Saturday, January 22, 2011

A hiatus to be reckoned with

It is obvious that writing down what you are experiencing is a true commitment, since there are no obligations to report to the world or to your future self what has happened throughout a journey that may or may not have changed your viewpoint of the world (even to marginally recall that without written records). I indeed have failed myself, not only for being undevoted to writing my mind, but also for having been so self-insistent on the subject that might have just led to a disappointing sentiment.

Buenos Aires, Lima, Paris as I have experienced them have consequentially fallen out of the face of the Earth, from the memory of human civilization that has always confied in the foreverness of pen and paper, and where my secretive cerebral imageries will eventually fly away into the dust of oblivion. I don't expect myself to make amends by excavating my memories for interesting topics but one can do it by repenting. Copenhagen lacks just one thing that will also be its advantage and to my advantage. For the season it presumes a solitary world of unhappy beings in the frozen air and on frozen streets. Much unlike the constant preoccupation to enjoy the sun, the parties and hustlebustle that have succesfully driven me away from my personal goals of traveljournaling in South America, or even the family presence in Paris that keep me filled with contentment,...well there are these two things Copenhagen don't have momentarily. And so I am driven back into my own shell and the usual habit of contemplation of all sorts. I think about the icy roads and the foggy nights. I think about my solitary search and my desperation for something stable while the idea of home is still intimidating.

It is not to say the dullness of the Scandinavian winter inspires my determination, which happens to come off pretty ironic. I think it is a perfect opportunity for a rebirth. For a step back from the voyeurist habit that I have unfortunately acquired. It is probably time for me to be where a year ago I would see myself right now, in the present tense: somewhere bewildering...

Okay, I am not made for academia. I don't really write beautiful poems or make novelistic proses while analyzing a subject with a professional stance, either as an occupation or an inspiration. Neither can I transform my daily routines and usual discoveries into suprisingly magical posts that can show off the highlights of my lucky existence. Though, I wish I could. So this manifesto is not even close to a self-pact of blogging again but let's see how the days take me.

Que vuelva mi tremor... y que renazca mi vigor...
y que las letras sean escritas tal como tu las imaginabas

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