He lay there, on the bed, static, looking at the letter. The only movement in his body was that of his dark eyes rolling from side to side with the flow of words. He read them one by one, once, twice, as many times as necessary, because as sentences unraveled, the sick familiarity of the message was beyond his comprehension.

Words that had belonged to him, expressions that had once carried profound meaning, flowed inanely through each line. The intimate, flirtatious compliments; the recollections of past memories, the special nicknames, the declaration of a unique love… They had all been said before, and yet, they were not for him. What had been special once was being prostituted, corrupted, and used.

Had he been standing, his body would have fallen to pieces one by one. Shattered. Broken. First his knees would have faltered and tumbled to the ground taking along his pride; then his back would have abated, no more strength, no more support, no more sustain; finally, his upper body would have let out a soft cry under his breath, falling over to the ground as the immense weight of the betrayed love he carried under his chest weighted on him. But no movement occurred. He was frozen. Motionless.

Stuck in an instant, staring into space as he recalled in his mind moments he had shared with the woman of his dreams. Their beauty, the bright colors of those recollections, were being tarnished as the deceiving words resonated over them. Still beautiful, they had lost their vivid innocence. Colors had turned a shade of grey.

Betrayal. Disbelief. Sadness. Disappointment. Anger. Impotence. Jealousy. Denial. Obsession. Love. Hate. Love. Hate. Love. Hate? Love… The war of emotions unraveled within, fighting around his navel, tying his insides in a tight knot. The revolting feelings made him feel animal, irrational. He felt like throwing up.

Things began to fly across the room, walls were punched, pictures were torn down from the walls, mirrors were broken, muted yells resonated on the thin glass of the windows. Yet, the destruction occurred within his mind, as he still remained there, unable to move, on his bed. Stuck in the intact room, staring into space with the stolen letter by his side.

Unable to find rest and sleep, he looked at the ceiling for hours into the new day. Nothing had been true. She had never been his. She had never even known his name. Still, he mourned silently, not for what had not occurred, but for that which never would. Fixed, as the death of an illusion is a pain beyond tears.

Eventually, the grief within took away the last shreds of energy he had, leaving him unconscious, stuck in a restless nightmare, as the time for dreams was long gone.

Photo by gnato

Dicen por ahí que cada quien forja su propio destino y que la vida se construye con base en las descisiones que cada persona toma. Estoy de acuerdo, siempre he pensado que las elecciones que hacemos cambian la ruta de nuestras vidas, nos permiten guiar este gran barco y darle rumbo. Sin embargo, también hay que reconocer que el oleaje hace su parte y a veces nos lleva a lugares inesperados, nos saca de la ruta o nos sorprende llevándonos a tierra fácilmente. La suerte tiene un papel crucial en lo que nos ocurre, en los resultados de nuestras elecciones.
Today, I made the choice to go to a movie theater and watch Babel. Luck took care of the rest. Luck made me (and some friends) get late enough (after a 45 min bus ride), so that tickets for the next 2 screenings were sold out. Luck didn't wanted me to watch Babel. Lucky was that they had Flags of Our Fathers showing 15 min later. Lucky they still had tickets. The theater, I had herd, was one of the best in LA; and lucky for us our movie was at the main room, the Arclight Dome. Amazing is the only way to describe an espheric room, in blue and golden, with a huge (HUGE!) rectangular screen that had a bit of a curvature to surround the audience.
Lucky we had the best seats of the house, and even luckier was that my seat was right in front of the seat of the black guy from the TV series Scrubs (I guess being in LA helps the cinematic luck and the celebrity encounters).
So that was luck today. Of course it ended with a treat, being Halloween and all. Unlucky was that we got in the wrong bus, had to take another one and still walk for forty minutes. That's life!
As promised, here is another story, a light and funnier story, which is based on a true event but as every adaptation is not real at all!! Just a bit!!! In case you wondered, it is also about luck. Hope you like it...

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A vase of luck

Life is very much a game of luck. Some days everything just works the right way; life seems easy and fun. It is in those days that a weird feeling of happiness and overconfidence takes over hopeful individuals and a sense of power makes everything and anything seem accomplishable. Those days are great, we have all had them every once in a while.
More often, you can encounter sad individuals with a gray cloud of rain following them as they walk facing the ground, jumping at every single sound, falling on their face as they carry a big box, and stepping into all the wrong places. You actually avoid them from the distance hoping that their bad luck will remain their own. Being them is uncomfortable, because in those days in which you have to face reality and even bad luck at every single place you visit you also face embarrassment.
It is difficult to determine whether it is destiny or just personal mood the cause for these two extremes on a determined individual, to shape the path of a certain day. Life is like that, one might say those changes are what keep life exciting and scary.
Scary is how I would describe teenage years. Life in junior high is not the high point for most of the people, one might say that the gray cloud is just part of the daily outfit of teenagers. Nevertheless, my life was moderately uneventful either way. Being a shy, intelligent kid kept me out of trouble and also limited my outbreaks for social success.
It was unexpected, yet at a certain point during my first year I encountered one of the good days. It had begun with being assigned to work with a beautiful girl who had the best smile I had ever seen. It is obvious to say that I had had a crush on her for a long time. So happiness took over me, it was a chance to change my uneventful life.
We agreed to get together that afternoon to begin with the project. She suggested her house, I agreed immediately, she said at five, I said yes, she told me to bring the materials, I said sure, she could have told me to make it by myself and I would have obviously agreed. The rest of the day went well, classes seemed more bearable, my mother cooked my favorite dish for lunch and I even found a my favorite CD which I had thought to be lost.
I got there at five and we went inside. She told me to settle on the living room and that she would be right back. The house was impressive, it was stylishly decorated with modern furniture, abstract paintings on the wall, a large window that had a view to the long backyard and the pool, and couple of tall, tasteful pottery vases on the floor just beside the spiral staircase where she had disappeared just moments before. I was amazed, it was just getting better for my materialistic self: she was beautiful and rich.
When se came back we began to overview our project and the initial small talk began. Family questions, compliments on her house, what does she like to do on her free time, and so on. She was a great girl, funny, intelligent, and a good converser. Confident as I was, happy for everything turning out the right way and hopeful as the initial awkwardness had just faded, I actually began to enjoy myself in her company.
I got into telling this story about a trip and I got up from the steps were we had sat to make the assignment to reenact some stupid moment of my story, when I suddenly hit something with my back. Her laughing stopped. I turned back and saw one of the large vases swinging down, I quickly reacted and pulled it towards me before it fell, it did not. The second vase, however, had been hit by the first and the moment I secured the former it crashed into pieces all over the living room floor. Silence fell.
My mind started racing with thoughts, should I just turn around and say I am sorry? Should I start picking up the pieces? How expensive was that thing? Would I have to pay? Her mother is upstairs! Should I laugh and break the silence? No, that would be stupid. Can I make a joke? What if the thing was art? Ok, one thing is for sure, the awkwardness is back.
I began to pick up the pieces; she went upstairs as her mother asked what had happened from her room. Yes, the day had changed, the good luck had faded and the gray cloud had settled in. I thought I should probably leave before it made me break anything else. I told her I was sorry, she said I should not worry, with a tone that implied the opposite and we agreed that each one would finish a part of the work. I did not work with her again. Her smile was not for me since that day on.

I have an introductory class to the film major with the 30 other students who will get their degree as filmmakers. Our professor in that class is one of the heads in the screenwriting department and every week he gives us a writing assignment. I guess I am cheating, but I thought they would make good posts in this blog, after all it is mine to give it to you.

This one was the latest, we were supposed to write a story about personal life-changing event. Hope you enjoy!

PS: Ale you might cry and it may seem like I am depressed but I am actually in quite a good mood. Just giving you the heads up!

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About Superpowers
by Diego Nájera


So what about imagination?

Most people do not realize the potential within themselves, but I did. I knew there was something more, something special within certain human beings. The possibility for a greater good; for transcendence. Finally, one day, imagination allowed me to discover that potential when it granted me special abilities.

It was through the training of my own mind, and from an early age, that I was capable of developing the section of the brain where the unknown resides. You know, that 90% percent of the brain that people say no one uses, and where special abilities may be developed and controlled. Skills that I was able to discover, making me different from others. I guess you could say I had acquired superpowers.

My abilities were varied, I practiced them according to my mood, and every once in a while I had a good day in which I developed a new one. Those times in which I played and practiced my powers were my favorite time of the day, just next to family dinners; the reunion of food and family was certainly a highlight of my childhood.

Some days I practiced my ability to read other people’s minds, one that soon became easy to master. When mom said my name I immediately knew what she was thinking and what she wanted of me. I guess it was easier since mom and I had always shared a special connection.

Later, on a particularly exciting day, I discovered I could travel through time. It was nothing extraordinary at first, as I could only travel to see things that were about to happen. And subsequently, I could go back to the present in order to modify the immediate future. I was never capable of going back to the past, but I never really tried hard enough. I figured the past was not that exciting. I was all about the future.

After one of those good sessions, I would spend hours at a time imagining all the adventures I could have, all the good I could do when I would be finally able to control my powers completely. I figured it was my duty to share them with the world, to safeguard others who were less fortunate.

Time went on, years passed, and by my eleventh birthday I had acquired quite a few abilities, some of them remained basic, some others I had mastered thoroughly. Everything was going my way, being a seemingly normal kid, bright at school, with an amazing family and a great secret pastime. I never thought that my whole world would fall apart. I had never expected to loose my powers later that same year.

It all started in January when we first heard mom was sick. Just like that, my happy life was soon turned upside down. I was swept into a world of white coats, treatments and therapies. It was not the occasion for games or possibilities; it was the time to confront real life. My usual practice hours where no longer possible so I resolved to help her in the normal manner, the only way I could. I had failed at being the superhero; I had not been ready when the time had come.

Still, I learned a lot about battling evil, about having strength and will, about seizing life and doing everything you can to preserve it. After all, she had always been my model of a hero and she was battling cancer in a brave manner.

Her fight lasted a whole year, and we were able to go back to normal life. Yet, normal was no more, my powers had been lost forever. Real life had overtaken my mind. Accessing my imagination, my gateway to those special abilities was impossible. And what we had thought was an opportunity to return to the past, was proven to be just a break between battles but not the end of war. Three years later, cancer came back again and took her forever.

When she fell, I lost everything in me, even the will to bring my powers back. I did not know how anyway. I lost the motivation to search within myself and explore in the quest for hope, everything was darkness, and everything was empty. I had seen my hero fall and I had been left alone. Home was not home anymore, there was no normal next to the word life, and life as I had always imagined it, was no longer accomplishable.

The pain inside got stationed around my stomach and remained as strong as the first day for some time after her loss. A feeling that has left a mark and that comes back every once in a while. It is in those times that I wish I had my powers back: my power to time travel and share a moment with her again; the power to heal others and bring her back; the power to freeze life, to stay in childhood and never grow up.

Eventually, the only power I got back was that of imagination, a power that allows me to dream of better times, to travel into other worlds were evil is no more and my hero never falls.