If I have to recall, when you ask me, the good things that happened in my tender years of life, well, I can avoid that answer with "sorry, I have a really bad memory", or play the foreign rol saying something like "sorry, yo habla poquita espaniol",because put into groups the good or bad things is a hard thing to me. I can't say this or that are good or a bad things ( in fact I have poor memory skills); but maybe I can extract from each feeling a kind of "soul" or common feel; like, when you smell a fragance that reminds you the childhood and you said "oh, that's the fragance of aunt Maggie..." and then you begin to remember the little things of your life and start writing a book called À la recherche du temps perdu. But, as I am not one of the best writers in the History of Literature, I have to front that answer with my most sincere narrative skills.

Well, the good things that conducts me into a serene state of "mind" are(I mean,staying in calm, and say "well, life is not that pain in the...neck, as everyone says"),when I think in the people that I have known during this 21 years, that I keep near to me because they open every single one of the doors and windows of my mind, my "soul" (this word is so corny; a real example of bad poetry), and makes me feel the joy of living even though the bad moments, the difficult ones, and the isolation that once in a while shows up near this place. They're maybe a few, and maybe I don't see them that much, but they're necessary to me, because the give me the colors to change the grey things of this life, that sometimes are a lot. 

To me, this year was a very strange one. First I was a little blue and tired just because; but then, the only thing that I was spected years years ago hapenned near my window, in the right moment and in the right hour. And that short moment of my life, that night, that surprise, changed it in all the senses. Now the blue days became into (no no no, I would never say "sunny days") days with smiles, laughs and tomorrows full of promises.

The english class has been always, since school, one of the only subjects that I enjoy the most; and here, at the univerity, I enjoy the english classes as much as always. Now, I have to admit that at 6 o'clock I'm slightly sleepy, and I'm constantly thinking and dreaming about my bed instead of staying at univerity (since 8.30 !!) ; but at the end I say to myself "Well, at least it's english, and not another sleep-inducing class".

For me, the use of blogs was an intereseting and dinamic way to improve our gramatic failures and at the same tame, an instance to progress in all our skills (because, on this kind of gramatic works, we have to play with, for example, the correct using of verbs and conjugations, a good translation of the ideas that we were thinking, and trying that the articles that we write had any meaningful sense). So, the using of blogs is an excellent educational tool, and a challenge to improve, again, the english skills of ourselves.

Even thoug I feel a fluency in my speaking and writing skills, I feel that I'm, yet,  a little bit weak in my grammar and all those things about the conjugations (sometimes I revisit the things that I write and I feel a stomachache because of my ortographic horrors) and time conjunctions.

I think that the best way of getting better on this, is to being constantly reading and writing in english (a friandly advice: read contemporary books and be careful with old books, because they have cryptic work games).

Like I said before, I try to use the english lenguage almost every day, doing all kind of works about it. Either by reading a book, to watch a film without subtitles, pay attention to the lyrics of the words in english and, even, translate my thoughts from spanish to english thinkings(it's silly, I know, but funny at the same time).

I think that's all.

"That's all floks!!"

I think I was into one of those generations that was surrounded by different sources of information about the benefits of being kind with the environment. I mean, If I try to recall some of the slogans, or make a short sentence about it, bringing back my environmental education, I have to say something  like: "All the past generations spoiled, with its indifference and selfishness, the Mother Earth, and now it is your turn and duty to save this place", and I was taught (and mostly by the TV, because everyone asumed that we were stucked into it...and it was true. I don't know if you remember but, Captain America was one of those examples of good behaviour) to have a responsable attitude about me and my world, by trying to fix the mess that the other generations made.

And because of these, maybe all of us (my closely generation), have inside at least a little bug about recycling and environmental responsability. For example, even I'm not into the environmental crusade, I feel as a concern of common sense to not being selfish and cooperate with this task, and respect everyone's environment.

I usually use my own legs to go over the places that I'll go to -in short journeys, of course- , and if I'm in the mood, I use my bicke (just because I'm a danger for the society and myself when I ride my bicke). Besides, riding a bicke here in Santiago is try to ride in the middle of a real chaos; so, for the sake of me and the poor people of the city, I prefer to use my beautiful legs.

I'm not into an organization or anything that is engaged with the environment (or any organization at all...I have a little "thing" with the groups and masses). But I morally supported them. I'm vegetarian, so I hope that is helpful in any way. I mean, it is a really passive way, but it is one. Ah, in my house we select the garbage - the glass, the can, the papper and with the rest we make a compost.

"Money, it's a gas, grab that cash with both hands and make a stash"

I see the money just as a way of exchange; I mean, that's the first idea when I think about it. This maybe sounds very naive, innocent or extremely obvious, but most of people feel a kind of kinky obsession when they have to buy things that don't need with the money that they don't have. I don't feel myself chained to   anything that is  outside myself- with a Thing"... yeah with capital T -; and when I do have to buy something that I really really need, I don't feel that epifanic joy when I buy it. 

But (there's always a "but" somewhere), being honest...yes, there's something (a "thing") that when I see it, I feel something like an imperative necessity of buying it: books. Yes, I have to admit it. I'm like a child in a toystore when I'm in a bookstore or in the public library, or anywhere with tons of books. I love how the old books smells, or the things that the first owner wrote years and years (and years and years and years) ago in the first pages, the decolorated and yellow appeal of the pages, the secrets that a book can have inside (in the silence of the no-spoken word) ; and the best part of all: reading it-. 

But (yes, another "but", and the worst but of all), here, the books are a luxury for the people who can buy "culture". I try to see some solutions on this topic, and I  have a few: maybe I can work and buy all the books that I want t0, but I don't have any worry in working, so that solution is not usefull for me; the second one was to shoplifting, but I'm too much of a  fool in things like stealing and all that kind of funny stuff (I can't even cheat in a test!).

At the end, I put myself some limits on my impulsive feelings and I start to think "c'mon , you don't need it that much", and it's true. Then, I'm back into my state of little bourgeois that convinces himself in not needing that kind of Things ( with capital T and without but).  

By the way, I'm a mess with money.

There will be a run-off between the two presidential candidates, Bachelet and Matthei.

Everyone supossed, even in the most realistic members of the chilean right wing, that the "Nueva Mayoría" candidate, Michelle Bachelet, would be the winner of the elections on first round  . But yesterday was the day of the optimistic ones of the "Alianza" coalition . According to the chilean Constitution, a candidate can win the elections on first round, getting at least the 50% percent plus one of the votes. But yesterday's scrutiny gave to Bachelet nearly the 46% of preferences; turning the hopeless faces of the "Alianza" members, into a hopefull looking ones.  

The second round vote will be on Dec. 15.

While Matthei offers a continuation of the current president, S. Piñera, legacy - which turns the chilean old fashioned right wing, into a more liberal one that takes distance of the Pinochet's figure, and gives importance to the economic values of the human being, calling themselves the protectors of the "freedom of choice"-; on the other hand we have the Bachelet's campaign, which offers a sustancial change at the Guzman's Constitution - that was, obviously, elaborated during the dicatatorship-, and turns the lead importance at discussions as the same sex mariage; changing the educational and health systems; abortion rights; etc. They're both radically opossed in values issues and economic matters.

Now the discussion will be focus not only on the political concerns, but in the personal lifes of the two candidates. Because they share, before the "coup d'état" an slightly similar way of life; because they both were daughters of high commands of the chilean air force FACH; but after the military coup the stories changed in a vertiginuos way, with the Bachelet's family being persecute by the coup leaders, tortured and even killed; and Matthei's family being part of the "Junta".

Now, the scene is changed, we have two candidates instead of eight, and the options are reduced.

  

News  from:
http://santiagotimes.cl/bachelet-takes-imposing-lead-run-vote-election-marred-low-turnout/

I'm not gonna vote on this presidential elections. For real changes, first, in a capitalist system(and I'm not making a discourse about it, I really don't), were the politicians are just a  medium of the ecnomoic concerns -and all politician knows that very well -, voting is not the best way of achieve that goal.

And I do have troubles with this task, and most of all with people who lived during the dicatatorship. And they're right, but -to me- until certain point.

People who grew up on fear, knowing that, if you  -even-  had a critical thinking about the paths where the country was going to , if you had raised your voice against the countless humiliations; the genocidal and megalomaniac dictator with his criminal friends  would surely hounted you till make shuted up your "communist" mouth(...for ever) - beacause, for them, if you weren't a "real" chilean, you were part of the terrorists.

But one day the people started singin'.:"Chile, the Happiness is coming". And we're still waiting for happiness (and maybe, just maybe, the wallet of those politicians that builded up this "happiness", is very very happy. Not like the mother that can't feed the hungry mouth of her childrens because of the miserable salary; or the old woman and man that can't afford a decent health, a decent way of life, beacause they didn't have the modesty of die three days after their retirement; etc...)

I'm not going to wait for happiness just with taking part of this political circus ; the happiness will never come just with the act of voting. If you want some change ( this is the way I see it), you have to build every day your "republican" ideals, because your voice is not just a mark in a paper every four years. I see the suffrage like a kind  of "assistancialist"  way of penetrate in the community (like the UDI in the poblaciones), an easy way of demostrate the participation. Beacuse there is not a real participation or a real presence in the problems that you want to resolve, you're not making a change, you don't use your hands and neither your mind for change this fraudulent system; and believing that a politician will make that for you, is a really lazy way of compromiseing with some change (or anything at all).

Your mind is being chewed by the speeches of this very very "honest" people and your identity is being totally erased.

I think I (we) can change my (ours) way of life, but not with "mediums"; like the church and the priests with that thing called god. I bealieve in the direct action, in the direct participation and common work.

And I don't wanna be a politician.

"Without music, life would be a mistake." , said once a mustachioed fellow. 

What kind of silly question is “Do you like music?”?, because everyone likes to listen somethin' that they can’t say, but the melodies or lyrics can; can take what you feel "inside". 

All the “good” composers (because there is a LOT of crappy musicians) understand that connection between the feelings -the things you can not tell by the guilt of the useless words- and the compositions. Chopin understood that connection, by playing piano –that monster- and made it cry and laugh; he put at the melodies the anger, the sadness, the desolation, the Love –in his more closely related language: the Music-, the childhood, the Time that don't forgives and all that crucible of things that we call “feelings”. Hendrix understood too, by his way. He could talk the language of his guitar, he could make love to her and fall into the torrent of the melodies, the ecstasy of the holy communion among man and Music. 

Saving the list of artist (or wizards) who could touch the Hidden Muse – Davis, Monk, Wagner, Parker, Drake, Morrison, V. Parra, Mahler, and a long, long, long etc., I’ll keep with the latest "poète maudi": Bob Dylan; or Rimabud with a guitar slung on his back. 

But, why Dylan? Just because the lyrics, as a mirror of the soul of the deprived of life and the commons feelings, the ones who maximize the emotions, or experience an alternative of emotions as they could be lived in a more expressive, direct or harrowing way. Listening to their songs, I feel like I’m throw out into a train of waves of landscapes;  as if this life has a thousand of windows in which I can see  plastic lands; or this soulmate is telling me the history of different ways of lifes, telling me about the scars of time, the journeys of imagination, with his harmonica and guitar. And while I’m paying attention at the sea of his melodies, cigarettes ashes, there they go on the floor.