Have you noticed how much we count stuff in our lives? We count money, relationships, days over due, minutes until midnight, weeks late, miles over the speed limit, points missing from the score, seconds left in the microwave... debt... numbers rule our lives, even when we try to avoid them. Damn, my math teacher was always right.
And so was my mother, but that's another story.
Today a sort of countdown has begun; one that should had started, and did indeed, back in December, but that had been stalled and stopped a number of times, and for the most ridiculous reasons you could ever think of.
It's a wait that might change my future, as I've said before; It's a wait that will keep me nervous, will keep me guessing, will keep me wondering, and will make me question every part of what I've been in my concious life.
You see, little details, little decisions, little hesitations... little seconds, might represent the difference between me staying stuck and the shot at having a future. Yes, I'm dramatic, but then again, I live in the land of Telenovelas, where Chávez tunes into my life as he pleases and makes a living hell out of it.
Other days, I count as well for different reasons. I count them as they pass and they never come back, and that's the sad part of living in this country. Days that will never be granted to us once again, days lost in hatred, in violence, in mistakes; one after another.
Today a sort of countdown has begun; one that should had started, and did indeed, back in December, but that had been stalled and stopped a number of times, and for the most ridiculous reasons you could ever think of.
It's a wait that might change my future, as I've said before; It's a wait that will keep me nervous, will keep me guessing, will keep me wondering, and will make me question every part of what I've been in my concious life.
You see, little details, little decisions, little hesitations... little seconds, might represent the difference between me staying stuck and the shot at having a future. Yes, I'm dramatic, but then again, I live in the land of Telenovelas, where Chávez tunes into my life as he pleases and makes a living hell out of it.
Other days, I count as well for different reasons. I count them as they pass and they never come back, and that's the sad part of living in this country. Days that will never be granted to us once again, days lost in hatred, in violence, in mistakes; one after another.
And don't get me wrong, I'm all up for mistakes; you learn from them, because they bring the best and worst of you, they show you who you are, and if you're at least worth the while, you could become what you want, what you need. The problem is that in this endless thread of mistakes, it appears nothing has been learned, nothing has been won, nothing more than division and pain.
This countdown means to me the escape to this thread, and I blind my mind from negativity, cause in the past, all efforts failed, and this might as well be my last chance. Yes, again, I'm dramatic. My back hurts, I'm tired and I have brown circles under my eyes.
This blog is not exactly a work of art, is just a way to vent.
Either way, and I feel like I'm writing just like I speak, have you wondered how many countdowns do you have in your life? I've lived in a constant countdown and at 27, I'm tired. I want to stop counting down and start counting up.
Only a few people will understand, but I want to count the number of times I can walk the entire Venice broadwalk in a day, I want to count how many grunions I see at night, how many waves it takes me to learn to ride one, I want to count the one candle on my friend's baby b-day cake next year, the number of times I can hug my virtual friends for real this time, I want to count kisses, smiles, goals... the only thing that I want to count down is the size of my pants.
This countdown means to me the escape to this thread, and I blind my mind from negativity, cause in the past, all efforts failed, and this might as well be my last chance. Yes, again, I'm dramatic. My back hurts, I'm tired and I have brown circles under my eyes.
This blog is not exactly a work of art, is just a way to vent.
Either way, and I feel like I'm writing just like I speak, have you wondered how many countdowns do you have in your life? I've lived in a constant countdown and at 27, I'm tired. I want to stop counting down and start counting up.
Only a few people will understand, but I want to count the number of times I can walk the entire Venice broadwalk in a day, I want to count how many grunions I see at night, how many waves it takes me to learn to ride one, I want to count the one candle on my friend's baby b-day cake next year, the number of times I can hug my virtual friends for real this time, I want to count kisses, smiles, goals... the only thing that I want to count down is the size of my pants.
These 40 something days will be the end of me, but also the start... do you believe in fairness, in wishes, in prayers? Do you believe in crossed fingers? Throw all of that for me... I'll keep you posted.
