As long as we care

During the past two weeks or so I've been reading these two novels by Fitzgerald for a literature exam, where I'm supposed to analyze the themes of the books. Well, don't know about how I'll get through the exam, but here's a theme analysis for you.

There's a lot of hate in the world, a lot of anger and bitterness. However, there's a force even worse than those; indifference. Towards your spouse, your family, the youngster who keeps getting in trouble all the time, the refugees who have witnessed more horrors than anyone ever should. And we close our eyes, act as if there was nothing in the space that is actually occupied by another human being, and walk away. 

It's unfair, it's cruel but above all it is sad to see, or even read, when someone who used to look at the other with the sparks of their soul now stares blankly ahead, barely acknowledging. How someone can turn from a lover to a stranger, a ghost while still alive. The most painful hit comes in the form of not caring, and when that flame dies out, something is lost for good.

And I admit, I get it on some level. I remember wishing I could just not care, when something has been hurtful or unpleasant to deal with. But in the end I don't want to, since it would be losing something. Whether the indifference is towards yourself or others, the consequence is the still same.

As long as we feel something, there's still hope. The scary thing is that this is a phenomenon present in our daily lives and it's way too easy to look to the other direction. Schools suffer from it when bullying takes the form of intentional indifference, so do work places and even the world of politics, in my opinion. As for schools, it is one lethal disease that can haunt you behind every corner. Maybe coming from a home where caring isn't a priority, to a school where the teacher sees you just as a trouble during a class instead of a human being, where other kids treat you like crap, the pressure from it all is just too much for anyone to handle. Wanna make an attempt at solving the issue of social exclusion? Start caring, start looking, start listening. 

That's where the book ended, not giving me any reassurance that it might not be the end of it after all. But I still believe, since I believe in the world, that we might be able to pick ourselves or each other up from the rock bottom, and start to care again. If we couldn't, this would be a pretty damned dark place, wouldn't it?

¿Ayer, hoy o mañana?

Últimamente he pensado mucho en el pasado y en cómo las situaciones anteriores de mi vida en realidad han influido mi presente. Las decisiones, las personas y mi concepción de mí misma, los libros que he leído, los cuentos que les he contado a mis amigos. Y cómo, a pesar de haber decidido en ese momento que ya basta, tengo que pasar a la parte siguiente, estos recuerdos vuelven en momentos imprevisibles. Y empiezo a preguntarme si lo que decidí entonces, lo que hasta ayer creía que era correcto, era necesario, bien o algo que realmente quería.

Conversamos sobre este tema con una amiga hoy caminando por las calles oscuras mientras copos de nieve enormes estaban cayendo de las nubes y me aseguró de que toda la gente piensa a veces en estas cosas. El problema es que me molesta que estos pensamientos y recuerdos me distraigan aunque estoy segura de que si pudiera hacerlo otra vez, no cambiaría nada. No repetiría ninguna parte de mi vida, ni las más perfectas ni las peores.

Como me dijo ella, quizás es normal sentir así a veces. Con casi todo, siempre hay una verdad que no se puede negar; había un tiempo cuando eso era todo lo que quería, y todo lo que jamás podría querer. Y cuando estaba en este momento cuando lo tenía todo, ¿qué hice? Me preguntaba si ese fue lo que quería. Empezaba a tener otros sueños y otras cosas que quería, que necesitaría para ser totalmente contenta. ¿Por qué no podemos quedar satisfechos con lo que tenemos, o es una cuestión de no haber sabido qué hay tanto más que somos capaces de conseguir? 

Volviendo al pasado en los recuerdos, hay que recordar que la cabeza no es objetiva; te puede mostrar los recuerdos bonitos, las risas felices y los éxitos, o te puede prohibir todas las partes buenas. Y en este momento aquí y ahora hay que tratar de ver la realidad como es, recordar el pasado con todos los aspectos y pensar si es posible ganar algo con estos pensamientos en el futuro. Y muchas, muchas veces he llegado a la conclusión que no vale la pena pasar demasiado tiempo en el pasado, ni siquiera en los momentos perfectos. Las personas cambian, y yo he cambiado, y eso es la razón porque lo que quería entonces ya no me va bien.

Me calma un poco que hay ciertos planes, sueños y ideologías que son permanentes, que sé con certeza que no van a desaparecer. Sí pueden cambiar, pero los cambios complementarán lo que ya he construido. Sé que parece muy inocente decir que no van a cambiar mis ideologías con mis 21 años de experiencia de la vida, pero creo que mi edad es exactamente lo que me permite decir así.

When the nights get a little bit colder

I wrote something.

I wrote something, and I read it, and I flinched.

How could I have written something filled with so much doubt, so much hatred and so much suspicion towards people?

I am not that dark. I  do go there, but I live in the light, still.

 I wrote something, and I erased it.

A bit embarrassed, a bit scared. If I don't believe in people, and tomorrow you don't believe in people, and next week she doesn't, soon there will be nobody left.

'Cause all that really matters, is that we hold on. 

Hold onto each other.

Hold on

Sometimes I wish I could take a peek into the future and see how things turned out. If the decision I made a year ago proved to be the right one, if the same people are still in my life and whether there is someone totally new. It would be reassuring, somehow, to know that I'll reach something. Not so pleasant if it turned out I hadn't, but still. 

Then I think that it would take the excitement out of it, of the moment of here and now, and I'd lose the element of not knowing what's going to happen. After all, not having a clue is what makes it so magical, but what if the magic just fades away and it's dull all along? Would I look back on right now and do something differently, would I see my life as a series of accomplishments and moments lived to the fullest or a stream of situations and actions, the significance of which more vague than it ever was?

I keep wishing I was already there, I can see it in front of my eyes. The whole picture of all the things that have led to it and how I'd feel. Not perfectly happy, 'cause that's a utopia. I would have found out that happiness is a decision, like love is a construction. And still, in spite of it I'd love, I'd laugh and I'd smile because I chose to and it wouldn't be all the time, but it would be enough. 

Then I come back to right now, and realize that even though I keep myself busy, I feel like drowning under expectations set mostly by myself and responsibilities taken on mostly by myself, I shake my head and let out a little laugh. Silly girl, you are already there, and even though the dream is still there too, like the most perfect glittery sticker of all of those that I used to collect, I can lift my eyes up to the reality. And say that I already know that happiness is not a permanent state, not a goal or a reward; it's in feeling and living and laughing and in the eyes of the other people. And I fall in love with being alive, since even though it's dark, cold and raining, I am here. I am here, I am me, and it's magical now. And it will keep being magical, not all the time, not every day, but it will, if I believe so.

Who knows when the moment of "being there" comes, who knows if it'll ever come. I can only think of every day as my "there" and look back on the things that brought me there. And so have a few more reasons each day, a tiny bit of more experience, a little more understanding and a lot more to find out.

Refreshing for the spirit

A brief change of scenery can be surprisingly good for you. It's been a crazy week, but a memorable one also. Celebrating mom's birthday on Monday will continue today with a surprise cottage-weekend with the entire family, which is why I've spent the day in the kitchen basically. It was a tiny bit more challenging than usually, as I am really tired from the student cruise we were at from Wednesday to yesterday. Ships are funny places, I gotta say. But what happens on the ship, stays on the ship... However, we had a blast, and now despite the coma I feel kind of reborn. Somehow I needed that, now I can concentrate again on finishing the studies for this year.

It's unbelievable how fast this fall has gone. It feels like it was just a while ago that the summer ended, and now we're almost halfway through the academic year. And, it's Christmas soon, can't wait!

Again and again

I wonder whether one of these times it'll finally sink in. I keep having the same realization over and over, just to notice that the previous one took me nowhere. The idea is so right every time, how do I keep still messing it up?

I need to change the concept of selfishness in my head. Now, I almost feel like it's pretty much the worst thing I could do, when in reality I should have a lot more of it to be normal. I matter, what I think and feel should matter in the decisions and promises I make, the actions I take to move forward in life. I should feel my own emotions before anyone else's and I should take my own chances instead of holding myself back to give the space to someone else.

I keep waking up to the thought of me, someone who doesn't really speak up. I have always relied on a figurative partner in crime, a confident, a second opinion, that I've let become the first voice that matters. I have no idea how to let go of such a concept, how do I loose the guilt that keeps asking for other people's opinion and punches mine to the ground before even I know what she was going to say?

The surface says I have it all organized, hey, I'm a camp leader and a teacher student and all that. And for many parts I do, have it together and organized in perfect order. But sometimes, which nowadays isn't that rarely, I accidentally sigh and all the flower petals I just arranged nicely fly away.