Confused

What do you do when all you've already done is not enough? I've fought against my biggest fears although they could seem stupid to you, and I've done it for him. But he always wants more, never stopping to appreciate the baby steps it took me to get there.
Now there is only pressure, misunderstandings and some annoying guilt on my chest that I can't get rid of, even though I think I'm right.
It feels bad.
Is it worth it?

In the right mood for sad songs

James won't give up

While I listened to this beautiful song, I just thought this could be the soundtrack to one of the stories I have in mind and, now, a bit in paper as well. The story of a woman who's turned into mermaid, hence her human life is forgotten by her and her lover discovers himself crossing the world from one point to another just to get her back. This song would obviously be sung by him, and it is so pure and lovely...

It's hard for me to believe that this stuff came out of my mind.

The unchosen one

Do you know all those stories where the main character is a child who's supposed to save the world in any kind of way? This child is the chosen one, he/she is special because of some unique cuality that no one else has, and, despite the tough life our hero surely has faced, the good ones always end up winning thanks to his/her bravery.

Do you know these stories?, because now I am about to tell you about the unchosen one.

They already had her. She was the perfect daughter, not only beautiful but also smart, lovely, cute, kind, polite and funny. They had been looking for her for years and finally they got the daughter everyone would've ever wanted. But then...

... then there was me.

She told me years after that she regretted the moment she tried to abort me, that somehow another child would make her -until then, perfect- life fall apart. She never wanted me, and still she received me full of fear and expectation towards what was coming ahead.

I was born with a broken bone –due to the rush of the labour– and a tiny body. When they looked at me, everything they saw was a terribly vulnerable human being, capable of nothing but crying and weaker than most of the newborn children.

They started to love me because I needed protection.

As I grew up, they found out I had some inner beauty. I was not as smart as my sister, but I was clever. I learned how to be polite and my sense of humor was ridiculously hilarious, and though I'd never be able to compete against my sister, I was worth it. At some point, I stopped needing their protection because fighting hard for my own life had made me stronger. I earned their admiration and that is how they started loving me for who I was.

They were not looking for their third child, but he was accepted as my sister was. I was the only unchosen and unwanted one, the one who had to build her own way into her parents' hearts.

I still think about this sometimes. I contributed to my brother being wanted, but they never wanted me until I was born. It feels weird and it makes me feel like I belong somewhere else apart from my siblings. Whereas they both were meant to be, I had to make something no one -not even Harry Potter- had ever had to do: become the hero of my own story.

Success

El camino del éxito

As you may know, I'm spanish. Por eso es por lo que he decidido escribir esta entrada en mi lengua materna, haciendo honor a la que se utiliza en el vídeo de arriba.

No tengo demasiado que añadir a lo que ha dicho Luzu. El éxito y el dinero suelen confundirse, para triunfar realmente tienes que dedicarle mucho tiempo y esfuerzo a una meta concreta y eso sólo se consigue si dicha meta te apasiona como nada en el mundo.

Se puede enfocar de muchas maneras; aunque él habla sobre todo pensando en el trabajo, yo tengo un problema en cuanto a decidirme, atreverme a hacer lo que sea y dar el salto. Llevo meses queriendo tatuarme y no lo hago, o pensando en ahorrar para una cámara de vídeo buena pero nada. Empiezo muchas historias pero apenas acabo alguna porque me da pereza y es más fácil buscar excusas. Y como esto, muchas otras cosas que me imagino que a vosotros también os pasarán.

Hay una frase de la que me he acordado mucho al escribir esta entrada, y es "Success is the best form of revenge", "el éxito es la mejor forma de vengarse". Me parece totalmente cierta para ser una persona poco vengativa, y aunque el estar aletargada todo el día me lo impida, espero conseguir algún día la fuerza de voluntad que necesito para empezar a buscar alguno de estos sabios momentos de locura.

The snitch

Golden snitch from Harry Potter

At first I was thinking of calling this entry "Painful tags - Part II", but my only desire now is to talk about snitches. The one on Harry's hand is bright, golden, beautiful. It is also elusive, which makes it valuable and desirable, but I did not decide to write about this little ball.

As I said before on a title of another entry, tags are painful. I wanted to focus on one especially rough, "snitch": when a person does something bad and a witness denounces it, the word suddenly pops out and everyone focuses on who was supposedly making things right. "You're a snitch!", the kids would say if one of their partners told the teacher some mischief.

Why does this happen? We admire people who gets to steal using the most complicated tricks, but say a word about that theft and you will immediatly be pointed out as the bad guy, more despicable than the original thief. If this continues, everyone will keep their mouths shut to avoid the feared tag, and this will lead to bad people doing bad things for free.

It shouldn't be this way.

Painful tags

"More than a bunch of letters"

Tags are more usual and common than we think. I believe everyone has tagged someone at least once in his/her life, but it is totally unfair for me. How dare you sum up an entire person to a single word? How dare we? A person is more than just "ugly", or "boring": there is one world for each person that surrounds us, one amazing, endless world full of stuff we would have never even imagined.

As always, there are two dimensions in this tagging thing: the bad and the "good".

The bad one consists on bullying, mostly. Look at those hundreds of movies with teenagers involved and the quarterback calling the main female character fat or ugly, if not worse things. In real life there is a lot of that, and unfortunately anti-bullying campaigns don't seem to progress on their purpose.

And then, there's the "good" one. It is more dangerous, because it's about people saying you are talented or smart. Apparently there is nothing wrong with being praised... apparently. The problem is when people put their expectations on the smart one, because if this person ends up being wrong or messing it up, the others will blame her or feel disappointed. And as these people's success is taken for granted, nobody will appreciate it whenever it happens.

If you had to carry one of these, what would that be: hater's insults or high expectations?

Words remain

"Take me beyond this land undone"

Undone by Meekakitty

The song in the video is called Words Remain and sung by Josh Garrels. It seemed just peaceful to me, hearing only the guitar and his voice through those lyrics is something I could do for hours and hours without getting tired of it.

I must say I consider myself an atheist, though. Someone willing to read what Garrels says in this song will quickly realize it has got a religious message. I do not care, anyway. Instead, I could not agree more with the title, because once said, words can never be taken back or completely forgotten.

The picture I was looking for before finally chosing the one at the begining was one with an angel flying through the skies, the sight of her back and the entire image coloured of black and white. I haven't been able to find it, but in exchange I got that beauty of blonde angel with only one wing and dark feathers all over. I think the colour of the sky is what made me choose it, if not the fact that the view is from the angel's back.

I want to end with a personal message, the one the song brings out from me every time I listen to it. Life is short, some more than others, and each moment can be perfect to be happy and value what we've got and what we're doing righ then because it can also be the last.

So much behind each person...

He is his own bodyguard. Fiercer, stronger, he is not afraid to pick a fight because he can actually run away before things get worse. He feels safe for the first time because, despite the fact that there has never been somebody to defend him, he's got himself now.
This stubborn and sometimes aggressive guy, who looks fearless and seems to be the typical person who does not give a shit, has turned out to be taking care of the kid he was not that long before. He is simply compensating the fear of his childhood, finding ways to never let his past happen again.
He still has to get over it, let the pain go, but the brave, funny, smart, sarcastic, witty and surprising person he has become feels just beautiful and perfect to me.

Caterpillar, cocoon or butterfly?

"A man, if you would call him that, who God himself has turned his back upon!"

The Butterfly Circus

First of all, I want to make clear that I am agnostic. Despite this fact, that sentece caught my attention and left me overwhemed for almost a day.

I think we all have been on Will's spot at least once in our lives. I have experienced the anguish of wondering if I liked the person I was, and doubting the answer being "yes". Furthermore, a voice in my head sometimes just woke up to say "Who the hell are you?", and no one would respond because nobody knew. I found myself on situations where frustration was everything I could feel because I couldn't accept that I had limits. I wanted to be perfect and suffered whenever something proved I was not even close to the name of my blog.

I started to be happy as soon as I stopped. Instead of focusing my ambition on impossible goals, I went through four years of self-consciousness to discover the person I was living with everyday and the limits that person had, and when I was able to make that person me, I smiled honestly for the first time. I did not have to try to be perfect anymore because I already was it, with defects and all.

Imperfectly perfect.

That was the step between the caterpillar and the butterfly, I think. The cocoon were those four tough years, and today I'm a butterfly amongst hundreds of caterpillars unaware of their natures. That's why they see me as a praying mantis. They can't understand me because they haven't got to where I am yet.

Nowadays, I will just stick to three words full of feelings that I had the pleasure to hear during the video: "You are magnificent."

If everyone really knew this is true to almost all of us...

Grazie, Rome!

All roads lead to Rome

I am so lucky to say that I have been to Rome almost six amazing days. I had some high expectations on the city of love, but as soon as I got out of the underground and saw the Colosseo, the reality of the dream I was living hit me with all its strengh. I have been to Rome and I still cannot believe it!

The picture was taken by me on Friday morning, after one day of travelling and visitig the city for the first time and another of getting emotional because of certain sight of the Fontana di Trevi.

Re-reading this, I feel so enormously lucky!

These days have offered me an oportunity that everyone deserves, in my opinion. Changing of environment, getting to know more deeply new people and sightseeing one of the most beautiful cities of the world are not enough words to bring you all what I felt while walking around Italy. The professors used to give us some free hours to wander around and buy souvenirs to family and friends, and I also got to drink a delicious and creamy capuccino and a hot chocolate -cioccolatada calda!

The highlight was the first time I got to see the Fontana, my favourite place of Rome without a single doubt. My vision did not get blurred even though I was about to cry, but I still needed a few minutes of total silence until I finally knew I would not drop any tears.

I am aware of the fact that my publications are not  usually like this one, but more of a reflection. Anyway, I wanted to write about this trip because it has been really special to me. The three coins I threw at the Fontana apparently worked out, or at least two of them, and I will always carry with me the people and the memories that Rome gave me.

Grazie per tutto, Roma! See you soon!

Misery business

"The truth is, I get tired of giving and not getting back."

One of my friends has just said this. I have been quiet all this time, hearing her say things like that most of the time, wondering if she'll ever pay attention to what leaves her mouth.
She has never asked me about my opinion, but there are some thoughts I wanted to share. First of all, I appreciate the honesty. Telling the truth -even the most unpleasant- is not a common value these days. However, I completely disagree with the statement. Giving is, as the word says itself, a gift. I give because I want to, because that person deserves it. I surely don't give a present with expectations, waiting for that person to pay me back.
That is why I never get tired of giving. I do it because it feels good, it feels right, not as an obligation or duty. Those who expect something in exchange are not truly giving but trading, investing on a business.
There is, though, a wise line from a song by Nickelback called "If Today Was Your Last Day". The verse says "each day's a gift and not a given right". There is nothing I can add to that.
I have just one thing left to say. You can take it as an advice, but it is actually what I repeat to myself every day so I can be faithful to who I am and not to who they want me to be: "If you do it, let the reason be because you want to."

Something to get back to

I never had you, I never was yours or called you mine. We never met, your eyes don't know me yet and still I miss you. We never touched or talked, but I'm willing to. I cannot be sure about your existance, as I only saw you once in my dreams. Once was enough for your face to get trapped in my thoughts, though. how did you do it? Why, if you were never planning to come back?

Think outside the box!

"Minds are like parachutes: they are worth nothing while being closed, but once you open them, it can save your life"
I am not even 18 years old and I already feel like a 60 old lady. Lately, I have been noticing how hard it is for people to take off their glasses -the way they usually see everything, the world and their lives- and try a new pair. They will not get rid of their precious ideas after hours talking and making them realize they cannot defend their thinking. They are students of my age, most of them are studying the same subjects as me. Science, from Biology to Chemistry, counting as well Physics, Maths... And still, Phylosophy challenges them.
It is not hard. Some ideas are tougher to understand than others, but once you put yourself into the author's point of view... it is not hard. The difficulty is that my partners are closed into their minds. They have lived with those ideas for 17 years, and proving them wrong would mean they don't really get the point. They are afraid of being wrong, because they do not know how to actually learn. How cannot they doubt about everything if stuff they thought their whole lives where nothing but lies?
It is more comfortable to lie, to believe anything before accepting that you know nothing and be willing to be taught by your mistakes. Society goes to easy. That is why I look like an alien whenever I open my mouth.
Because I dare to think.

Do not let them

I just had a fight with a person I really love. It was not the first one, it won't be the last one, but it hurt like never before.
Last Saturday I argued with a person I really appreciate. I do not love her, but she's not indifferent to me. I want to be okay with her, and it hurt me when I did not get it.
The same day, I had a huge fight with an amazingly important person in my life. The one who made posible for me to be writing this now, because she gave me a laptop and even my hands.
They all have in common that we argued, that they are women and that, somehow, more or less, I love them in different ways. They also hurt me and I hurt them. The problem is that, without trying, without even imagining it, they also made me wonder... 'What if I'm wrong?', 'What if the way I think is not logical, or valid?'.
They made me doubt of myself.
It hurt even more than the fight itself, because fighting for something and realizing afterwards that the pain has been useless, that you had caused troubles and made a mistake, meant that the mistake was you. That you had to change. And it hurt.
Luckily, I could talk to one of the women I argued with and we fixed it. She made me feel better and reminded me that we all share different points of view, and that they collide sometimes. When it happens, we have to look not for the guilty person, but for the wrong view. And I've been trying to open my eyes, but they're already open.

Galatea de las Esferas, by Salvador Dalí

"We don't see things the way they are but the way we are"

I don't know whose phrase it is, but my father told me and since that day I always try to remember it. It's obvious for everyone that we all live in a shared world, but instead of agreeing to everything, we fight and have different opinions. Different points of view.

To the question 'What do you see in the painting?', there are infinite posible answers. I can't even imagine all of them, just a few such as 'A woman', 'Several spheres', 'Both', 'Just a painting by Dalí'... Some people will like it, some will love it, some will simply hate it, there will be an amount of people who won't give a damn about all of this. We do not think the same way, not even close, and that is where I want to get.

We have never seen Dalí's picture. He painted it, he created it and he might have not seen it as well. Galatea de las Esferas has never been really seen by anyone, because its amount of colours, shapes, lights and shadows, lines,... they have been looked at by subjective human beings who can't get rid of their innate subjectivity - forgive the redundancy. It is no one's fault, but the truth is I can see things in that painting that you are most likely not to see, and vice versa. We look at the things under our point of view, our preconceived ideas, our experiences and who we are. We make the things we see similar to us.

This conclusion is not always well received. If we think life is not worth it, what does it say about ourselves? Truth is not ugly, but the fact that we don't want to accept we are is.

One more point before I end this publication: this whole 'point of view' and 'seeing' stuff has reminded me to the phrase 'I see you' from Avatar by James Cameron. It sounded as if the Na'Vi were eliminating their own subjectivity to actually see the other and real person behind it. I like it.

Presentation

I don't really know what am I doing here.

This blog is called "Pure, perfect" because those two words are the ones I wish that could describe myself. Some people think we're all already perfect because we're unique, and some others believe perfection cannot be reached - not by us, at least. My opinion is that everyone can create something perfect. And I understand that something perfect is something pure, without any additions that might toxify its essence.

About my name, it means "Imperfect" in Spanish. And what a better word to describe myself than that?

And I think that's it for now. Feel free to read, ask and love this humble blog.

-Imperfecta