The cheesiest entry ever.

The title says it all. You'd been warned.

I think every time two souls that have had some sort of connection separate, the world suffers a little.

My friend Javier is very hard on me when I finish a relationship and get sad about it. "You'll get over it next time a pair a cute eyes cross your way" "It's always the same with you, but you'll forget about the whole thing in no time." Truth is he's right. I surely overcome emotional crysis very quickly - on the surface, but my heart can't help but feel a deep melancholy for a long time.
This last break up left me particularly shattered. The conditions in which all ended - beyond the obvious imposibility of keeping a long distance relationship, were quite complex, and the easy way out for my ex lover was just cutting every contact. I just couldn't believe two people that loved each other could end like that, throwing the other to total oblivion.
However, we humans like to believe in Magic or religion or whatever to hold on to in order to find some peace of mind, and so I did. After telling all the story to my friend Raluca, she said there wasn't such a thing as being forever apart. "It's not like you guys don't share memories. It's not like you've forgotten the other. Everytime one remembers the other, you'll meet in a place in the universe only the two of you can reach." I nearly wept after those words, and though I enjoy fantasy, I don't think it applies to human relationships. However, I gave it a second thought and deemed that, since the whole love thing is kind of surreal, maybe Raluca and her esoteric ideas fit into this context and I wasn't entirely disconnected from... can't really write the name without some recoil.

Meeting in our thoughts: the idea isn't entirely new. By the end of "His Dark Materials" saga by Philip Pullman, Lyra and Will have to separate knowing that to restore the chaos of the dimensions, each has to come back to their original world. After a rather sad goodbye (can totally relate to that now,) they promise coming every afternoon to the same bench in Oxford at the same time and, though in different dimensions, they will feel each other's company because they knew the other person was there. Neither of us are walking the streets of Soho now, nor are we embracing under the moonlight in Trafalgar Square, but maybe we travel distances in our minds and meet there in a London just made for the two of us, where no time will pass, will be forever young, and our kisses and promises can last a life time.

I said it was going to be cheesy.

These days.

This entry was more than overdue. I'm sorry I stopped blogging for almost two months, but I was out there having the time of my life. As for not taking the time to write the last month, I have to admit I've been just lazy. Sue me.
I'm back to the good old letters because I desperatedly need to find my smart self again. To tell the truth, I'm terryfied it has left me forever. I'm also back to writting in an attempt of protecting myself from self-destruction. I'm undergoing a stage of self loathing. After feeling immortal, glorious, and on top of the world in Europe, I come here to find I've gained weight, my hair is a mess, and my techniques for flirting - that proved super effective in London, are not taking me anywhere in here. For a month, wherever I went, I was sort of a celebrity and leave alone a exotic Latin American. I came back and people here think I'm the same, not willing to give credit to what I have achieved or learned in all this time. Oh, well, "At least I still have my writing to show the world I'm still here" I thought, and here I am almost begging a muse to come around and strike me with inspiration. If I don't come up with something good soon, I can oficially consider myself a waste of oxygen.
Skin problems and rashes do not help the self deprecating feeling either. I wish it were like Black Swan and the leprosy were only in my head. Having broken up with my lover doesn't do me well either. For the first time in a long time I felt like I was building something with somebody, but life proved me wrong. Oh, well, "At least I have my writing" I thought. Gotta think again.
Food barely tastes like anything. No joke is good enough to laugh aloud and freely. I got a job in the same exchange office that arranged my trip to Europe, and I love what I've been doing there, but the moment I leave my desk, I'm a hollow man again. This is what getting off the ride feels like.
I would be unfair with my Costa Rican friends if I said I'm not glad to meet up with them again, but I've come back in a moment in which everybody's gotta a life but me - and I have zero motivation to look for one outside my job.
I hope this entry doesn't come across as a lot of bitching. Reality isn't that great these days, and that's all I have to say. The saddest part is that I'm not looking for sympathy. I wouldn't know what to do with it. "Oh, Isaac, this troubled kid..."
These days, these days--can't wait to talk about them as in the past.