a post within another changed my bag. Editors went to the concert, and I have been lately, "Unequal" is very nice but very uncomfortable. I took a very ugly, which hung over the shoulder and are tiny, but large enough to enter the wallet and camera. At the turn I lost my key card and had to ask for a provisional Telecinco, but I won a book I had long forgotten, I think since the last concert of Editors, is, by November.
When leaving work I went to the subway, and I found a nasty surprise. Ugly bag is big enough for wallet, mobile phone and camera, but not to include a book, and I forgot the complimentary newspapers in the newsroom. So when I found the book I began to read what was written.
occasional post was abandoned, those who start writing with great energy and I always leave half, like everything else. And there were two quite fit. One spoke of three friends and one which takes the subway. The truth, sometimes amazing to think that over time and a follow from the same things. Because the Metro is taking too long and it turns out, six months after that other post unpublished, I am again connected with these three friends. So now I will copy this post. Just like that.
"They taught us to love our family. Is required. Kinds of blood. Bullshit. Maybe that will serve two brothers from Valencia who married without knowing they were, but not true.
Sometimes you want a family, and sometimes it does not want. Or sometimes, simply, is not known, and therefore has not had a chance to love her. Last year Tom wanted to convince my friend to go see Franz Ferdinand. I said, "No. I'm sick of seeing Franz Ferdinand. I have cousins \u200b\u200bthat I see less. "Yesterday my mother told me about a cousin, told me he was going to retire. "But something happens?" I asked I, "" How old are you? There will be over 52. "She is 63. My mother told me that the principle had been put to your daughter, who was in Madrid doing a course. No more reminiscent of a daughter, who had never lived abroad. "Sylvia, have three children. Two girls and a boy who has studied computer science, or so computers. " It is impossible
want
anyone. I know a lot more than the lives of my friends that most of my relatives are not direct. And of course, they want more. And they you. While not take your blood.
about a month ago I called for a job that was exciting, but also the most labor hell I've ever lived. The results were a tendinitis in the elbow and a state of nerves between depression and despair.
When I finished I felt strange. Twenty days were thought to not going to happen ever. I did not know what to do. I was as lost. But someone came to rescue me from Bilbao. He offered me his house, his love and his good hand to the kitchen. He gave me a wonderful weekend with Donosti walk right in the film festival included.
Before I went to Bilbao, and in the process of desperately stupid, I received two more lifeguards. One that I had thrown many times, but had not picked up by shame, because he believed he had no right to grab, so just choosing other or sinking a bit more my own. Until, so throw it, I have come to hold on to it, and besides being lifeguards, has been salvagatas. Eventually, enough tears and a tantrum rather caught to release the ballast and grab the float that had long offered.
When I called Monica to come and care should be more Salsa desperate than usual. I noticed it and poked me until the tears started falling. When I hung up the phone was physically exhausted, but with power to do more things. I made the case for the north, and took a plane ticket to go further north.
When I returned I found a well-kept cat and the house plastered. Monica floor filled my post-it, reminding me how beautiful I am and what all I want. Chose each strategic point: The food cupboard of Salsa, dishes, bathroom mirror, computer screen ... and even my wardrobe. There were his post-it orange, speaking with admiration, affection and trust, words that I am not accustomed to using.
Each person has a loving, and also to help. Some people do it with kisses, and some people do it to death. Edu treated me worse than Goio and Monica, but the result was equally effective. I screwed up the alibis, I broke the defenses, excuses me disfigured and banished from my vocabulary the word "fear." At the end of the days I spent at his home in Newbury told me a secret. I can not say what, but it has served to throw in some difficult days that have followed.
I'm with the three as if they were my cousins. Edu still in England, in Bilbao and Monica Goio has spent time in India. I have wanted to see them, but do not carry the same blood. Oh, and also to see to Franz Ferdinand. " Within hours I go back to Bilbao, where Goio will take care to spend my hand down the back (although I do not spend so much time because There are 16 more) and prove his good hand to the kitchen, if only for breakfast because we're going to Pintxos and cider. Monica
will take care of Salsa, and six months later, you see that there are many of their post-it, something bent, for those who always ask me visits.
And Edu Edu ... I won a bet. And I never lose. To worse, losing the bet meant losing something else. Something that I've been looking for a long time. Think that, as the grandmothers say, "was not of God."
For the next hope to win the bet ... and that.
"
