sure I've felt suicidal. I have stared depression in the eyes and those dark abysmal pools brought no solace whatsoever . I've felt awful, to a point of what I thought was a no-return...I guess loneliness is never really a choice, it is simply the aftermath of  trying to blend into the world...a quest to find the intelligent and sensitive souls who would understand me...finding many people who continue to disappoint me...and a very select few who fill my heart with love and bring smiles to the corners of my lips.

Tonight, alone in my room, bent over my keypad, allowing the strokes to tear the pure silence, I'll quote Ibsen, "The strongest people are the most alone."

Beautiful People...

It recently came to my attention that I did not know many beautiful people in real life closely.

And I was right :) Beautiful people are the last ones you want to befriend!

They tend to float through life thinking that it's perfectly normal for others to gaze at them adoringly, and open doors for them, and follow their opinions... 

Doesn't anyone understand that beautiful people are stupid? That's why nature made them beautiful, so they'd have a chance at surviving in the wild.

And how do they survive? They use people and then they drop people, and they float away on the waves of their own gorgeousness to the next poor girl who thinks that being friends with a beautiful person will somehow make her beautiful, too.

I've got news for you: Hanging around beautiful people just makes you uglier by comparison.

Shh!

Sometimes I feel that it's easier not to say anything. 

The wise option can be to simply shut my trap, button my lip, can it or whichever expression suits your fancy. All that crap you hear on TV about communication and expressing feelings is a lie. Nobody really wants to hear what you have to say. They just want to hear you say what they want to hear.

Did you say depressive?

Everyone, at some point in their lives, wakes up in the middle of the night with the feeling that they are all alone in the world, and that nobody loves them now and that nobody will ever love them, and that they will never have a decent night's sleep again and will spend their lives wandering blearily around a loveless landscape, hoping desperately that their circumstances will improve, but suspecting, in their heart of hearts, that they will remain unloved forever.

The best thing to do in these circumstances is to wake somebody else up, so that they can feel this way, too...

Indifference...

The quality I most covet in most people I care about is their indifference. Unlike me, and unlike so many of us, these special ones seem to have an internal stop button, a buffer beyond which their feelings do not extend. 

They experience life with the same transcendent loves and bottomless despairs and somehow come off as totally indifferent...pacific...whilst I tend to look more like a one-off freak.

It takes 43 muscles to frown and 17 to smile. However it doesn't take any to just sit there with a dumb look on your face. Should I try it? :-)

Soulmates...

Most people I have met seem to think that a soulmate is their perfect fit, potentially their life partner...and that is what everyone wants.

Now isn't that total hokum! (forgive my bluntness)

It's like people believe all you need to do to is like the same bands  or singers in order to be soulmates...or book. 

Exbihit A: "omg...You like Paulo Coelho's The Zahir too...wow it's like we're the same person!"

No we're not!it's like we have the same English teacher. There's a difference... 

I think a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life.

A true soul mate is probably the most important person you'll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake.(not always in the gentlest way possible but who can blame them?)

But to live with a soul mate forever? Hell NO! Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then leave.

A soul mates purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life...

Lucky are those who met their soulmates, and for those who just realised it was not who they thought, take your torch lights and go on into the night. Somebody is out there.

Unzipping the Jacket

Blogging arenas make my knees weak, not in a heart-melting emotionally chaotic way, but the way a caped matador surely feels when he sees those bloodshot eyes riveted on him in the bullring. 

In an absolutely insecure feat of mind over body, I have decided to set my soul bare on this virgin page...will I now be known as the Cristina Sánchez of bloggers? 

As I delve into these precious illusions of mine (who have never let me down by the way), I look forward to forgetting who I was to become who I am. 

What part of my history will be reinvented or under rug swept?

Don't forget to tune in next...this season is going to blow...my mind.