viernes, 29 de junio de 2007

That light beam

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That light beam that infiltrated and saved my life.
That beam that mysteriously appeared and took me out of the darkness.
That light beam that didn’t mean to filter, that wasn’t called by anybody;
But was so happily welcome.
That light beam that should have never been there,
But anyway has been.
The one which survived, which could, which went by, which went over
That light beam that each day is with us, takes us, raises us
The one which helps us, brings you, takes you back to my thoughts.
It guides me, it holds me up, tells me where to go.
That light beam that once made noticeable and saved so many lives.
That smallness that brought infinity, eternity, salvation.
That light beam that makes so many people happy.
It appeases innumerable throats, innumerable stomachs.
It draws smiles in how many faces.
It supports how many people, it raises, it guides.
It stretches its hand and offers some help.
From far away it calls you and takes you, but you don’t see it
You can’t say thanks, you don’t understand how or why.
That light beam that infiltrated and shouted you up for not speaking nonsense
That light beam that mysteriously appeared and took you out of the darkness
The one that holds your feet in the ground, the same one that holds mine
The one that innumerable times helped and saved.
That light beam that infiltrated in more than one life, and saved them.

Are you needing that light beam?






With this entry I say goodbye for 11 days, 11 nights. I’ll be writing, surely. But not posting. When I’m back, then prepare yourselves to read!! =P jajaja!
Enjoy!

Vale
Original:
Ese rayo de luz

Ese rayo de luz que se infiltró y salvó mi vida.
Ese rayo que misteriosamente apareció y me sacó de la oscuridad.
Ese rayo de luz que se filtró sin querer, sin que nadie lo llame;
pero fue tan bienvenido.
Ese rayo de luz que nunca debió estar ahí,
pero sin embargo estuvo.
El que sobrevivió, el que pudo, el que pasó, el que atravesó.
Ese rayo de luz que día a día nos acompaña, nos lleva, nos levanta.
El que nos ayuda, te trae, te devuelve a mis pensamientos.
Me guía, me sostiene, me dice a dónde ir.
Ese rayo de luz que un día se hizo visible y salvó muchas vidas.
Esa pequeñez, ese diminuto detalle era el que faltaba.
Esa pequeñez que trajo la infinidad, la eternidad, la salvación.
Ese rayo de luz que hace feliz a tanta gente.
Que calma tantas gargantas, tantos estómagos.
Que dibuja sonrisas en cuántas caras.
Que empuja a cuánta gente, que levanta, que guía.
Que te tiende la mano y te ofrece ayuda.
Desde lejos te llama y te lleva, pero no lo ves
No le podes agradecer, no entendés cómo fue ni por qué.
Ese rayo de luz que se infiltró y te calló para que no hables de más
Ese rayo de luz que misteriosamente apareció y te sacó de la oscuridad
El que te mantiene de pie, el mismo que me mantiene de pie a mí
Ese que tanto ayudó, tanto salvó, tanto sabe.
Ese rayo de luz que se infiltró en más de una vida y las salvó.

lunes, 25 de junio de 2007

Trying to reach a star

Here’s a short story I just wrote. When you read it, I would recommend to pay attention and imagine the scene and actions presented, in order to get the whole idea and the feeling I want to express…


Trying to reach a star

Sitting in the wet grass because of the dew, Evie lay silently in the middle of the night. The girl was hypnotized with something up there, showing a strange look in her eyes. Her mind was on it completely and she didn’t really care of the wet grass. She was looking above, admiring the great blue sky full of shining spots. They looked great! And she was fascinated, wondering why she hadn’t noticed them before.


For the first time in her life Evie felt free. Free from duties, free from harm, from fear, from life. Free from routines, clocks, people talking, people walking, arguing, suffering. It was just Evie and the dark sky. Evie and the million stars shining only for her. How can people be watching TV while here’s such a great spectacle? How can people be immersed in loud music having here the greatest silence? How can people walk the streets and never notice this gorgeousness?

Agitation had passed, fear had too. Only life was still there. But it was not her life. It was a new life, a new period, a new beginning. It was her life now, her way, her path, her decisions. No one was taking care of her, no one felt the way she did. Evie was sitting in the dewed grass, but still didn’t care about the cold she was starting to feel. She was exchanging some words with a great landscape, while silence was sitting next to her, and meditation protecting her. Evie’s head, a whole though, a whole new experience, a million thoughts, a million new discoveries.

Paulo, Mary, Jack, Sheila passed by. Her dead mother, her dog, school. Then the sea, some great vacations, an apartment, homework, future. A boy, her cousin, her grandfather, Cinderella’s book, her drawing of Mickey Mouse. Images came and went, flew through the stars; one followed by the other. And then she stopped at one shining dot that caught her attention. Evie saw a known face on it. Was it her mother? Could it be possible? Evie hadn’t seen her for a few months, so the face was a bit different. It had so much more life that the very last time she had seen her..! She was… different. A big and tender smile, the same brown eyes, same friendly look, same wrinkles in her frown. She was not supposed to be on earth anymore, so definitely, she could be up there! Her mother was on that star!

Evie lifted her arm, but got nowhere. How she missed her! How she wished to reach the star, her mother’s star. Her arm went down again, touched the wet grass and she quickly dried it with her pants. Evie could almost hear her mom saying ‘Don’t do that! Your pants will get dirty!’ It was her voice! Definitely. She hadn’t heard that tone for some months… but now it was the same, just the same one. How she missed her... she thought. But life is like that and she was now starting to face it, to understand it, to accept what it presents. Evie missed her mom anyway, and she knew she could reach it… Her face was so alive, so real, so hers.

With tears on her eyes she lifted her arm slowly again. Little by little the slim arm went up, getting nearer… And a frightening loud shout broke completely everything. It was her father’s angry tone:

- Evangeline! What are you doing out there?! The grass is wet, it’s cold! Are you going mad? Why do you lift your arm like that?!

She wasn’t going to answer that she was trying to reach a star. Not even that she was about to reach her mother. Silently, she let the tears roll down her face and fall on her pants. The same pants her mother had mended with so much love.

- Evangeline, come in now!

She didn’t want to come in. She didn’t want nothing and nobody else than her mother.

- Evangeline! I’m telling you to come here, now! Don’t you listen when I talk to you?

- I’m going - stuttered the girl, passing her sweater sleeve through her eyes.

- Hurry up! Now!

She only wanted to cry. To go back to the dewed grass, to the silence, to the sky, to peace, to her mother. “They’re adults, they just don’t understand anything”, she affirmed to herself, “only my mom understands me.” And how she missed her…



Vale

I will reach the sky

And I will deal with it. I will deal to reach the sky, to reach the top. And I know I will succeed. Day by day I grow up and my desire grows stronger. I concentrate on my objective and I know I’ll make it. This is how I’m going to make it, I know I will succeed. With strength from the heart and true desire, there are no impossible tasks. I stretch my branches, each one is part of me and each one of them will help me reach it. With every single millimetre I feel nearer. How will it be? How will it taste? How will it smell? How will it feel? I know I will have an answer for each of my questions soon. I know I will reach it.

I’m almost reaching it...

Come on! A little bit more and I’ll touch you with my branches. You’ll caress me softly and tell me “Well done”. I know it.

Sky, wait for me, I’ll be soon up there with you.


Vale Becker

Maybe it’s just my destiny

And maybe it’s just my destiny
To be alone, to feel lonely
To be red, to be on a cold floor
You’re up there, still on our tree
I can see you all, I can hear you laughing
I’m down here, feeling solitude
Feeling cold, feeling human beings
Feeling a foot that soon will step on me
Feeling nothing, just nothing.
Just a leave that fell on the wrong place.
…But maybe it’s just my destiny

Vale Becker

sábado, 23 de junio de 2007

Lost



The greatest series I’ve ever watched – and the only one, actually. I did see other ones, one or two episodes, but none caught me as this one did. I didn’t need to watch a couple of episodes, nor a whole one. With only ten minutes of the first episode I became a complete addict!

The series is so great, that I’m sure every single one, who has watched a bit of it, has been involved in this Lostaddiction I feel. It’s really an addiction! From the very first time I saw all these characters I fell in love with each one of them, with what they did, what they thought, what they believed, what they were. They are so very different one to the other, but they are together on that island, aisled from everything, setted where nobody can find them, and they have to learn how to survive together.

Now that I’ve finished watching season 3 (thank you so much Alina!) and I know that I have to wait until February 2008, I felt like writing (once more) about Lost. I don’t want to talk much about the content of the series and this third season because I can spoil it to someone reading, but I only gotta say that I’m deceived and sad because of one event, but happy for other! A couple of tears rolled down my face in that last episode, and more doubts appeared.

It is too much time until February!! I think I will die of abstinence, intrigue, nerves… There are so many questions to be answered, so many doubts to be cleared, so many episodes still to see… But I’ll have to adjust with just reading more info at Lostpedia, doing my own predictions and being part of e-meetings.
I won’t have nothing to feel excited about, I won’t go to bed late on Mondays, I won’t discuss at lunch time with my dad and brother about that theme. No more Lost for a long time… How sad!!

I completely recommend Lost. It is really catching, has a lot to think about, to analyze, characters to love, to hate. What’s really interesting is how a character that is supposed to be “a good one” turns to be the other way, or vice versa. One of the greatest mess you find on the series is that confusion, you don’t know who to really trust in.

It’s just great! Landscapes are incredible!!

I want to go on a flight in Oceanic and fall down in that island!!
My favourites:
---------------Kate Austen-------------------------------------John Locke-------------------
--------------------Charlie Pace------------------------
Yours?
Great phrases from Lost:
"You all everybody"
"Don't ever tell me what I can't do"
"Don't mistake chance with fate"
"Everything is connected"
"What we really need to survive is someone who really loves us"
"See you in another life"
"Live together, die alone"
"Having hope is never stupid if you believe things happen"
"Whatever you think I am, I'm not"

Vale
[Lostaddict]

jueves, 21 de junio de 2007

What makes you happy?

There is something that happens to me very often, and today, paying attention to the lyrics of a song I know from a lot of time ago, I found that concept! Did you ever feel that you were doing something you shouldn’t because you had plenty of more important things to do? Did you ever feel you were doing nonsense things, but you really enjoyed doing them? Do you consider you like doing things you would never tell the world you do? That’s something that happens to almost every one of us, I think. Why should we feel sad or bad about that if it is something that makes us happy? The song is “If it makes you happy”, from Sheryl Crow, and the chorus says like this:

“If it makes you happy

It can't be that bad

If it makes you happy

Then why the hell are you so sad?”

It is so true! If it makes you happy, feel proud that you like that. It makes you happy, so don’t feel bad! Others will see you strangely or might think whatever about you… but the problem is that they haven’t found what you’ve found on that activity. People might think what you do is nonsense, you might thing that of the others’ activities. And so?

If I have to say when I feel this… I will try to make like a different song, with the same chorus (don’t pay attention to the rhythm in case you know it…)


If I gotta confess,
I don’t like going out when it’s cold
I prefer my warm bed, my old books,
Instead of that smoky and packed disco.

I don’t want to sit on a bar full of people
Why don’t we go to someone’s house?
Walking makes me happy
I enjoy watching the same landscape every day.

I must admit I sometimes listen to Nick Carter
I sometimes watch Cartoon Network
Tom and Jerry are my favourites!

I can spend hours behind a bird, a flower
I can take thousands of pictures
And then… they die archived in my PC
And only some of them are good.

I have to study, yes.
But the DVD of Lost is calling me
I watch an episode, and then
I don’t sleep because I didn’t study.

Sometimes I wake up at 4 a.m.
Through my mind passes a great project
I turn the light on, draw, write
And do art till 7.

I have to confess that I
Can live with the same trousers everyday
I don’t like going to the hairdressers
And playing tennis makes me happy

“If it makes me happy
It can't be that bad
If it makes me happy
Then why the hell am I so sad?”


There are activities that makes one happy, so one should continue doing them, not leaving that sense die because of what people might say. To survive we need things that make us happy, little things to fulfil our lives, to make us grow, to differ us from others. If I have important activities to do, I consider also important having a break and doing what I really like, because if I don’t then my mind is a mess and I don’t manage to do what I have to. But what we need to know is when to do each one, and to manage time in order to do all we have and want to.


(Playing with letter-shaped vermicelli is funny too and it is something I enjoy..!)

miércoles, 20 de junio de 2007

The different one

I’m alive, I’m the same as every leaf but I still don’t feel like that. I am only one more. One drop in the sea, one person in the world, one leaf in the tree. I am only… but I am. I’m alive, I sway with the breeze, I feel the cold, I feel hot when the sun goes up, I feel scared, happy, different. I feel different. Different from every other, different from the rest. I live with all of them but I feel apart. They’re just like that and I am like them only to be part of the population, but I don’t feel it inside. They pretend, so do I; I have to, in order to survive. They’re all the same and I am different. Over so many known but strange shapes, I look around and I don’t find easily who’s just like me. Maybe my sight is getting worse because of solitude, frustration and hidden feelings; maybe I am not really looking for it. But suddenly from far ahead I found you there. Life joined us both, somewhere, somehow, we met. You’ve been there for so many sunsets, so many birds passing by, so many storms we’ve faced, and we never said a word. Now that life joined us I understand how things really are, we are different. They are like that, we are not. We have lived the same life, the same solitude, the same fears, and never imagined someone lived it too. Now that we are together we will face this world of strangers and we will continue being different. But now we both know we’re not alone, we’re not ‘the only one’. Between so many shapeless shapes I couldn’t find even myself. But now I have you near and we suffer the same, we enjoy the same; we’re both just as different from everybody else.

domingo, 17 de junio de 2007

The Little Prince

The Little Prince… what a great book! One of my favourites, if it is not the favourite. I have no words to describe that great book full of innocence, childhood, love, teachings, emotion and tenderness. I’ve read it four times and I’ve cried in three of them. But every single time I read even one line of that magnificent book, I feel touched, my mood change, I start thinking on something else.

There is one chapter that in my opinion, is the best, most important and most touching. It is the one that has the greatest quote of the whole book and gives a kind of general idea of all the themes on the book. The chapter is number XXI and I’ve pasted it down here (a bit long, but worth it!):
(To take a look to the whole book click here)




It was then that the fox appeared.
"Good morning," said the fox.
"Good morning," the little prince responded politely, although when he turned around he saw nothing.
"I am right here," the voice said, "under the apple tree."
"Who are you?" asked the little prince, and added, "You are very pretty to look at."
"I am a fox," the fox said.
"Come and play with me," proposed the little prince. "I am so unhappy."
"I cannot play with you," the fox said. "I am not tamed."
"Ah! Please excuse me," said the little prince.
But, after some thought, he added:
"What does that mean--'tame'?"
"You do not live here," said the fox. "What is it that you are looking for?"
"I am looking for men," said the little prince. "What does that mean--'tame'?"
"Men," said the fox. "They have guns, and they hunt. It is very disturbing. They also raise chickens. These are their only interests. Are you looking for chickens?"
"No," said the little prince. "I am looking for friends. What does that mean--'tame'?"
"It is an act too often neglected," said the fox. It means to establish ties."
"'To establish ties'?"
"Just that," said the fox. "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world . . ."
"I am beginning to understand," said the little prince. "There is a flower . . . I think that she has tamed me . . ."
"It is possible," said the fox. "On the Earth one sees all sorts of things."
"Oh, but this is not on the Earth!" said the little prince.
The fox seemed perplexed, and very curious.
"On another planet?"
"Yes."
"Are there hunters on that planet?"
"No."
"Ah, that is interesting! Are there chickens?"
"No."
"Nothing is perfect," sighed the fox.
But he came back to his idea.
"My life is very monotonous," the fox said. "I hunt chickens; men hunt me. All the chickens are just alike, and all the men are just alike. And, in consequence, I am a little bored. But if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life. I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. And then look: you see the grain-fields down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the color of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat . . ."
The fox gazed at the little prince, for a long time.
"Please--tame me!" he said.
"I want to, very much," the little prince replied. "But I have not much time. I have friends to discover, and a great many things to understand."
"One only understands the things that one tames," said the fox. "Men have no more time to understand anything. They buy things all ready made at the shops. But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship, and so men have no friends any more. If you want a friend, tame me . . ."
"What must I do, to tame you?" asked the little prince.
"You must be very patient," replied the fox. "First you will sit down at a little distance from me--like that--in the grass. I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings. But you will sit a little closer to me, every day . . ."
The next day the little prince came back.
"It would have been better to come back at the same hour," said the fox. "If, for example, you come at four o'clock in the afternoon, then at three o'clock I shall begin to be happy. I shall feel happier and happier as the hour advances. At four o'clock, I shall already be worrying and jumping about. I shall show you how happy I am! But if you come at just any time, I shall never know at what hour my heart is to be ready to greet you . . . One must observe the proper rites . . ."
"What is a rite?" asked the little prince.
"Those also are actions too often neglected," said the fox. "They are what make one day different from other days, one hour from other hours. There is a rite, for example, among my hunters. Every Thursday they dance with the village girls. So Thursday is a wonderful day for me! I can take a walk as far as the vineyards. But if the hunters danced at just any time, every day would be like every other day, and I should never have any vacation at all."
So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near--
"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."
"It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you . . ."
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince.
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"Then it has done you no good at all!"
"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields." And then he added:
"Go and look again at the roses. You will understand now that yours is unique in all the world. Then come back to say goodbye to me, and I will make you a present of a secret."
The little prince went away, to look again at the roses.
"You are not at all like my rose," he said. "As yet you are nothing. No one has tamed you, and you have tamed no one. You are like my fox when I first knew him. He was only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But I have made him my friend, and now he is unique in all the world."
And the roses were very much embarassed.
"You are beautiful, but you are empty," he went on. "One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you--the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or ever sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose.
And he went back to meet the fox.
"Goodbye," he said.
"Goodbye," said the fox. "And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."
"What is essential is invisible to the eye," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.
"It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important."
"It is the time I have wasted for my rose--" said the little prince, so that he would be sure to remember.
"Men have forgotten this truth," said the fox. "But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose . . ."
"I am responsible for my rose," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.
The fox was a stranger for the Little Prince, was indifferent for him (and vice versa) but once he tamed it, it became his friend, someone he could trust in. The fox was now different from all the other foxes in the world. And the same happened with his rose, but he didn’t understand it until the fox explained it to him. The fox, his fox. It was one fox in the world, the only one that he cared about. In the book we can see how the Little Prince also tames the man telling the story, the one that had a problem with his plane and was repairing it in the middle of the desert. At the beginning this small and blonde figure was just a boy (the only strange part was that he was in the middle of the desert), one more in the world. He even bothered the man, because he was fixing the plane and didn’t want the boy to interrupt him. Time went by and they talked (with the difficulties that the Little Prince created), they spent time together, the man drew a lamb for the boy, they drunk water together, and they tamed each other. The Little Prince became a sort of treasure found in the middle of the desert for the man on the plane, and he helped him to make that stay in the middle of the sand worth it.

In our lives we ‘tame’ many people. And people also ‘tame’ us… I find myself completely identified with the fox and the Little Prince. At the beginning everybody is indifferent for us, but when we ‘tame’ someone things completely change. We start thinking on that person, we are expecting their arrival, we remember them when we see something related with them, and so on. It is really great to be ‘tamed’, to have people who really cares of us, and people to care about. To have people who are not just as everybody else, who are indifferent to us. In our lives we ‘tame’ a lot of people and we feel really happy while it lasts. But, as the Little Prince had to say goodbye to the fox, we all say goodbye to each other. Our paths don’t walk together anymore, we have to live different lives and our loved creature is not with us anymore. Only his memory lasts, the good times we spent together.

Jump!

“Are you ready to jump
Get ready to jump
Don't ever look back oh baby
Yes, I'm ready to jump
Just take my hand
Get ready to jump”
» Madonna «


“Might as well jump
Go ahead, jump. Jump
» Van Halen «

“I just wanna jump (jump)
Don’t wanna think about tomorrow (jump)
I just don’t care tonightI just wanna jump (jump)
Don’t wanna think about my sorrow
Let’s go whoaForget your problems
I just wanna jump”
» Simple Plan «


“If you´re gonna jump
then jump far,
fly like a sky diver”
» Natasha Bedingfield «


“(Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!)
(Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!)
And I don't care now
(Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!)
(Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!)
Cause we don't get out
(Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!)
(Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!)
I'll pack my things now

(Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!)
(Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!)
Fuck this shit right now, I
'm checking out
(Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!)
(Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!)
» N.E.R.D. feat. Joel Madden & Benji Madden «


“Jump
Why don't you just jump
Now you're out on your own
Only one way for you to go
So jump
Why don't you just jump
Now you're out of time
And you know what you can do”
» Faders «



Jumping… something I like. Maybe because I like doing almost all physical activities… don’t know. But I enjoy jumping, and it is my favourite area of the Olympic Games; even jumping in height or in length. I like doing both!

Jumping is related also with the fact of trying to get out of this world, to go far away with only one bound. You need effort to do a high hop, to reach a good point and when you get down you feel like something amazing has just happened. You feel excited, you jump. You feel joyous, you jump. You want to reach something high, you jump. Jump. You jump high, try to reach the sky, try to go far away, to leave everything down here, behind. You jump, you feel the wind on your face, you touch the stars with your hands, you see the world from a different point of view.
If you’re gonna jump, jump high, make an effort and lift your legs, go up, very up. Touch the sky, feel you really jump!
Don’t know… I just like jumping. And more in the dunes, where you sink when you get down, you fall softly, and you enjoy your tiny flight.

(Pic: me. I love it!)

Radio Program: Stem Cells Research

The radio program we heard was about this new discovery, mentioning the advantages and disadvantages on it. Stem cells, as we heard, are produced by embryos – they’re destroyed in order to take the stem cells – and can become part of everything on your body. They can replace every type of cell and this is how scientists assure that all diseases can be cured. Biologically, this discovery is wonderful; even paralyzed people will be able to walk again, by replacing the damaged cells in the spinal chord! But there is controversy in the issue: it is not morally or ethically right to kill embryos.

If you analyze the advantages, you get to admit that this is a great discovery and can save many lives and souls, such as Susana’s. She has been paralyzed for 24 years and every morning she has to wait for someone to help her get out of bed. It is surely a horrible feeling, and it is obvious that she wants to be treated. Such as paralysis, there are many important diseases that can be cured: diabetes, Alzheimer, heart diseases, and others. So, for a sick person the discovery of stem cells is a great advance in science, because he or she knows what it feels to be sick, and it’s for sure that wants to be treated.

According to scientists, we should take advantage of this dazzling success and don’t discard it. If we have found the solution to such big problems, if we can save so many lives, why shouldn’t we do it? It is not morally wrong. What they uphold is that it is an ethical and responsible thing to do. If we have the solution so near, we have to go for it.

But killing an embryo is not a moral issue. That’s what Bush says, and is why he banned the federal founds to the laboratory. Beyond those great and remarkable results, embryos shouldn’t be killed. Why killing a person to save another one? There is a killing anyway. It is not moral to do it.

As far as I’m concerned, stem cells are, for sure, an incredible success in science, and that tells us that we are really improving in health treatments. But the point that for this, embryos have to be killed, is really considerable. We can’t just kill them because we are trying to save another person, or even making scientific researches. If you’re going to kill someone in order to save another one, it is nonsense; it is like killing people just to do researches that might lead nowhere. This issue is closely related to the controversy in abort or euthanasia, so I think that it will be as difficult as them to solve it. When human life plays a role in the matter, we have to be careful with the choices we make. So, if you are alive, you have the right to live, why should you kill a life that is just beginning? When you were an embryo, no one used you just to make an experiment, no one killed you. In my opinion, these researches shouldn’t be done with humans until scientists find a way with which embryos wouldn’t be killed. And if they don’t find it, stem cells shouldn’t be used.

Vale Becker

martes, 12 de junio de 2007

The peaceful scenario

Feeling peace inside of me, almost anything could alter me. Peace abounded in my soul, as it did around me. Listening to that wonderful woman singing that soft country style and saying I didn’t know what, but transmitting peace anyway. The smoke thrown to the air by the incense, gave the room the best smell of all. In one corner all my friends were taking care of me through photographs and in the other, peacefully my guitar laid. Outside the rain was falling softly and drop by drop the green leaves stopped crying of thirst. Inside those warm and known-from-end-to-end four walls it was me lying in my bed and the melody of the country music mixing up with the oriental woods’ smell in the air. I didn’t know if it was true what the packet said – “oriental woods are for meditation, study, contemplation, concentration” – but I thought that the only thing missing there was you, sitting next to me and talking until death took us both. No problems, no preoccupations. Peace inside of me, peace surrounding me. The best scenario, but you were missing.

domingo, 10 de junio de 2007

Pearl Harbor, the film

I’ve just finished watching Pearl Harbor and I am shocked… My eyes are still red, my mouth half opened, my heart beats are different from the normal ones.

I am neither fond of films nor of history. I’ve watched the film in order to get another point of view, another idea about the attack and to finish my “Guided Work of History” which is titled “The entrance of United States to the Second World War after the Japanese attack towards Pearl Harbor”. So, that’s why I hadn’t watched the film before, and also because if I have to choose a film, I never choose the ones with so violent and cruel scenes.

The film is really good. Great effects, very catching, shows history while showing this love story… I liked it! But the scenes are very shocking. The whole films shows a violent atmosphere, attacks, bombs, everything is very energetic, a lot of movements, screams, and that kind of desperation signals.

I’ve cried several times, and really cried! I still have the image of the burned people, all black, desperately running to the hospital to get some help. The huge mass of people floating on the sea, being filmed by down the water. It’s horrible to see so many legs moving so quickly… You get mad! Then the great masses of fire, of explosions, people being thrown backwards by the bombs, everything burning… People running, screaming, looking to the sky, mouths opened wide, desperation. Only desperation.

I must say that luckily, I didn’t see many children suffering. If that had happened, it would have been really worse. But there are some images that were shown together that really caught my attention – and children are involved.

When the Japanese planes were arriving to Pearl Harbor, minutes before 8 a.m. on December the 7th, we can see people taking up their habitual activities, and watching the planes approaching. We can see this woman (right) tiding up clothes in her garden and a whole lot of planes just passing above her. The woman gets really scared. What would you do, what would you think if that happened to you? Then we can see three little girls playing, dressed as angels, with wings on their costumes, and they also get surprised by these terrible aeroplanes with red circles on their sides.
Also we can see in another part, some boys playing, and the planes passing just some meters above them. Those images are terrible!! Poor kids! They don’t know what is going on, what is happening, why are those planes there. They might find it interesting, funny to see 300 planes flying so close to them, but they really don’t understand what is going to come. A great contrast is shown between all these people living normally, doing what they should be doing a Sunday at 8 a.m., and the huge attack about to start. Kids were playing out there, a woman was tiding her clothes, some were sleeping, others working, and seconds later they were all dead! Who could have imagined?

War is something so ugly, so grey, so terrible, so negative. It is the giant weapon, the arm that can kill many people, many things with just one shot. War times are the worst ones, the saddest, the emptiest of life. Why killing that much? Why destroying like that our human race?

In these war times I only see helmets, missiles, blood, tanks and death, a lot of death, sadness and desperation. Innocent people running for their lives, innocent people screaming and suffering. It is not physical pain which really aches, it is more than that. It is the soul pain. The bullet that killed a man, the same bullet that destroyed a family, the same bullet that destroyed a soul; a soul and a lot more. The same damn bullet that takes our loved people, the one that makes us cry and scream deaths. The one which takes so many good people, so many people we love, we need, we’ll miss, and are innocents.


Times of war, outrageous times, black times. Fields with motionless bodies, the earth dyed in red and homes flooding with tears. Even though, there is a scream that nobody listens, such a loud scream that reaches the whole world, but nobody helps. The scream of mothers who loose sons, of girls who loose boyfriends, brothers and friends. The scream provoked by this enormously killing.

Innocents die, innocents suffer, innocents scream. And nobody helps, nobody stops all this. Nobody sets a “stop” to so many deaths. Little by little we must start and try to change the world.

No more blood, no more deaths, stop screams, stop weeping. We want green grass, not red land. We need love. Stop war, we want peace.

Slowly, my eyes went normal again, I breathe, and my heart beats normally. It has been a very rough, hard, violent and totally reflexive film. Now I’ll go to sleep and those horrible images will still be present in my head. I’m sure that I’ll dream about it, as it always happens.

Vale

sábado, 9 de junio de 2007

Shapes in the clouds

After a whole hour, I was still looking through the car’s window, staring at the clouds up in the sky. A dinosaur here, talking with a chicken there. Farther away there was a dragon breathing fire and next to it a humble man. When I tried to find the dinosaur again, it was gone… Now it had a crocodile’s shape. Then something was calling me, up there, yes, that was. A strange face was calling me, and cruelty showed up on it, though it had a weak shining eye. The sky was mine, the clouds, their shapes and that single star.

With my hands I moved the clouds, some felt like cotton, others like scum. I moved them from one side to the other, I made a hole in here, a line there, and modified all the funny figures. I talked with all the shapes, made great friends, and then a new story begun. New characters and new conversations appeared. Funny and interesting activity.

Suddenly a yellow phenomenon unknown to that world, interposed. Strange drawings, they were not like my clouds’. A parrot was painted on it, but it wasn’t my friend. Windows, glasses, people. It woke me up from my awaken dream. When its eternal length had passed, I tried to go back to my world up there in the sky, but it was no longer there. Everything was dark, night almost dominated the route and I couldn’t find my friends. The crocodile was not there, neither the humble man. I wanted to see one of them, even the dragon or the horrible cruel face. It made impossible for me to distinguish again all those creatures. The only solution was to imagine them. The bus disrupted my dream and a second later, night had fallen down. Damn bus that stole my sky.

Vale Becker

Hard week

The week that is ending now has been a hard one. School tasks, news of the term tests, the act of the promise of the flag, “Club Colegial”, my section: sports, and many other topics have almost killed me! It has been a really hard week, full of activities, little sleep, tiredness and bad mood. I haven’t had a single time to relax myself in the whole week. I still have hanging a phone call to my dentist to tell her that I’ve taken out one of the wires of my brackets as it was pricking me, harming my mouth, and I could stand it one single day more! I haven’t had time to speak with a friend, and some elemental activities went down through my hands. I decided to go to the “Convivencia” yesterday to relax, to stop thinking in school although I had a great number of tasks to do… I went to it, and it was great! We were few, so that made it more interesting, less people bothering, and almost everybody interested in what Father Benzi was saying. It helped me a lot. Then I went to see some friends playing in two different bands, in Santa Rosa School, and I ended up really tired. My whole body was aching, but I clarified my mind, thought on other issues, spent some time with friends I hadn’t seen for some time, and now I feel I am alive again. I hadn’t had the time to write. But I even tried (I tried twice) and words didn’t manage to get out of my mind. They were inside of me but the mess of everything I had in my mind didn’t let them get out of me.
That’s why I haven’t written the whole week, and I didn’t have anything written before, ready to be posted. So here I am back, living again. But I’m afraid that this life will end up tomorrow as I start with school again and start sitting for two tests per day for two weeks from now.

Vale

Interview

I’m famous!! Not only me, Vale Marún and Charlie too! Jajaja!!
Last Wednesday, after Luciana Poliche took a look into my blog, I was made an interview with Valemé! It is published in QuorumTuc and you can read it clicking here.

It was a good and exciting experience! Great!!

Vale

sábado, 2 de junio de 2007

Bringing back old memories from childhood

Silently he walked. Noisy was the room in which he was. All the sound didn’t belong to him as he was deeply absorbed in his own mind. The boy looked at the window, the big black window that brought him so many funny memories. He thought of the time when he escaped through it with his cousin, the time when they threw a small balloon full of water to a dog walking over the street… so many memories of the happy times with the family, at his grandmother’s house.

He is now sixteen years old and goes from time to time to visit his grandma. Every time he enters to that house he smells again the old furniture, his granny’s perfume. He sees the big plane made by his own father and remembers the times when he entered in panic each time he saw it. He opens the same refrigerator’s door, and the crayon mark made by him is still visible in the kitchen’s wall. There’s a paper on the wall with the drawing of a lion made by a seven year-old boy. Then he remembers the time when he drew it.

He visits his grandmother, but he never goes to the backyard where all the family used to have those succulent lunches. The day when he silently walked and the room was noisy because of all his family going in to the house, he went firmly to the backyard to have a great surprise. The huge gallery was half of what he remembered, the long table in which six years ago like fifty people would sit down, that day no more than fifteen people would fit. Everything was smaller! He could even reach the tall shelf in which his mom used to hide his football ball. That shelf had always been hated because when he started bothering with the ball, it was automatically put up there and no chance to reach it was available. Now, with only lifting his hand he could take the ball out of the damn shelf. But one kick to the ball would break the window or go next door, when six years ago all he could do is hit the turtle that used to bite his foot.

He had many questions in his mind although he knew the great reason for all of them. How could I have played a football game in this yard with seven cousins? Now we can’t enter more than three in here! How could I have found that dreadful shelf so superior? It is not high now! What had happened to it all? He could believe it, but he knew the answer and he didn’t want to assume it, to believe it.

Six years… was it really such a long time? Had he grown up so much since then? How could he have grown up so much and so fast?! Was it normal to see his childhood reduced to that scale? Huge objects were normal-sized now. Great idols were just common people with a tightened girlish costume. Why couldn’t he still be a six year-old boy? All his childhood was behind now and only good memories were left. Little by little, while memories came back, he was each time more depressed. He wanted to be a child. He wanted to play football, wanted his mom to put the ball on the shelf. He wanted to see fifty unknown people sitting at the table, having lunch together and talking of not understandable subjects, of topics without sense, talking, talking, and never stop talking. He wanted to see fifty unknown people and not just the fifteen relatives they were, talking of things he could now understand but still didn’t care. He didn’t listen to anyone, he didn’t care. He just remembered a great and lost moment of his childhood with every single object of his grandmother’s old house; and wanted them back.

Pic: my brother Germán and me - 1992

Vale Becker