Excuse my automatic writing


A black dress is hanging in my room, visible, ready for action. It makes me think on how black can have such different meanings.

We wear black when we want to feel sexy, when we want to be elegant, when we go to a funeral.
We wear black on those days we want to believe we are sophisticated Parisians.
We wear black when our mood is not the brightest.

I’ve known of black lace underwear, black shoes, black scarves, black hats, even black souls.
Can you wear a black soul?

Yeah, I guess you can.

I’ve been wearing a black soul for the past 2 months.
Tomorrow will be the last day. One more act of ceremony and there it goes. The black soul, the black dress.

Bye, bye, black. I hope I don’t have to see you again… at least, in a while.

Dad, I love you. We both know this was for the best.


How to Survive Winter


the muses came to me last night and almost in trance I wrote this. I’m not saying it’s good; I’m saying it’s honest.

This morning, when I left my home I felt cold.
I told myself it was about time,
that it was needed.
But later, after a while, I regretted it.

I like wearing scarves. I hate gloves.
There’s nothing better than thick thights,
wool socks,
warm boots
and knit hats.

Wearing coats always makes me think
of little cauliflowers with layers.
Little or big,
layer, layer, layer.

Wearing coats makes me think of my grandma,
who only had a black coat,
a skirt she sew herself,
some pointy shoes with short heels.
And shirts. Loads of shirts.

But she wore her coat,
her gold earrings,
her mole.
In spite of which she was the fanciest woman in the world.

Winter reminds me of her.
She died on March, when the cold was about to leave.
The night before, I walked around the city,
barely imagining that I’d lose her in the early morning.

She, like her memory,
makes me cold.
Not the kind of cold that bad things produce.
Not her.
Cold because I miss her
and because she’s the example of how not to survive winter.

She almost made it.

When I think of my grandma,
I think of winter.
Winter, which forced her to carry a blanket at home,
to avoid sitting on a room,
to wear gloves.
Winter is the last thing my grandma lived,
and the only thing she wasn’t able to relive.

Well, maybe not the only thing.

So, the question was, how to survive winter?

Thinking that summer will arrive.
And if it doesn’t…
let’s hope we don’t notice.

10 things:

  1. Don’t put your hopes too high on people, because when the moment arrives, the ones you thought would help, won’t. And you’ll have to be grateful with those you didn’t expect to.
  2. I’m dying to watch 2 new tv shows: Masters of Sex, with Lizzy Caplan and Michael Sheen, and Reign, the new CW drama based on Mary, Queen of Scots. I’m not 100% sure of its history reliability, but the scenery and clothes are stunning.
  3. My love for dogs is turning into a condition. I keep snorting every time I see one at the street with a peculiar way of walking or with a cute tail. Will people think I’m a psycho?
  4. This Buzzcocks song caught me by surprise the other day, and now I’m obsessed with it.
  5. I want a new Moleskine to write in, but then again, I already have a half completed one.
  6. I’m supposed to be looking for my Masters degree (which I will be doing next year!!!), but my inability to decide what I want to do with the rest of my life is stopping me from being productive.
  7. The transport company in my city should give me an award (or a voucher for free trips), as I’m constantly using the public bus and subway.
  8. I’m already friends with the entire neurology department of the hospital my dad’s staying at. Well, except for that certain neurosurgeon. In my friend’s words: “Aim high!!”
  9. I love having late conversations about life with a new person. Sometimes, you get the best advice from people you never thought you would –no romantical pun involved. I’m talking about a 50-something-year-old woman.
  10. I cut my own hair the other day, and it felt liberating. I cut off like 10 centimeters and, surprisingly, it didn’t turn out too badly!! In Coco Chanel’s words: “A woman who cuts her hair is about to change her life”