Sometimes, I desire. Desiring is painful, because does not belong to time. It has not begining, it has no end. It is just a mist than involves you. It makes you blind to the true light of the world. Desire is the curse of the whole humanity. Desire is the illusion of the mind...

La añoranza golpea fuerte a veces, y se te adhiere a la piel, como esta niebla que tuvimos el otro día, que comenzaba por chuparte las mejillas y acababa oxidando la calavera...

Hoy hemos tenido cielo azul al medio día, después de una mañana gris (pero al menos con algo de luz, pensé). Y aún así hay momentos en los que me siento sola, homesick, no sabía realmente lo que significaba esa palabra hasta que llegué aquí y de repente todas mis ideas tuvieron que amoldarse a las estructuras de un lenguaje completamente diferente.

Intento no pensar en ello y hacer muchas cosas, y eso funciona. Cuando una se siente homesick lo mejor es rodearse de gente en el pub y charlar, como he hecho esta noche. Al final siempre te llevas una sorpresa agradable. La gente es tan diferente por dentro a como aparenta ser por fuera... una cruda realidad pero también una bendita verdad, si queréis saber mi opinión.


Soy una chica con zapatos nuevos, y tengo rozaduras en mis tobillos... heridas sangrantes que laten dolorosamente, por mucho que disfrute andando el camino de baldosas amarillas.

Today, while I was studing kanji, different ideas flew around my head, (and none of them involved this Chinese symbols, I am afraid).

Today in Edinburgh we have had mist, that is, a complete night, no sun, no light, just darkness and misterious shadows. It could seem depressing, bust if you are Edgar Allan Poe you can be imaging some horror story about the darkest sides of human's soul... (no, a sunny day cant get you in the right mood for scary tales).

For me, it has been pretty mix up. On the one hand, I feel excited about a new idea I have had, maybe writing, because I am a writer (I put one word after the other, as you can see) and I am supposed to do so: writing, writing, writing!

On the other hand the mist has made me feel a bit sad and lonely and I have been tempeted of doing a big one-self tragedie, but no worries, now I realised I prefer writing fiction.

And talking with my loved ones (some of them, about others I have not heard much these days) always give me strenght. I think I have to be strong to make them happy, to share my life with them, to make themselves proud...

Ahh, misty days are like a misterious and humid book hidden in a dark lonely library... You always get surprises in one way or another...

I swear, I always intend going to bed early, as the responsible young woman I am, but every time providence send me a distraction (or directly  catastrophe, as I will show you know).

It happened that I was tidying my room just before jumping into bed when a unexpected guest entered into my room runing as faster as hell. And I would have welcomed she (or he, I do not really now yet) but for the fact she/he was kind of... special. Eight legs. Long legs. A very huge body. An enormous spider. And when I say that I am not exaggerating. (Writers never exaggerates everybody nows that for sure).

I remained stuck in the flor, trembling, as my... unexpected guest hid under the bed.

When the... unexpected vision of her/his brown body disappeared into the shadows, I could at last breathe and move. I did not know what to do. I am a pacifist, so I consider the idea of just convincing her/him to leave, just using speaking, non-offesive methods. I do not like killing, even when we are talking about insects, for example, who are commonly mascred between human beings, who considere them generally disgusting. Insects are not disgusting for me, but are scary, I do not why, probably because some old information written in my genoma long, long time ago, when the people in the wild had to be really careful with this little (and often poisonous) companions...

The thing is, I was really scared but something was clear: I could not sleep knowing that this huge... being was sleeping (or not, that was what really frightened me) under my bed. But I did not have the strenght to face her/him. So in the end I decided to call V., who is a girl and also one of the Resident Assistant in the place where I live. She was really nice, understanding and quick. She flew to my room in a couple of minutes. However, in that small amount of time my... unexpected guest run another little marathon around the room, which make me feel ill while I consider the idea of climbing over the table... Just for avoiding a possible attack of this being that seemed more scared than me, yes, but you never know, specially when one is under pressure...

But I would tell in my defense, for those who think that I am just a coward, that V. told me it was the biggest spider she has never seen in Edinburgh. And I thought it was a pity. There are a lot of people doing Biology in this residence. Having gone to visit one of them, my unexpected guest would have been much more well treated... but me, a poor artist, a sensible creature of letters and lover of the invisible things... the fear made me blind to all the possible enchants of this poor spider (I am sure she/he should have them).

In the end, the unexpected guest tried to run his/her third marathon but she/he found herself/himself under a shoe in the most violently way. Inmediatly she/he suffered another hit and become, literally, part of the fitted carpet's design.

It is a cruel destiny, I know. And for those who believe in karma or reincarnation... well, I think I would better not think about that.

As my mother told me:

-The spider should have been more scared as you... Just imagine you were the spider!

No, I would not like to.

Who knows. Maybe she/he was so big because she/he was a mutant spider. Considering that true, a biting of this spider would made me have extraordinary powers, as, for example, Spiderman...





Oh, Gods.

All in this mottie, misty clime,
I backward mus'd on wasted time,
How I had spent my youthfu' prime,
An' done nae-thing,
But stringing blethers uo in rhyme
For fools to sign.

I cannot be more agreed with my dear Mr. Burns. Specially, because I have spent an hour trying to understand this scottish jumble for an hour without succes (just a few words, ocasionally sentences, and by the time I could understand the whole thing I was so tired and frustrated that I did not fancy poetry or methaporicals meanings and stuff like that).

So, I have decided that maybe after a year being in Scotland I may begin to feel the songs of her most loved and rebelleous son, but today I just leave the books in their place (the shelves) and I will go outside.

Today we have sun!

That is most beautiful than all the scottish poems. No words can describe the happiness I feel. No rhymes. No Burns.

I dreamt that am evil spirit, a creature beyond darkness and sorrow, came into my home. It was hidden in a friendly face.  Playing the tricks of confidence, it got access to my house. And when I realized, it was inside. I was inside. My family too. And I cannot make it leave.

I tried everything. The fear soffocated my heart. Fear from something that has no name. The fear of the hunter that becomes the prey . Fear born from the instincts of Nature.

Suddenly, the creature tried to hurt her, the other one who has been in the same obscure place that I was once. I remember myself jumping directly in the little table at the dining room, shouting, don't touch her, don't you dare. It was not me, so it was not fear. And I claimed then the sacred words, the secret misteries which are only used in such occassions. And I made it go away. I am not sure how or by what means, what I did it.

There just one thing more strong thant fear...

and I am not going to tell you what it is, but believe me, everyone knows it. Or, at least, everyone knew it once...

Today, the Muse has appeared in front of me. So suddenly that my head has begun rolling. The beatings of my hear were like and earthquake.

If she was beauty or no I cannot tell. She held a enormous umbrella (this is the problem with the Scottish weather) I can hardly distinct the feautures of her face. Anyway, I am not Burns. That is why I do not think about sleeping with her. Instead, I will ask her to stay with me. Even if the weather is no so wonderful as in the meadows of the Olimpus... I really want her with me for a long, long time.