No puedo comentar más.
Se llamaba Andrea y fue mi compañera desde la primaria, cuando yo me vine a vivir con mi papá perdimos mucha comunicación pero jamás se perdió la amistad.
La última vez que la vi fue el pasado mes de diciembre yo pasaba unos días con mi mamá y mi prima organizó una salida, asi como una especie de rencuentro.
Una o dos veces platiqué con ella por el messenger y ahora que se fue se que se le va extrañar, ya que como cada uno de mis amigos ella también formó parte de mi vida.
Hoy vuelvo a reafirmar que tengo muchas cosas por las cuales dar gracias, una gran familia, amigos, la niña que amo y sobre todo salud para poder seguir adelante.
Andreita te nos fuiste de este mundo pero te quedas en nuestro corazones.
Los efectos son muy buenos pero la verdad la historia llega un momento en que se vuelve película de Rambo y la neta eso no me gustó nadita.
Una recomendación es que vallan a ver "Diario de una pasión" y "Anaconda II" la primera me gustó bastantito, historia bastantante buena y la segunda pussssss te hjace pasar un rato muy chido además de que los efectos y la pinche anaconda se ven chidas chidas.
Haría falta que vayan a ver estas movies y me comenten que opinan.
Un saludo a todos los visitantes.
Horas pasaron y no logré encontrar respuesta.
Noches y noches seguí pensando sin poder dormir.
Un día, de pronto, después de pensar y decidir que nada bueno me podría pasar,
encontré es una persona, la cual había sido mi confidente, una nueva forma de ver la vida.
Ahora mi problema ya no era el no poder dormir pensando en mi vida, si no pensar
en que como podría formar una vida con ella.
Días pasaron y sin pensarlo descubrí que ella era para mi y que no podría dejarla ir por
nada.
Sería imposible seguir hablando de las cosas que me hace sentir ya que nunca terminaría.
Pero puedo decir que antes de dormir, pienso en ella y sigo pensando en que hice para
merecer la vida que llevo, la punica diferencia es que mi vida pasada era vacia
y esta nueva vida no lo es.
Llevo dos años felizmente casado, tengo una hermosa esposa y ya estamos pensando en tener hijos.
Como todos los días me levanto muy temptrano para ir a trabajar, pero al levantarme veo a mi esposa entrar al cuerto con una sonrisa poco usual, yo como siempre le dije -Hola amor buenos días- y ella no contestó nada, eso me hizo pensar que algo estaba pasando y asi era, nunca imaginé que la noticia que me iba a dar esa mañana iba a cambiar mi vida totalmente. Me vio a los ojos y me dijo -Amor, mi madre viene a pasar unos días con nosotros- en ese momento sentí que me habían metido una fuerte patada en los gumaros, no inventen mi suegra iba venir a la casa, a pasar unos días con nosotros, ¿por qué jodidos?
Todo el camino al trabajo pensaba y pensaba en que inventar para que la señora no viniera pero nada era efectivo, ya después de muchas horas me hice a la pinche idea y dije, ¿qué tan malo puede ser? me hice a la diea, preparé la bienvenida y todo estaba listo.
El día poco esperado había llegado, era de temprano y mi esposa y yo nos levantamos temprano para ir por la señora al aeropuerto. Ella llevaba ya varios años viviendo en Cancún donde se casó y en menos de un años el esposo le pidió el divorcio.
Pero regresando a la mañana, llegamos al aeropuerto y estuvimos esperando cerca de 35 minutos a que llegara el avión, cuando de pronto se abre la puerta, empezó a salir mucha gente, yo sentía que las piernas se me doblaban, pero de pronto, llegó.
Cuando la vi me quedé sin habla, la señora traía un short amarillo, playera azul con un letrero que dice " a mi me gusta Acapulco" y una gorra de Mickey Mouse, no podía cagarme de la risa así que tuve que aguantarme las ganas.
Se acercó a nosotros, abrazo a su hija, le dio un beso y cuando estaba esperando que me saludara, me aventó las chingadas maletas, y lo peor es que tuve que chingarme a cargar desde la sala 23 hasta la 1.
Ya en al auto la señora nos venía contando acerca de como estuvo el viaje, no puedo describir la sensación que tenía en ese momento, era como si hubiera llegado para quedarse y por ahi pasareme a chingar la vida.
Asi comienza esta historia y luego les contaré lo que pasó después.
La vida con mi suegra (Segunda parte)
Después de un largo camino a la casa porfín llegamos, vaya que el camino fue tenso tenso.
Como era de esperarse un desayuno nos estaba esperando pero desde ese momento empezó mi trauma. La señora se sentó y empezó a criticar cada rincón de la casa, que porque la sala estaba sucia, que los platos, que la zona ¡jodidos ya!
No manchen hasta la comida me supo fea, pero que le haces tienes que sonreir porque si no tu señora se pone loca loca y en una de esas se pone del lado de su jefa y se te va de la casa.
Ye terminando de desayunar me fui al trabajo, todo estruvo bien ya que ese día no tenía muchas cosas que hacer pero todo cambió cuando llegué a mi casa.
Cuando llegué iba dispuesto a darme un baño e irme a dormir ya que después de despertarme muy temprano para ir la suegra tenía que descansar, cuando entré a la casa todo parecía muy tranquilo, hasta llegué a pensar que fueron a la tienda o algo pero no era así.........
Entré a mi cuarto, y de pronyo ¡no jodan! veo a mi suegra y a mi esposa acostadas viendo la novela, mascarilla de aguacate y tragando palomitas.
¿Qué jodidos haces? no le puedes decir a tu ñora-oye saca a tu jefa que quiera descansar- pero yo quiero dormir, estoy en mi casa,a fi de cuentas jamás se salió, ni darme un baño pude y hasta sin cama me quedé.
La vida con mi suegra (Tercera parte)
Ya han pasado algunos días de que la señora llegó, todo ha sido sumamente extralño, ni un pedo agusto puedo echarme porque la vieja está ahi.
Por que he tratado de llevar la situación en paz no se puede siempre encuentra la manera más linda y cariñosa pa chingarme el día.
El otro día, por la mañana, me metí a bañar muy temprano y pues ya sabrán ustedes yo estaba muy contento ya secándome cuando a esta mujer que se le ocurre entrar ¡no mamen!
La vieja salió gritándole a mi esposa que yo era un degenerado, que como podía estar casada con alguien así, que yo entré al baño cuando ella estaba ahi.
Yo pensaba que mujer no iba a creer ese tipo de cosas pero no fue así, me dijo que porque me empeñaba en hacer excrobar a su mamá, que parecía niño chikito ¡grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!
Ese día por la noche me fue de borracho con todos mis amigos de la oficina, les conté lo que me estaba pasando y el único y más sabía consejo que recibí fue: ¡siguele chupando pa olvidar!
Ese día llegué tan borracho pero tan borracho que para mi jodida fortuna al siguiente día amanecí acostado con mi suegra -noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo-
Eso acabó tortalmente con la poca armonía que había, mi señora se encabronó, mi suegre me odío por toda su vida y lo peor es que quedé traumado por toda mi pinche vida.
Después de muchos meses la vieja al fin se fue.
Me costó trabajo construir mi matrimonio otra vez pero ya soy feliz.
La neta todos los que tenemos intereses en el sur nos parte la madre, me cae que el otro día pasé como a las 12:00 de la noche y aún había tráfico y yo según haciendo tiempo para que no me pasara eso.
¿Qué es lo que quiere?¿dejar algo a la sociedad y a México? pus creo que ya tenemos bastante con su no muy buen comic ¿no lo creen?
Si nuestro buen jefe de gobierno si se va por la grande , yo como ciudadano votante de este país no le doy mi voto, ¡si señor!
Tenemos un nuevo webloguero, se hace llamar CHIVO y yo los invito a que chequen su weblog ya que escribe cosas chidas.
La historia de mi suegra está escribiendo ya la tercera parte no desesperen.
by C.C.E.
Prologue
People have different ways of acting when they get hurt. Human nature has showed us that unique patterns appear everywhere throughout the world. Some people cry, some people just don’t talk. Some of them hold out to their thoughts, while some others express to everyone how they feel.
I, for once, got tired of getting hurt. These days I can’t remember exactly what happened, or what caused this certain reaction in me. Maybe it is a way of my mind to protect myself. All that I remember is that something happened and I just didn’t want to get hurt anymore.
I started thinking real hard how I could stop these actions that hurt me so much. I knew that just taking me out from society just wouldn’t work, as I had already tried this before. My mind revolted for a couple of days without finding any answer and, what was worse, the pain grew fast. This need caused an internal breakdown. I probably slept for a week or two. I just remember waking up and finding the answer: I needed to be nowhere.
This may sound harder than it is. I remembered walking back from school the other day. First, I was at school, and twenty minutes later I was at my house. But what happened to those twenty minutes between school and my house? I was NOWHERE. If someone called my house, no one would be there. If they looked me at school, they wouldn’t find me. If they checked the malls, the cinemas, the restaurants… they wouldn’t find me. I would just be walking. I would be just a walker.
Chapter I- The First day of the Rest of my Life (or a Week of Mine)
Monday
A weird feeling came on to me when a walked near this certain store. I walked near again a couple of times and the result was the same. This emptiness just stroke me, accompanied by another feeling I didn’t recognize. Why did that happen? It was just a store, another part of my walking path. I hated this place with all my heart and decided to continue. Inside of me, some thing wanted to enter, to discover what had happened there, what made me feel that way. Something attracted me like a magnet to the store. Fortunately, I’ve learnt how to control these feelings. There was nothing that made me stop walking, at least during daytime. Daylight brought the ghosts I didn’t want to meet, ghosts that couldn’t catch on to me if I walked. But that store…
No, I didn’t stop. There was no need to know, as knowledge only brings unhappiness. No, I don’t want to know. In control resides my power. I’m powerful as I can control my feelings, and they don’t affect me as everyone else. And in the power of controlling comes the strength that makes me able to walk all day long. This may sound really crazy, but it isn’t. How can your body know that you’re tired, if your mind doesn’t?
Well, I kept walking. I passed this really beautiful park, with lots of shades. I love shades. And, as you have probably inferred, I hate the sun. He’s just a faceless face that looks at me all day and makes it more difficult for me to continue. I hate him because he kills the darkness I adore.
Tuesday
It’s funny having a round world. I never thought of it, but really everywhere you go you walk in circles because, in the end, you will return to the place you came from. So, is walking a useless action? When this thought crossed my head it almost made me stop. What I’m making is useless? Am I useless? During this lapse I even closed my eyes in order to answer these annoying questions in my head. I almost crashed into a car and a tree in order to find out there was no answer to these questions. Maybe no one knows if they are useful to the world. Maybe someone knows and I will find him.
Nevertheless, this round characteristic of the earth made a beautiful effect on my walking today. As I was crossing an unknown city, I thought a monster was emerging in the earth’s surface. Gigantic, colossal. As I advanced my eyes started filling with the beautifulness of the building I had stupidly mistaken with a monster.
It took me long to find enough words to describe it. It looked like a cathedral, but it reflected a real mood of sadness. It was gloomy and suspicious, as if the building had a mind of its own. It wasn’t a cathedral, because it didn’t irradiate any sense of divinity. On the contrary, it opened a feeling for sin, for luxury. I stared at it for hours, and watched it grow as if it were my baby. I feel in love with that “Sin Cathedral” that appeared into my world.
I wanted to enter, and as I grew nearer this desire of mine intensified. When I finally could see its doors my mind was already in there. I could see myself touching its gray walls, climbing up the stairs to claim myself the king of that enormous hill. I wanted to meet the people that built it, the souls of those who reside in it. But as I drew nearer I didn’t only see the doors, but I also saw they were closed. My head screamed a “Noooo!!” that continued to play for several minutes. Not only closed, but locked with frightful chains. A forbidden place, I thought, a forbidden place for me. I need to find the key.
The night finally came, and I found a really nice bench I the shadow of the cathedral. It was like a blanket for me, protecting me from the moon’s light. I said good night to the cathedral and feel into a deep sleep.
Wednesday
Sadness. A tear streamed down my face as I turned and saw the cathedral shrinking quickly, even quicker than it had appeared. I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t entered, that somehow my loved building rejected me. It didn’t allow me to discover it secrets. Maybe I’m not worthy… yet.
I dreamt last night that I found the key that opened the doors of the cathedral. It was a place full of light; nevertheless, I was not walking around. On the contrary, I stood still for about fifteen minutes just looking at it and wondering if it was the key. I took it with extensive care, and felt the warmth of its body in my hand. The key, as the cathedral, felt as if it were alive, almost human. It begged me to use it, to use it and enter the forbidden cathedral. Then it disappeared in my hands and it all became blurry.
Was this dream a prophecy? A look into the future? The present? Or the past? Not having memories can be really annoying sometimes. As that key also seemed marvelously familiar to my touch…
I kept walking and watching the cathedral get smaller and smaller. Its highest tower finally disappeared, and I decided that I would have to find that key someday, someday before I die. I was angry at myself for not knowing the mystery that the cathedral hid from me, for not having the necessary skills to find out. Maybe when I have walked a whole circle around the world I would find it again and know what I have to do.
Thursday (or the day before Friday)
As I started walking today a woman came up to me and started walking besides me. She started telling me that walking is a good exercise for your body and that she did it almost everyday. She also used it as a way of having time for herself. She told me she walked for an hour before returning to her house. Then she asked me if I also walked everyday. As I answered a quick ‘yes’ she turned back and told me she’d see me again another day.
This lady made me really curious. I didn’t know why she had come to me and talked to me. I don’t remember talking to anyone else while I walked. I didn’t even know I could do that. I also didn’t know I could go in the other direction. Why do I walk this way? Why don’t I walk the other way?
I slowed down my pace and tried to analyze these questions. I walk this way simply because I chose to, because I have the power of freedom, the power of choice. I walk this way everyday and maybe one day I will decide to walk another way. I was glad to find out I still had my strength. I still had that power of choice and control over myself.
But I still didn’t know why did that woman talked to me. She was walking, too. Are there other people in the world like me? Other people that like to walk? That want to be nowhere? How can I find those who are nowhere?
Nowhere is a state of being. Nowhere is not a place. I have to find those who are nowhere, in order to find out why I am nowhere.
Friday
I hate Fridays. When it’s Friday there’s always more people around, walking like me. But these people are and walk somewhere. I don’t hate these people. I just feel so different from them that there is no chance I can relate to them. And then… on Fridays people like to walk around. They don’t have a purpose, although I have sometimes thought that their purpose is to make my walking more difficult.
I am so different because my walking has a purpose. Because I walk for a reason. Walking around for no reason makes me angry. Oh, I hate Fridays so much. I see so many people walking. And now that I’m looking for people nowhere, Fridays make it so much harder.
Also, on Fridays, people are cynically happy. They pretend that everything is ok, just because that day they can go out and grab a beer. They think that it is the end of a week, and that on the next day everything will be new and purified. It’s not.
I kept walking and found myself on the end of this particular city. I was glad that there was almost no one around, except for a huge road. The end of the city meant the end of people. The end of people on Fridays. I hate Fridays.
Saturday and Sunday (weekend on the road)
It’s getting late. The sun went down early today, but I still kept walking. I never had experienced the feeling of walking under the moon. As it gazes down the hills, the moon watches me in awe. She doesn’t believe that someone dares to walk under its force. I smile and know that the moon doesn’t want to lose control, the control of the night.
As I kept walking in this desert that divided the two metropolises, I noticed that the night changed everything. At night I could observe new plants, new animals, new living things that walked with me in my never ending path. At night the dominating color was black. And black gave me more control. I fell asleep.
My dreams weren’t very calm. I dreamt I was captured. I don’t know who captured me or why did they did it, but these three shadows caught up with me and took me into a horrible white room. I couldn’t walk… nor move. They treated me as a baby, talked to me in whispers, insulted me. I turned to see my hands… and they were covered in blood. Panic streamed up to my brain, finishing the nightmare I was having.
As I woke up, I realized it was almost daytime. The sun was coming anytime soon, and I hadn’t started walking yet. For the first time, I had overslept. And for the first time, when I woke up, I felt lonely in this vast desert.
I started walking faster than usual. I wanted to get to the next city, and to see people. To see people and to look for nowhere.
Monday (again)
Why is it Monday again? Does nobody else see the irony of having the same day every seven days? I always thought it would be funnier to give each day a name. But sadly, I have never thought a name I like so much that I can name a day after it.
I was crossing the street when I saw this child that was lost. I stopped and took a look at his face. His blue eyes, otherwise beautiful, were really red and puffy. His cheeks were reddish and he just didn’t stop sobbing. I must have looked at him for an hour or so. And during that our no one noticed that beautiful little boy crying. They didn’t notice a stranger staring at him. I just couldn’t believe he, of all people, was so lonely and lost. I just couldn’t believe nobody noticed. I was nowhere and he, he was nowhere too. He was Nuncio.
Coming soon…
Chapter II- Nuncio, The messenger