Llegue a la ciudad de mexico hace poco menos de 2 días. Afuera hace calor y esta soleado.

Llego a esta ciudad de la misma manera que llegue a londres hace 9 años y medio. Sin dinero, sin trabajo.

Por la ventana del estudio de mi madre, puedo ver la azotea del edificio de enfrente. Es una escuela para adolescentes de necesidades especiales. Se escucha en el altavoz el himno nacional. Se escucha a la maestra dar instrucciones para formarce y tomar distancia. Se escuchan sonidos de una ciudad que reconosco, se escucha español. Se escuchan niños mujeres y hombres, todos, hablando español. Un español sin vales, joderes, molas ni guays. Se escucha un español que me cuesta un poco.

Ayer, acompañe a mi hermana al mercado. Me invito un cafe en su casa, aqui el cafe se sirve ligero, muy ligero. Me quede con ganas de cafe. Hace calor afuera. Estoy adormilada y siento los rayos del sol atravez de la ventana del coche. Aqui todo el mundo viaja en coche, y no puedes bajar las ventanillas demasiado por que hace un par de años se desato una ola de asaltos en los semaforos de quienes eran victimas los que llebaban las ventanillas abiertas. Me pregunto si seguira sucediendo, miro alrededor, todos viajan con las ventanillas cerradas. Aire acondicionado, a mediados de noviembre.

Mi mama me acompaño a comprar una targeta sim para el telefono celular que lleva año y medio metido en una caja. Despues fuimos al centro, huele a cañeria y reconosco las calles pero me siento perdida. Pienso que no tendria idea de como regresar a casa. No tengo un mapa mental de la ubicaion de la casa de mi madre.


Me compre unos tenis para correr. Todavia no me atrevo a salir del departamento.

.........................................

Google Translate:

Arrive in Mexico City a little less than 2 days. Outside it is sunny and hot.

I reach this city in the same way you get to London for 9 years. No money, no job.

For the study window of my mother, I can see the roof of the building opposite. It is a school for adolescents with special needs. The speaker is heard the national anthem. Listening to the teacher to give instructions for formarce and take away. We hear sounds of a city which I acknowledge, hear Spanish. Children are listened to women and men, all speaking Spanish. A Spanish without vouchers, fuck, molas or cool. Spanish is heard it costs me a little.

Yesterday, I accompanied my sister to the market. I buy you a coffee at home, the coffee is served here light, very light. I want to stick with coffee. It's hot outside. I'm sleepy and I feel the sun right through the car window. Here, everyone travels by car, and you can not download the windows too much about that a couple of years sparked a wave of assaults on victims who were semaphores llebaban those open windows. I wonder if it will continue happening, look around, all traveling with the windows closed. Air conditioning in mid-November.

My mother accompanied me to buy a SIM Blast Card for cell phone that takes years and a half in a box. Then we went to downtown smells like pipe and I acknowledge the streets but I feel lost. I think it would have no idea how to return home. I have no mental map ubicaion of my mother's house.

I bought some running shoes. Yet I dare not leave the department.

I start again.
What is the point?
There is no point.
Turn the page.
It's tomorrow.
I am gone.

❝ Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.

— The Painted Drum by Louise Erdrich

me pregunto en que lado de la cama me siento menos incomoda.

te miro a 10 centimetros de distancia y la panza me chilla.

te llamo te llamo te llamo, no te llamo

por cuanto tiempo.

So they had to come there
both of them,
under the rain
to perform the rite
that would repair the web of time where it had been broken.

He wrote me:
I would spend my life trying to understand the function of remembering
which is not the opposite of forgetting
but rather its lining.
We do not remember
we rewrite memory much as history is rewritten.
How can one remember thirst?

I want to sleep again.

I wanna switch off and dont be part of anything

i dont wanna talk or hear you talking

I wanna stay in silence and dont watch

I dont want to be part of it
what ever it is


i dont want to sent any apologies
what ever i done that wasnt what you expected

i want everyone to stop expecting

i want everyone to forget that i will not turn up, I will not reply

i want to give it all away

put is all in the same box and give it away

i dont want to understand anything

nor explain


I will read my horoscope and a self-help book, go to my weekly therapy.

And everyday will still look the same.


Square one. is always the same square.

I dont want to reinvent anything. I dont want to start again

I dont want to make the most of anything

Place anything in place


I write in english and it feels empty.

and spanish feels foreign

wordless

I feel wordless. mute.



i dont want to hear again this is just me

shut up

i dont wanna hear myself say it again

i was looking for a mirror with no reflection.. and i found a reflection with no subject

.you watched as i faded away........