Mi niña interior, esa que conservo intacta, esta triste y yo no puedo escribir.
Los perritos que a lo largo de su vida han adquirido la rabia, abusan de los niños.
Un grupo de hombres y mujeres que han perdido el juicio quieren matarnos porque no pertenecemos a la misma cultura.
La guerra ha tomado lugar en nuestros corazones, alimentando el miedo y el odio.
Los hombres ricos y los acomodados acumulan desgracias en grandes bancos.
¿Acaso ya somos tantos que sólo podemos morir?
Tal y cómo sucedió cuando tenía siete años no puedo creer este estallido cavernícola. Parecía que el mundo occidental podía encontrar la formula que mejoraría la vida de todos, pero esos pobres hombres acumuladores de desgracias y todos los demás, somos demasiado ignorantes y estupidos para mejorar, para comprender lo cambiante del universo y mientras forcejeamos la madre naturaleza se encargará de nosotros.
Mi niña interior sigue creyendo que si aparcamos el ego, todo lo bueno podrá llegar para crear risas y sonrisas y ganarle la partida al miedo.
Pero mi niña interior no es tan ingenua como para ignorar que a veces nos toca defendernos.
Baila cueca, baila bien,
tiqui tiqui tí que te ví,
tiqui, tiqui ta por allá
nos marcamos una cueca
debajo de una ramá..
Since my childhood I had always dreamt about living in Paris, the most romantic city in the world with a magical, vibrant atmosphere… However, there was something unveiled that I was about to learn…
Despite the fact that I was completely focused on settling in Paris, I was afraid of imagining how tough it would become. The first hurdle was convincing my family about my intentions of moving abroad. Although my parents are really open-minded, they were reluctant to accept my proposal. Finally and due to my stubbornness, I convinced them. (Still in the deeper, they rejected the idea but agreed as there was no other choice.)
In spite of disappointing my parents, they helped me with the stages of obtaining a visa at the embassy. That was a tricky one as I had to go thrice or even four times to get it solved. Yet I spent my time and efforts being attended by awful employees, eventually I obtained the Passport to travel to the city of the Lights.
I arrived in Paris on one Monday in July 2013, happy and eager to undertake a new life in my precious city. I rented a cute flat in lively Montmartre neighbourhood where some artists such as Picasso or Toulouse-Lautrec addressed during the productive early years of 20th century. I couldn´t imagine of a better place to live. Nevertheless, my idyllic thinking was broken by my first encounter with an stranger who stole almost all my savings. Despite the fact that I was in a crowded square surrounded by tourists and policemen, nobody could avoid the theft and all the money I had collected for the trip was stolen. I felt completely lost in the middle of the city without any money. Nevertheless, a policeman that was there lent me enough money to phone home and tell my parents that I had made a big mistake leaving Spain!
Fotografía de las pleyades
Prueba de articulo de usuario flores
Articulo con imagenes subidas