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18 February 2017 @ 01:32 am

Yesterday I remembered a boy I had a crush on when I was a young girl. I looked for his instagram, but found it private. I didn't think so many thoughts would gather around máy memory of him, circling my head like voltures. Words like " masculine", "smart", etc. I found myself thinking fondly of him, and wondering what would happen if we saw each other again. Maybe there would be (still?) some chemistry of sorts,maybe he'd find me attractive.
This whole stream of thought weirded me out, however,because it is all too familiar, as though I was undergoing 2007 again. No Jess, therapy, and this boy. What the fuck.
I have also been thinking what to tell my therapist next time. She said (and holy shit she said it so sweetly!)it'd be nice to see me again because she considered there were some other things worth discussing. I want to know what that is, according to her. I should tell her about my fear of failure, my parents' issue with money,and my shame, but its so hard I dont know if I will be able to.And then there's Jess. I don't want to discuss her, but I am afraid I will have to. I don't seem to get used to her absence, no matter what or how much I write. And I am afraid of losing my mind because of her, because I no longer know what is healthy and what is not, what is fancy and what is true.

11 February 2017 @ 12:02 pm
Last night I dreamed of her.
I was at this huge room, there was a party/event and I was supposed to be there, I wanted to be there, but I don't remember why. I also knew there was this chance of running into her, but whatever, I went anyway.
And we talked for a little. It was her, but not as I remember her, but as a caricature of sorts...we talked and everything was all right. And that was it. Strange, to dream of her even som many years later...
08 February 2017 @ 01:43 am

Eventually, I understood: She was part of my teenage years, she had to go. She had to go, just like everyone and everything from those years went. It was inevitable, and part of a death process of sorts. My teenage years had to end, and her mere presence was a remnant, one I had to do away with.
In this light everything makes sense now.

07 February 2017 @ 12:43 am

My life's nowhere near as good as I'd have it be.
But compared to this time last year, it's pretty awesome.
there's Tarot, work, and the possibility of a Chevening Scholarship. It good. Trust your journey. It good.

03 February 2017 @ 02:01 pm
I had a dream of my father talking about some recent movies which were going to be showcased at the cinema, one of which included an argentine film. In my dreams I saw the trailer, and was creeped out by the appeareance of a black goat. I remember imploring my father to ignore that movie, to ignore the animal and to leave, or sth like that. I was lying in bed and watching the trailer/movie from behind my window blinds. Then I get up, get out of my room, and find the black goat (which became dark brown), lying dead on the hallway. I take a look, and then woke up, feeling uneasy.
03 February 2017 @ 01:56 pm
Me before her: living an unremarkable life, going to therapy.
Me with her: **I cAn See Me LOVING NoboDy bUt yOu For ALL my LifE***
Me after her: living an unremarkable life, going to therapy (again).

It's official, then. I am going back to therapy, ten years later. It's curious, but right before meeting her, and after she left, I found myself going to therapy. She did have an effect on me, she did make me complete and happy. And for that I will be eternally grateful. Of late I found myself thinking she may think of me still, allright, but in a comic manner. It has dawned on me that, perhaps, for her I'm a joke. An old joke, my name is granted to make her do funny facial expressions and some negative remark.And for that alone, I do deserve to keep my thoughts away from her. I ran away from most people who knew me from my teenage years, because the shame associated with that period and that people is unbearable to me. So it's only fair that a dose of my shame went with her, and for that I have to be happy to keep her away.
03 February 2017 @ 01:47 pm
I had a weird dream a couple of nights ago. Basically me, my mother and father, my aunt and uncle, were going to Mexico by car. We just had to border Bolivia and Peru, and that was it. I remember my aunt and uncle being exhausted, for (in reality) they had just arrived from their holidays in Brazil. We were all crammed inside the car, and I remember us stopping at the border with Bolivia to take part in a celebration of sorts. There was this salon, with food and music and shit which was prepared to "celebrate" those who were heading to Mexico by car. The next day, I remember going with my sister to a nearby shopping mall in the same place, in which buying shit before continuing was like a tradition.
I woke up a little bit freaked out by Mexico's appeareance in my dream. 
17 January 2017 @ 06:16 pm
11 January 2017 @ 10:58 pm
Yesterday I read the tarot to myself, a simple three-card spread. In the future position, I drew the King of Cups.
Last night, I dreamed of him.
I was at an office in the stadium of a local football team. There is this guy who tells me to tell him when I left, because he wanted to walk me to the bus stop. I ignore him and later I leave. The guy somehow catches up with me. I am not creeped out, I am not afraid. Instead, I notice he's quite cute. The guy then invited me to his house for dinner. I go to his house, with my sister, and note there are many other people there, including girls. I am a teeny tiny bit jealous, and let him know that he'll only tease me just like he did with the others. In a very seductive way, he tells me not to worry. I follow him to the kitchen and hear him talk on the phone in a strange language. I tease him saying he's speaking tongues, he replies that actually, he's Hungarian. Then it's like it's the other day, and my sister leaves. I tell her not to worry, I'll follow her later that evening. As I bid her farewell, I wake up. Some features of the boy still remain in my memory. The pale skin, the roundness of his face, his blue eyes, the blondeness of his hair...
06 January 2017 @ 02:09 pm
Today it happened.
As I'd written earlier, I cringed every single time Mexico came up in the news, I braced myself ready for the question to pop out from her mouth, my mother's mouth:
Mexican Friend?

And of late, of late I'd started to relax a little bit, because maybe maybe maybe it wa all in my head, and maybe she'd forgotten, and maybe I was being just dramatical.
But I relaex, a little too much maybe, but how would they know? So she knew, she perceived, she sensed my inattention, and so she struck.
"Have you lost
contact with
your Mexican friend?"

And I tried to play it cool, and I asked which one, and of course I knew which one she meant. The only one. The only one who mattered at all. And her name, her fucking name slips out my mother's tongue and I have to hear it, and so the name carries the meaning, and the form, and a very blurry, very opaque image of her flashes before my eyes, and I have to banish her, banish her forever with my reply.
"oh. No. We don't talk much anymore. That happens, sometime".
And she was gone, and the moment was gone, and now I have nothing to fear anymore because she asked, and I answered, and she will rest in peace in my head, stop.