unicidades

The windows were small and tall. So out of her reach she had to climb up in her bed to open them. The windows themselves did not open to the street or to the sky. The windows faced a corridor that had a special type of brick. She grew up without seeing most of sky. She opened boxes in the meantime. Boxes that contained books. The Book of Life. Recipe books (recipes they never made in the house). The Bible. She soon decided the Bible wasn't for her. She preferred the poetry book her dad had written for her mom. It had a glassy blue cover and golden letters. He wrote in blue. Passionately.  The bedroom where her brother and her used to sleep was dark and cold. They lived in a big house that hadn't been built in its entirety. The functional and small areas were a kitchen, a garage (turned into a bedroom), a future library (turned into a bedroom), a bathroom, a laundry room and a corridor. As time went by, the future library was used as a master bedroom, but became a living r

As I sit here in this office that is gray and noisy, I press the repeat button on a song that means so much to me. All my life I knew where I was going to and who I was going to be. I was going to be a professional. I was going to be independent. I was going to be someone. And that way, without knowing who I really was, I ventured into becoming. I didn't walk a straight line. I fell many times. Success as we imagine it or how we see around it around of us, was never reached by me. I am not famous. I am not popular. I am not rich. I felt stuck for a long time.  Right here, in this precise moment, I realize that even though I was searching and searching for better ways to live, I missed out who I was. It's this way I have of not making a big deal out of anything. I take myself for granted. I am honest. Big deal. Everybody should be honest. I am a good person, big deal. Everybody should be a good person. No need to reward myself.  How can I blame you for not seeing me? I