sábado, 2 de octubre de 2010


I went to the opera on Monday, it's been some days since then and I guess I've started this blog, not for anyone else to read it, but to remind myself of the stuff that I'm sure I'll forget someday. I already half remember stuff, in years I don't wanna think what I'll had forgotten. Maybe I'll print all these entries for myself one day to remember the moments of the now then. A guide of how I survived teenage life and how I started to manage life as an adult.

So, the Opera, I don't believe I've told you, but I don't fall in love too often, and falling in love is not the same as being in a relationship with, and having a relationship with someone is not the same as being in a relationship, so first up we should clear all those terms up.

Thirteen is a tricky age, well around thirteen anyway, I don't think the story linking me to the performing arts was exactly covered in the period of time while I was thirteen, but it's most definitely when the event happened.

Before I speak of the event and the action that carried on a reaction that lead me to be seating for two hours last monday listening to Carmina Burana with my family, I should speak of a matter that dwells mostly on quantum mechanics, specially when theorizing about the possibility of backwards time travel. Retrocausality, this is important in physics because according to the laws, an effect cannot happen before it's cause.

This is the part where well, I question my mental sanity and the mental sanity of countless people I've talked to, not that I'm the sanest person, after all I do have a background of some psychiatric illnesses, but I could bet the most important thing in my life that the event happened.

I had a dream, about a girl, she was watching me from a window as I was locked up in a classroom. She looked from afar trying not to be noticed and smiled at me whenever I realized she was looking. One week later, I met this girl, I was doing an exam in a new school and she was peeping down the window watching curiously as I did my exam.

I never told her this, nor I think I've told a lot of people with a couple of notable exceptions, but ever since that day, she has been my dream girl. It sounds cheesy, I know, and the laws of physics say that it cannot possibly happen, but well, I'm not sure that physicists have it right just yet.

I am not a man that usually enjoys the performing arts, I rather watch a movie, or read a book, and if I had to choose from one of the arts to enjoy and be passionate about it would be a draw between writing and drawing. Not that I'm very good at either, but I do it for myself, as a form of getting to know me, as I have realized that not many people know themselves and I find that simply a bit sad.

But her, she was my dream girl. Remember a while back I told you that at age twenty one there had been three relationships that had marked me for good? Well this is number one. The mother of all traumas. And she danced ballet, and she made me feel alive every time she spontaneously appeared at my house, no one else, with the exception of the best year of my life, which I will have to cover later, has done that. And I loved it. She also had an unbelievable luck to always catch me after I had just taken a bath. And she taught me something that I haven't forgotten ever since, even if at times it's been hard. Be yourself, no matter what, just be yourself. I also had my first contact with the obscure subjects while around her and even though we only resided in the same city for a year, during which she had two different boyfriends, she made a deep impact into the making of who I am today.

Opera, Carmina Burana, there was a dancer from the Royal Ballet of London, the show was great, though maybe a bit uncoordinated at times. The lead female dancer made me think of her in her ballet outfit, I think my mind left the theater for what felt like an aeon.

I remembered the time I had to visit her ballet academy, it was well, an experience that would be completely hard to describe, but if you had to, it would be girls forced to mature too early acting like children backstage, like five year olds throwing flour and water balloons and pushing each other into the mud. It was like Neverland except with less pirates.

I developed feelings for other ballet dancers from there, I still think to this day that it's because I have unresolved issues, and I still today, can't really go to a performance act because I know that on my mind nothing will top what I felt when I was thirteen, but the opera on monday made me think back to a simpler time.

A time where the heartless didn't exist and I didn't feel like Cinderella taking my pill at 10 and having to leave crystal shoes behind. A time where Kingdom hearts hadn't showed me that my mental childhood didn't matched up with my body childhood, and a time where a surprise visit from my dream girl still made me feel the strongest butterflies I have ever felt.

Too bad she learned all of this too late. Though I don't believe in coincidences, so I guess I'll have to trust the bigger plan.

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