Creo que he estado a punto de volverme loca pensando pensando pensando en cientos de cosas, como la magia, dios, la religión, la poesía norteamericana, lo que me pasó, el amor, etc.
No llegué a ninguna conclusión.
Salvo que me gustan las personas, la amistad, el amor. Cosas simples y que no tengo que enredarme, no tengo que enredarme y no tengo que hacer cosas que me hagan mal.
Sé que puedo comunicarme con muchas personas que me quieren y eso es lo importante. Cuando alguien te deja, de repente te sentís un monstruo y es como que querés explorar ese límite, es como un regodeo en tu destrucción. Pero... pero... siempre se puede salir, supongo. Y las heridas pueden cerrar, espero.
Recién chateé con Stuart que me dijo 1) que no me asustara por los poemas que hablan de dios de dorothea lasky porque se trata de una religiosidad del después, o algo así, no sé bien qué significa pero me tranquiliza, no es dios, es una religiosidad del después porque la idea de dios me da miedo y me hace pensar en la locura. y 2) me mandó mi poema traducido al inglés. En este momento me hace sentir bien haber escrito poesía aunque cuando la escribí era re incosciente de lo que escribía, bah, uno siempre lo es, en realidad. y ahora lo leo en inglés y parece un poema que yo leería y me gustaría. Ser inseguro es lo peor que hay, y las mujeres lo somos con frecuencia
lo pongo acá, estoy contenta, ya saben que soy sincera en mi blog:

Is it possible to love animals?

How nice, the feelings that were once like birds

in my head and my chest have flown back to me.

People are dressed in nothing but air,

but I don't know, they don't seem naked to me,

and who are people anyway?

The cat who used to live with us has gone to seek his fortune,

He escaped one day in the blink of an eye, in search of tomorrow

the beautiful little black cat we all used to pet.

A kitty black as night,

carried off in a storm.

I think the wind will do him good.

I think that I am wrapped in ecstasy, and Fernanda too, and the homeless cat combing the neighborhood for a dish of food,

I think that happiness is a flag tied to a golden string,

and when I think about it I start to cry and I can't stop

the tears come on stronger than ever before

my face becomes a whirlpool of tears and my fragile

hair turns gray.

Sometimes, when I lay awake in bed at night, I ask myself:

Is it possible to love animals?

is it possible to love them for real?

Gabriela says it is

but the other day she also said that I have a cold heart

A cold heart!

The cat was in a bad way when she found him in the street, he had an open sore on his belly and she put him in her car and practically begged me to take him in.

To me he was but one living thing among others,

I was more concerned about my possessions:

cats break things, cats are troublemakers,

they go crazy and do what they damn well please.

One day he knocked over a vase

and without water all night the flowers died like polluted fish

and he ate some croissants and the bag they came in and everything.

And he tore through my clothes until only threads hung in the closet.

So Gabriela loves the cat and not me.

Or in her eyes the cat expresses love better than I do.

Why?

Am I really that bad?

Is my heart really that cold?

I'm 26 years old and I want to fall in love.

The fact is I don't really need a pet,

I'm happy that the cat has gone on his way,

Not because he's freer now, I'm just glad I don't have to take care of him anymore.

I believe it is possible to love animals, but only if the love is lasting,

only if it takes place over many years,

and I believe it is possible to love humans,

because the love of my life is alive,

he's waiting in the street, he's come on foot

and soon he will appear inside me.