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Archive for December, 2008

Hallelujah

Hallelujah, written by Leonard Cohen, sung by Rufus Wainwright

I’ve heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don’t really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing

Hallelujah

Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you
To a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the

Hallelujah

Maybe I’ve been here before
I know this room, I’ve walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you
I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch
love is not a victory march
Its a cold and its a broken

Hallelujah

There was a time you’d let me know
What’s real and going on below
But now you never show it to me do you?
And remember when I moved in you?
The holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was 

Hallelujah

Maybe there’s a God above
And all I ever learned from love
was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
Its not a cry you can hear at night
Its not somebody who’s seen the light
Its a cold and its a broken

Hallelujah

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The Scarlet Letter

Juliet and I

Juliet and I, up the wrong way of the slide.

Because that´s the way things are done.

How I hate that kind of reasoning. There are thousands, millions of unwritten rules for women that constitute a sort of iron law.

A code that no woman should break. Women behave this way. And if the woman is a mother the rules are stricter.

Those who break the rules are labelled with a scarlet letter.

O  for Outrageous.

There is the rule that states that a mother should stand by and watch while her children enjoy themselves at a park.

There is the rule that says that a mother should tell her children to behave and climb up the slide the right way. Up the stairs, my dear.

And if a mother does not stand by chatting with the rest of the mothers, but runs up the wrong side of the slide daring her daughter to run faster than her, she knows what she has won.

The Scarlet Letter.

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When I started to write in the Word Reference forums, I wasn´t looking for friendship. I never imagined friends could be made through the net.

The net is so anonymous, and it is so easy to disguise yourself  and make up a brand new personality. It is so easy to lie.

But  some of the people I met were more than typed words on a page. I wasn´t writing to them, but talking with them. We exchanged photos, stories, experiences, thoughts.

Last week I travelled to meet two of them, Manuel and Ro.  We had never seen each other.  But we were not strangers.  My friends  were my friends, they were real, they were the same people I loved and cared for in internet life.

So I spent two wonderful days with two wonderful friends.

There are people who do not lie and do not hide behind a mask.

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drinking-salem

I love my cat.

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I tipped my name and password on my  keyboard and clicked enter.

Then the screen went blank. I went to the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea.

I returned with the tea and some biscuits. On the lower left corner of my screen there was a caption: loading.

I drank my tea and ate my biscuits, and carried the cup an the saucer back to the kitchen. I put them in the sink.

On the lower left corner of my screen there was a caption: loading.

I picked up the dry clothes from the washing machine and did some ironing (hateful).

I letf the ironed clothes in a straw basked and checked the screen: loading.

I went to the garden and picked up my dog. I came back and removed my cat Salem from my keyboard, where she likes to sleep.

Loading.

It has taken me forty five minutes t reach this page. Surfing to the other blogs I used to read is out of the question. I simply do not have the time, or the patience.

And the damned company says they can´t connect me to wi-fi or broadband or anything. Just dial up.

Blogging under these conditions is a nightmare and not a pleasure.

Sigh.

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me-and-juliet

Little Juliet and I, riding on a sledge.

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