8, 760 hours

I am breathing... oui Mariele à 2400 m le vent est plus froid... es el hecho de no estar a esa altura en un avion sino mas bien sentada en una tierra mística... here is your closure.

CRONICA QUASI-DETALLADA

Hour -720: Gin and Tonic, I am going to Argentina. Life does not develop as I planned any longer, plans are there to be destroyed, to be laughed at, to be written so they can be forgotten when they are replaced with reality.

Hour -254: I am selfish, but if I don't take it today who knows what is going to happen tomorrow. I will miss you, I am missing out, what did I just missed?

Hour 5: Please refer to the post "The Culture of Magical Realism"

Hour 89: Las Madres de Plaza de Mayo. As minutes pass by I wait for the next subte, Plaza Italia, 10 cuadras, the hostel, Anglophone music, ipod on Gardel, confused Mexican calling to Toronto to talk to her Dutch-Peruvian-Italian best friend. I should have visited a psychologist since week one in Buenos Aires... you know to fully live the porteño life.

149: Joyeux anniversaire, ni idea que hubiera hecho esos tres meses sin vos, perdon si no estuve despues.

1440: Pampa del Indio: no Gurruchaga, minus one friend. WOW I do love what I have, I am happy, I am learning, I am doing... doing something, living, breathing, feeling.

2160: Tears, tears, emptiness, confusion, restlessness, broken dreams, empty horizons. Welcome to Toronto, Bienvenue à Toronto.

2328:........ chaos.... chaos..........chaos.......who do I call now? I am not crying, I am trying to find myself without your help but it seems to me that everyone in this damn city is so stupid or my English sucks so much that I cannot explain what is going on.

DEAD HOURS

Double standards; this country is the land of double standards, pseudo-academic integrity over human rights. Hipster nation; please give me an organic fair traded soy latte, while i try on my new American Apparel t-shirt, read about environmentalism in a main stream magazine and dream about going to exotic Thailand. Hypocrisy nation; "so different than any other Western country" I think the Toronto Star reports three more Canadian soldiers killed in Afghanistan, they died liberating these oppressed nation and bringing democracy... less than 50% Canadians vote. Fake Multiculturalism; you are so exotic, so do you miss South American food?, do you salsa? Ignorance, when I went to Cuba (read the resort) it was so different people where so poor like but they were so happy. I LOVE CANADA and that is why a privileged upper-middle class Mexican girl gets to over-exaggerate her non-Western personality, romanticize her quasi war-torned country, play her global south epistemology, openly critique Western supremacism, excuse her mistakes through an overemphasized accent and justify misbehaviour through cultural differences. So... I don't love hockey, but I will be walking around with my flag on Friday, I cook Mexican food for my white friends, I teach them couple of Spanish words now and then, I've taken them to a Latin Club, I hate Harper, I ride a bike and complain about lousy Torontonian drivers, and I shop in Kengsinton Market.... Can I get my Permanent residency now so I can freaking move on without thinking about the future??... Wait you are right for the past 5,000 hours I have lost myself... maybe it means that is time to run once again...

REENCUENTRO, RENAISSANCE Y POTENCIAL DESPEDIDA

7, 440: Dear facebook, (since my blog got mad at me due to my lack of inspiration and my rather emo posts, I can only express this message through you) I am going to Peru, I am going back home, I am making it to the wedding, I am... doing what I love. Hopefully, you will share it with my friends; hopefully, that way they will know that after this trip I should be better, I will be better.

Unknown hours: reality check, reverse culture shock, reality check, reverse culture shock, nostalgia, happiness, wow that tastes amazingly!, weird accent, energy flowing, crush, self-esteem boost, adrenaline, lack of sleep, touching the forbidden, tears, beauty, life, stereotypes, taboos, social rules, wake-up call, wake-up call, wake-up call... let me keep on dreaming I want to keep on flying before I have to crash and fall into the dead grass.

8, 759: One year, one year... I think the storm has passed... or might have found a new umbrella.

AMANECER

The cathedral in Cusco is one of the most impressive things I have seen, the Spaniards incorporated mirrors in the altar piece to attract the indigenous nations into catholicism. Just as they did in Tenochtitlan, they built a massive church over sacred temples. I saw myself in the mirror of one of the chapels; I was so attracted to Northern mirrors that I forgot that an entire foreign Church was smashing my brain. As I de-froze from seeing my aged image in the main altar I felt the cold air of Cusco for the first time, left the headphones, sat outside and started chewing the coca leaves that were left. That night there was light, it wasn't the reflection of the glitter over my face; that night I smiled again like I hadn't in months; that night I rediscovered my forgotten ruins, pinté mi espejo azul rey con motivos prehispánicos y decidí que mi siguiente amanecer seria uno nuevo, uno diferente. 22 hours later the sun started to light up Machu Picchu, as the magic energy of the Inca city invaded my body, I felt the necessity to climb Wayna Picchu... à 2400 m le vent est plus frais...et moi... je respire, je vis, j'y reviens.

Thank you, Si lo rompe lo paga

I started shaking, I tried to breath; not even the most intensive Yoga class would have helped at that moment. My heart started beating so fast, once again I did not feel any air going into my lungs. You broke me, but you couldn't have done it without my help. Yo ya estaba quebrada y tu solo llegaste a romperme. By now I have no idea how many nights I have not slept, how many nightmares, how many tears... I am still in pain.

I was afraid to destroy you. I do like you so much. Because I was afraid I ended up destroying you. I know you love me. I destroyed myself and I am afraid I will regret not picking up your pieces from the mess I made. I don't understand either how did we end up in this point. I've realized it is all those nights I want to call you, the nights I spent here, just so you know one day when I know where I am standing I will let you know about my blog.

... I just need to talk to somebody; She would not look at me, she saw my pain, but she would avoid becoming a witness. There is no one you can talk to, maybe you can come back tomorrow, I can give you a card with an emergency number. It is OK if I wanted to kill myself I would have done it already, nunca lo haria: ironicamente me da miedo fallar porque no me gustan los hospitales. I sat down and started crying aqui frente a una extrania nuevamente siempre pense que no lo necesitaria, era sola yo y mi loquera con mis libretas, cualquier profesional de la salud me aterroriza. Abrame el cerebro, quiteme la parte que me molesta y regreseme a donde estaba antes, si el seguro lo cubre por favor reactive la capacidad de concentracion.

... I did leave, but you never came to find me, it is not my social construction from a stupid romantic comedy. I waited 4.5 years and you never came so now don't come up with your cheesy no-distances well-memorized discourses. Thank you, you did not break me you kept me sane, you kept me healthy with a non-sense (or non-rational since we both live in the West) hope, until you decided to become like everyone else. We had something special, but you and your iPod had to ruin it. If you care go and fucking fix it, I am moving on soon, if you were wondering -just as a friendly reminder- I never promised what you are now requesting.

... I can see that you are very attached with your family, Maria, and it is important, it is hard(er?) when you are away...

... You would have loved my graduation pictures you would have been so happy to see them, to see the website you would have loved everything about it even if you didn't speak a word of English. I will never get over it, I refuse to... I don't want to let you go... not yet.

Freedom of expression, fear to fail, academic integrity, personal values... do you seriously think that is my priority now? you did not break me you did not; I did, and while I decide whether I want to remain broken or start picking up my pieces please shut up, it would be good if you and you apply the only teaching I like from your colonizing background... el que este libre de pecado que aviente la primera piedra. Thank you, you don't owe me anything, and I didn't break it thus I don't pay.

Old empires

Our gods fight against each other while we pretend we are in love mine usually win, in the game of paranormal warfare death remains unbeatable. We are the same souls, descendants of great empires, conquered without a choice, adopting a foreign religion that eventually became a domestic curse. Both at the end immigrants to a country where we constantly feel we will never belong.

While you pretend I am yours (yes, I still have a problem with private property), I continue on playing my will-never-commit-will-always-run-away game,  

where are your gods? mine by now just go and get drunk out of the blood of

the less-fitted survivors of global capitalism and neoliberal North America.

We are so similar and yet you seem like you don't want to see it, 

you want your pain to be unique, incomparable, exclusive, 

remarkable, rare, indivisible et héroïque.

Your gods should have thought you that everyone's pain is. Sorry to kill your dream, mine didn't tell me, I just read it in an article on a pagan magazine. 

Can each one go back to our smuggled heroine?

Technicolor walls become obstacles between us

they were built while we slept, in silence, secretly, obscurely.

Your schizophrenia will make you think I betrayed you by building them

my paranoia will make me believe that someone is trying to break us.

They were built by our own gods, and our fellow followers, 

I used to love you with an immeasurable passion I devoted all my time to you. I guess this is the infidel's and the heretic's pain, now I hate you.

Why did you have to take over my nightmares too?

Subtitles and (emo) Latin Pop

Where do I start translating? Maybe I should give you some background information before I start writing subtitles and you misinterpret them... Oh I'm sorry I didn't know you are just used to songs in English, so you don't want subtitles then? ok so it will be like a transliteration.... yeah I will save my background info, and the history and my social constructions if you don't want me to. 

Quizá no fue coincidencia encontrarme contigo, tal vez esto lo hizo el destino.... ''Maybe it wasn't a coincidence running into you, maybe it was destiny...''

If it wasn't a coincidence why you've been like following me for several days like, are you a psycho or something? 

Quiero dormirme de nuevo en tu pecho... ''I want to sleep again on your chest...''

Ok listen it was a one night thing I mean like it didn't mean anything it was just sex...or do you have some sort of like obsession with me?

Sabes que estoy colgando en tus manos, así que no me dejes caer... ''You know you hold my heart in your hands, so don't let me fall...''

No, seriously you are taking this to intense I mean I haven't even told you that I love you or anything like we are two individuals doing our own thing like, and we like to have fun together...

 

Te envio poemas de mi puño y letra... ''I am sending you poems..' /ENOUGH!!! Poems? Are you fucking kidding me??!!! what are you like a poet now?? what the hell just buy me dinner... why would you write these things like I barely have time to have sex like; you do get that I have to wake up at 6 am every day to go to work and I want to rest on the weekends. You seriously need help from like a specialist.

Y así me recuerdes y me tengas presente; cuidado, cuidado, que mi corazon esta colgando en tus manos... ''So that way you will remember me and keep in mind that you are holding my heart in your hands... be careful...' WHAT!!!??? are you threatening me?!! I am so calling the police like seriously you have an issue it is not my fault that you have issues you know...

No perderé la esperanza de hablar contigo....

We do have to talk... you see I think its not working... I mean like we had our fun.. buuut you started acting like, all weird and psycho like you are really obsessive and I can't date someone like that... you know what I mean right?...

Hoy amanecí con ganas de enviarte algo que te guste y pueda regalarte, te hice esta canción que es para recordarme, esta es una excusa para declararme hoy quiero decirte voy a adelantarme que mi corazon yo quiero regalarte. Y los 14 de febrero regalarte mil flores...

Why do you keep on doing that? like... you know I don't speak Mexican!!!!

Sorry I am being (E)stupid... 

You like it when I shake it?

Shawty on a mission, what your name is?

What, you want me naked?

If you like this position, you can tape it on your video phone....

Meeting with Tezcatlipoca

I have played your game and I am satisfied

In the masquerade of eternal night

I did not take off the pink mask,

you said the night would lead me to the waltz.

I played the game as we agreed:

I dance across the land wearing the black high-hills

you let me look through the black mirror

I am your feet, you become the light.

I am not what you think I am,

I knew I had to moderate my opinions from the start

you were not going to tolerate my blasphemies

I anticipated you wouldn't play otherwise.

Let it be clear; this was a 'fair' game

it was inherently based on reciprocity

I used you, you used me

there were no hidden promises nor unfulfilled expectations.

After four years your feet were swollen

after 52 months my eyes were blinded

the black light merged with the rocky floor

I was frustrated and you were bored.

We sat down together on the red couch

and gave up in order to make voodoo dolls

I joked about my dreams of changing the world

you laughed about your idea of selling my soul.

I confessed that I do envy them for having what I gave up

you suggested that I should cut the crap between us

when our contract is over it would be only me and the sun

wake up Mariele, your essay still has to be done before dawn. 

El Porvenir de mis Recuerdos

Suddenly the fog appears, invading the leave-less threes. 

 Last Farsi class, research for that big essay,

$30,000 short for the "project of my life", presentation on the last class

I did not even know there was going to be a final exam.

Do you tell people the truth of how did things happen if this is going to ruin their memories?

 Am I romanticizing my memories as an excuse to get back to you?

Is your memory blurring the decisions we are taking?

When did we stop memorizing each other's words and started focus on something else?

 This once self-imposed Alzheimer took control over my memories

at first I was sure it was me who was classifying the ones I wanted to see,

your eyes, their voice, their smiles, the napkin, that subway line, the train ride, 

her face, our stars, my two books and the purple shoes.

It all ended when I started to over-analyse what do those memories mean

I alienated so many memories so they would not hurt, so I would not miss you 

and somehow here I am not only forgetting them but also myself.

The oppressed rising up against the oppressor, 

the oppressor managing to silence the oppressed... 

we all know how does the story end. 

"You must a very bright person" No, I am just bored. 

Toma de fotos, incesantes flashes, sillas vacias, y una esquina sin retorno

Movimiento transnacional de personas con constante nostalgia de lo que alguna vez llamaron hogar.. et ca se passe comment si je suis une SDF?

where is my plane ticket? I don't like this electronic excuse!

Jugar sobre el tablero del cosmpolitanismo tiene sus complicaciones

¿soy yo la que lo veo muy tarde? ó ¿simplemente me olvidé de tomarlo en cuenta?

 El recuerdo de mi porvenir previsto bajo las estrellas intermintentes lejos está de acercarse a lo que le espera a mi memoria del presente cuando el porvenir se acerque al pavimento lleno de nieve.

11% out of the 200 Years of Solitude were well lived.

What do I do with the other percent that will take more in the years to come?

Do I get my USB to save the memories I need to narrate the story once again?

Oh yeah... I should just upload them that way you do not need to see my face. 

"Félicitations, Maria" For what? I was just doing my job.

Keys to the last supper... sorry last breakfast.

I actually started laughing. Maybe I shouldn't have. It was just the entire day, how could it get more bizarre? You saw me lighting yet another cigarette dressed up as a flapper girl. 

Why did you call me? You asked, and I realized I truly had no problem with being up front.

I didn't have anyone else to call, I knew you would open the door and I know your number by heart. I had been in this situation more than once, having no where to sleep is like falling off the bike or being in a car accident. Random thoughts travel across your mind (wait... my mind). 

When I didn't find my keys, I remembered the winter when I stayed in a hotel and the time I got off the first cab I took in Paris. Cab over hotel; 50-50 chances. I called you because I was sober, because I needed someone to talk about my day, someone that would stimulate my mind without making me feel like shit, I needed someone who would just ask me if everything is ok. You were the closest one to whom I could share my not-so-important undergrad student drama who has no "worries" no plans, no boyfriend, and oh yes "has not experienced real life" even after the fight even after all the pain... no... I am hiding the entire truth I just ran out of battery so I couldn't wake up my sister get in my apartment and make the usual international call... to be fair I missed our breakfasts too, but I did not fully miss you. 

You smiled at me and I guess you understood at that moment why my decisions had been like that over the past days, months... has it been a year? I hugged you as I would hug my best friend. "I am bipolar" I said as I started crying. I wish I had loved you, I am sorry if I ever hurt you, I shouldn't have kept you waiting, I just didn't know what to do with myself.

You started cooking our last breakfast date at 4am. We talked... we just talked... It is never going to be the same if you go to Paris, tu sais? I am not expecting it to be, that is why it is only for some months. Is this about the pub night? No, I wish it was just that its about everything... she said once that after a certain time of feeling constant frustration people loose themselves. I don't want to get into that point and I am two centimetres away from passing it. I am becoming depressive when I don't have anything to be depressed about... at least not that seriously yet. I am attached to Garcia Marquez' tree and I want to break those chains to develop wings and start flying away from this non-sense... I miss believing that those chains could be broken, my wings are being inhibited before they even start growing. 

The water did not turn into wine for our breakfast and I did not multiply the bread. You should sleep, you said. Awkward moment, seeing your room again felt like a new encounter to a new galaxy where I had not been. 50-50 chance tails you stay on my bed. I got the sofa, you said something about a bird. My mind was to busy thinking about self-control and the chains. You started talking about the myth of a bird sitting in the couch. "I don't get it", of course I wouldn't my body was melting in your bed. We finished our last breakfast; before my old spirit made room for the book ready to be closed. You are like la Malinche, Josephine. "No I am not, at least she did love Cortez" 

With that the door went into flames, one less chain remains, I am only 11 months away...

Merci.