Lately I’ve been walking a lot. I’ve been thinking about a song. Don’t know which song it is. Just a song. I’d like to sing it out loud. Or scream it out loud. Yeah, that sounds more appropriate. Scream it out until my insides explode. It doesn’t matter to me. Just scream until everything explodes and changes on its own. Everything. I don’t want to change. Don’t want to change my stuff, or the way I see people. But everything does. Change is everywhere. Always. And no matter how bad I want some things to stay the same forever, they won’t. Things will never be the way they were a week ago, or 5 months ago. Ten months ago. A year ago. Four days ago. Four days ago my life was completely different from how it is today. Four days ago I didn’t know what was going to happen four days later. Four days ago I was listening to that song, but I didn’t feel like screaming out loud.

If I exploded I wouldn’t have to change. Everything will have changed on its own. That’s why cowards are cowards. They are lazy. It’s easier for them to run. It’s easier to close your eyes in front of change, easier not to see change. It’s easier to think people are disposable and to run away from them so you won’t have to renew yourself. But no. People are not disposable. No matter how many cycles of change and stability. Or even if you have to make a decision between cowardice and change. Even if you have to scrutinize your brain for an answer. People change. However, people cannot be exchanged.

I have six worn-out candles next to me. White wax. They remind me that things change. They did. They will see me change. I bet they can tell the difference and I’m glad they can’t talk. My room is packed with objects that have watched me as I change. Objects that were part of the change. These objects that reach my deepest, most sensitive nerve. I feel insecure. I’m still trying to decipher that song that rings in my head; that beats along with my heart; and that practically torments me. However there are people right now that will always be here with me. Maybe not physically, but still here. So many memories. There are some who have endless books of history written with me. And some of them are priceless. Books which, oddly, I’m willing to read over and over again. They are just pages whose scent I want to keep feeling.

I know I have to change, or at least certain details do. I don’t want my perspective of life to change. I don’t want to start over or run away to some far away country. For the record, I do want to leave Chile sometime. I just don’t feel the urge to run away… yet. However, I want to be me. Anywhere. I want by my side people who enjoy the company of my huge eyelashes and my big palms. People who won’t be troubled by my midnight walks and by my loss of concentration due to those details left unseen by everyone. I hope these people are the same people who I don’t want to lose track of.

I need someone who will walk with me and even help me when I pick up branches just because. I have a whole collection of those. Why? Just because. Because I rescue them from anonymity, from being forgotten. Because even though they are just branches I saw them, used them, changed their lives. They are my remains of a tree. Maybe that’s not even important for them. I mean they were once dressed in colors and part of one big piece of life. But now they are with me… just because. Not a good excuse at all, right?

I hope this is not just one more draft. However, that’s the bright side of typing what you plan to express. You can control yourself. You may choose your words. You can even delete and start over. But that’s not how human relationships work. And, you know? That is so exciting. You have to screw up. You have to make good and bad decisions. You have to adapt. Nevertheless, when you leave people behind is when you just press “Delete”.

At this point of my entry I must thank whoever is reading right now. Bravo. Thank you. Now I will resume my blabber blabber vomit. And it’s just for me and anyone who’s willing to read. If you think that the consumed candles were lighted up for you, this is for you. If you enjoy branches just because, this is for you. Well, I like to wallow in memories. Walk over certain memoirs whose taste is still the same, no matter how many times you’ve walked them. Those moments that make your skin crawl and your heart beat strongly every time they come around. Let’s make this easier for you. Close your eyes and remember a moment in which you felt careless and happy (could be a swift instant like a kiss or something more lasting like a long moonlight walk). Now if during those flashbacks you realize that you’ve been smiling all along, there’s the taste of memories. Hey, now that I think about it, the “memories” topic has nothing to do with what I was talking about. On the other hand, coherence and rationality have never been joining my writing.

There can be many, many cycles. But there are not many folks that will step into your life to make it meaningful and to change everything you ever thought life was. People aren’t replaceable. Don’t let go.


(i just translated what i wrote on "Siguen". forgive my english. i only hope that you understand what i'm trying to say)