the lady of the bugs

I’m eleven years old. My hair is long and straight, but now is all dirty; my cheeks burn, my shoes are uncomfortable to me. I’ll take them off. The sand’s hot. My hair is too long. Mamma! I look around. No one’s coming. The sun is setting. I sit in a shadow spot. I wait. Someone is going to come and look for me. I’m thirsty. And I can’t cry, I’m too thirsty.
The sea is enormous. I can’t embrace it with my eyes. It roars. The sand is hot. The wind I hear. Little flat rocks. Everything’s salty. The palm leaves I hear. The wind is strong. It blasts my face. The sea roars and crushes against big rocks.
There’s a boy. He approaches. He is pale, he doesn’t say a word. We are expecting someone to come and gets us out of here. He is as dirty as me. He is thirsty too, but I tell him not to drink from the sea, because it tastes funny. He grasps a little rock and sits, I sit beside him. “Are they going to take long?” He asks me. I don’t know. We both wish someone would come and gets us out.
But no one comes.
There are little bugs all over us, they form the shape of a lady, but it is getting dark, I can not see very well. If I were older like my sister, I would not be scared, but I am. She has short hair; she cuts it because she says she is not afraid. But I have long hair, I’m still a child and I’m starting to shiver, because the bugs are all over us. The new boy runs screaming towards the sea, to drawn them. I don’t see him any more. The bugs with the shape of a lady march with me. They are all over my long, straight hair.

(Based on a workshop class about The Lord of The Flies, and an unfortunate event.)

babel

What will be the future of languages? Will they survive? I’ve just read a short article about the possible extinction of English….yeah, baby. For all of you, including myself, we better start studying Chinese or something like that. Noooo…don’t worry, we still have like 600 years of changui. And with this word “changui” which origin is unknown to me, I present to you from this line on a little review of “Babel”, the movie. This movie has several characters, each of them speaks different languages. Spanish, English, Japanese, Arabic, French, and a few dialects too. Each of them carry a story in the film, but they all converge in a specific point, in an accident that brings them to be connected in some way or another. Besides the plot itself, the movie presents something that is extremely common in our times: the lack of tolerance and the fact that, with so many languages and so many devices made to communicate easier and faster, we can’t actually communicate with others. As human beings, we are clearly starting, if not continuing, to stop connecting with others. To stop caring about what the other person needs. We are going backwards, I don’t expect that the so called “progress” will mean this lack, this famine of sensibility. Babel. Where we all speak different languages, we learn foreign languages and we still cannot be in real touch with the other. In which point of time have we lost this? Is it that we have become so violent with each other, and, at the same time, so starving of connection, that now, the only way to be in touch with the other is through collision?I can speak asi et adain no me entenderias clearly, I can mix idiomas as I want, ve ulai todavia tu ne comprend pas. La idea es, que aun en this Babel, llegemos a un encounter, un rendez-vouz, or as you wanna call le ze. Don’t miss your sensibility.

words

 do not know anything more powerful than The Word. Once is articulated, it goes directly towards someone’s memory, if not, towards the air itself, right through the universe. Once you have said a word, there is no way back. Immediately after that unwanted Word is pronounced, time becomes your worst enemy, where nothing will be as it used to be. Sometimes is better not to say nothing after that definition has came out of your mouth. Everything, without exception will be registered in the history of the
voices, in the memory of tears, in the spontaneous laughs, in the inevitable misfortunes, and in the reality of the things that have been said. The universe itself recognizes that gathering of sounds: words. The fulfilled wishes, are nothing more than a word’s desire. It is the breath of the genie which fulfills them. Is Man who uses words like nothing. The modern man has learnt nothing, especially the importance of words. Because they carry that connotation which, in several times, hurt, so much, that turns us into sand. The connotation by itself is risky and traitorous. And the word that represents it, awfully efficient.
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