Journals

That was my get-better journal. It took me a while to figure it out; at first i wrote every day, the pain overflowed my head, it needed to get out, quickly, so i wrote, and i wrote. Little by little i wrote less frequently, not realizing the entire objective of that journal, one that i inadvertently decided from the first moment i wrote my name and phone number on the first page. I wrote the last page of my previous journal on the last day of the year my father died, just a few weeks after it happened, still fresh with mourning and anger, and sadness. I wrote the first page of this one on the first day of the new year, i wrote -new beginnings- on the front page, naively thinking i was ok enough to start over, i know now that i wasn’t. 

I kept writing on it as the months passed, less and less, still with the same passion every time, but the dates started to be further away from one another. First it was just a day or two, then a week, then a month, then this last time five months. The year is coming to and end and i only write when i feel overwhelmed by my life, sometimes about loss, or doubt, or love. It’s all connected in the end, the turmoil of those few months were a mixture of these things and more. Mourning, therapy, relationships, professional career, success, failure, anger, resentment, confusion, sex, envy, betrayal, money, escaping. It all came through for me. 

It took me exactly two years to finish my red journal, the first one i ever got, with it’s leather binding and empty white pages, no lines, just an empty space devoted to my ideas and feelings. This black Lego journal is not even halfway done and i’m closing on the second year. Then again i feel no rush now, no guilt for not writing as often as i think i should. I realize now the thing i set up to do when i began writing on this black leather Lego themed journal, i was meant to get better, to fix something that got broken, that almost killed me in ways.The fact that i don’t write as often seems like a symptom of me needing to release pressure everyday less, it is me getting better bit by bit, slowly, but steadily. 

I find myself still writing about many of the same things i did at the beginning: my fears, my lovers, my dreams. Each time with a different light, each day with a bit more experience. Sometimes i write about new things, unexpected developments and adventures. Sometimes i still write about my dad and how much i miss him, and how sometimes i long for his advice on the simplest of problems. Finally, i sometimes just write about what’s going on, a sort of archival record of my life for when i want to look back and know what was going on in my head and life in a particular date, who was there, why something happened or how i was feeling because of it. 

Writing is my pressure valve, when the going gets tough i get writing, and then going. Pardon my literary license from Billy Ocean. When your head is as messy as mine you need a way to organize and express loudly your inner thoughts, because if they stay in they remain as a blur, loud noises in the middle of the chaos that is the human mind. When you write or speak them out loud they become real, they are somehow tangible and you need to deal with them, you can’t unsay them, they can’t be unwritten. That sound was heard, that ink was spent. And with such actions, consequences are demanded, and actions must be taken, and thoughts are born outside your own little universe. 

I write because that way i can’t escape my inner demons, i make my writing public because that way i have to confront myself, and the readers become the witnesses of that confrontation. That way i have absolutely no choice but to do something about it, to learn, to act, to be more than i thought i could ever be. I don’t know when i will finish writing in that black Lego journal, it will take as long as it has to, but at the end, i know i will be ok. With any luck the next one i own will be full with ideas, happy thoughts and great memories. One can only hope.

Mi Historia de Mezcal

Con frecuencia me preguntan ¿como terminé dedicándome al mezcal?. La verdad es que uno no busca al mezcal, al contrario, el mezcal te encuentra, llega en ese momento de tu vida en que tiene la capacidad de cambiarte la vida si le das la oportunidad.

En mi caso particular mi historia con el mezcal comenzó con dos temas que me movieron por completo: el primero, un corazón roto, en este caso, el mío; y segundo, cuando llego a mi vida una de las personas a las que más quiero, mi amiga Paula. Ambos hechos sucedieron con diferencia de unas pocas semanas, en el gran esquema de las cosas podría decir que fueron simultáneas, y solo así se pueden entender, entrelazadas y potenciadas una por la otra. 

Primero conocí a Paula, nos habíamos visto dos veces en la vida, sorprendentemente una en su casa, y una en la mía, ambas ocasiones por causa de amigos en común que ya pensaban que deberíamos de conocernos; sin embargo, fue un jueves por la mañana que todo cambió. Como todas las mañanas estaba revisando mis redes sociales, en este caso Twitter, en ese momento Paula y yo ya nos seguíamos mutuamente aunque no fuera más que una cortesía, ella pregunto -¿Quien me acompaña por un pan dulce?- y yo, en un exabrupto extraño en mi, me ofrecí inmediatamente. Quedamos en el Alcazar de San Jerónimo, comimos pan dulce con higos y tomamos café y chocolate caliente. La conexión fue inmediata. 

Vino mi fiesta de cumpleaños y con ello la catástrofe, terminé a gritos con uno de mis mejores amigos, del que debo admitir estaba yo obsesivamente enamorado. Terminamos nuestro corto experimento romántico en caliente, ni siquiera tuve ganas de seguir la fiesta, me ahogué en ron cubano y quedé inconsciente en un sillón. 

Paula por su parte venía saliendo de una relación importante, estábamos solteros, dolidos y teníamos ganas de comernos al mundo para llenar ese agujero que había quedado en nuestros pechos. Así empezaron varios meses de farra descontrolada, particularmente de miércoles a sábado en los rumbos de la Roma-Condesa. Un día llegamos al Club Social Rhodesia, recién remodelado y con una barra de mezcales escondida rumbo a la salida del primer piso. Yo ya había tomado mezcal antes, en uno de esos cuchitriles de la Condesa que se pusieron de moda unos años antes, pero nunca le había podido agarrar gusto. Todo eso estaba por cambiar. La música sonaba fuerte y nosotros bailábamos más. A media pista Paula me dijo -Vamos por un mezcal-con al decisión de quien sabe exactamente que es lo que quiere del mundo y esa frase se convirtió en un grito de guerra que repetiríamos por el resto de nuestras vidas, a veces para ligar, otras solo por reconfortarnos mutuamente, pero siempre con ganas de llegar a el, y a todo lo que empezaba a significar para nosotros. 

Al final de ese año recuerdo que nos hicimos muy amigos de Paco el de la barra, se sabía el procedimiento a la perfección: si Paula o yo llegábamos con un guapo el servía y de ahí la noche decidía que tenía que pasar. Así se nos fueron seis meses, entre música, fiesta y mezcal. 

Luego vino el viaje a Oaxaca, ella iba de trabajo y yo, que veo burro y quiero viaje, me apunte a acompañarla. Planeamos poco, pero preguntamos a la gente correcta, así llegamos a la Mezcaloteca A.C, donde Silvia y Marco nos dieron la primera de muchas cátedras sobre lo que era, de donde venía y lo que podíamos esperar del mundo entero del mezcal. Es como cuando te llevas un guapo a casa, lo disfrutas, apenas lo conoces, te entregas, luego por la mañana lo ves de nuevo en otra luz, puedes reconocer sus detalles, platicar con el, conocerlo en serio, y ahí es que por fin te enamoras. En ese momento me enamoré del mezcal para siempre. 

Pasaron las semanas, Paula buscaba trabajo y yo no sabía bien que hacer con mi vida. Hasta ese momento estuve trabajando en el área de Social Media Marketing en Best Buy México, manejando redes sociales, publicidad en línea, nada más lejos de mi carrera universitaria en Relaciones Internacionales. En algún momento ella encontró trabajo y como dicta la tradición nos invitó una comida estelar con su primer sueldo. Fuimos ella, su prima Mar y yo al Azul Histórico, tenía una semana abierto. Su carta de mezcales era limitada pero con algunas joyas escondidas. Acabamos con todo, estuvimos nueve horas comiendo y bebiendo, una de esas sobremesas de las que te vas a acordar toda la vida. Ahí nació la primera idea, entre risas -Deberíamos vender queso Oaxaca y mezcal-. No recuerdo quien fue el primero en decirlo, pero todos secundamos de inmediato, ese era el camino a seguir. 

Como muchas ideas de borrachera, esa se olvidó en nuestras mentes por un tiempo, Paula y yo nos distanciamos, no recuerdo ni por que. Yo me salí de mi trabajo de oficina para trabajar con un muy amigo en Relaciones Públicas, era medio free-lance pero yo no tenía ganas de algo demasiado serio, pasaron los meses, el trabajo iba bien, los clientes estaban contentos y yo me podía parar a las once de la mañana de la cama. Eventualmente recibí una llamada de alguien en IBM, necesitaban a alguien de mi perfil, era una gran oportunidad. Algo que nunca me esperé tan pronto. Contratación directa, buen sueldo, un trabajo interesante y que aparte de todo se me daba muy bien. Mi familia estaba feliz, y mucho más tranquilos pensando en que toda la inestabilidad que me caracterizaba se habría terminado. Fue un mes de entrevistas y exámenes, con colaboradores, jefes directos y jefes indirectos. Me contrataron, el salario al final no era todo lo que yo esperaba pero seguía siendo una gran oportunidad para un recién graduado. 

Primer día de trabajo: cubículos, corbatas azules, manuales de procedimientos. Algo no estaba bien, no me sentía agusto, ni feliz. Segundo día de trabajo, mi nueva oficina, un cubículo con vista al estacionamiento cerca de una zona industrial. Crisis-esta no puede ser mi vida, me voy a tirar por la ventana en un mes-en caliente renuncié. Me disculpe con la directora, inmediatamente le hablé a mi padre, en ese momento no le dije que había renunciado, solo que no me habían contratado. Le conté de la idea del mezcal y me dijo -hazlo, yo te apoyo- y así fue como empecé. Tomé una maleta y me fui a armar un plan a Veracruz con mi padre. Después tomé la maleta de nuevo y sin conocer a nadie me fui a Oaxaca a probar suerte, ahí conocí a todos mis mezcaleros, con los que sigo trabajando el día de hoy. A la mayoría los conocí por suerte, de formas fortuitas, en la calle o en el coche que se quedó sin batería. 

Y así fue, esta es mi historia del mezcal, así llegó a mi vida y la cambió por completo. Ese cambio no ha terminado, todavía tenemos mucho que hacer. Pero confío en que nada me faltara.

¿Cual es tu historia?.

Late night driving

There i was again, driving, going north like many times before, like many, but this time it felt like no other. I drove to the unknown, i drove to you that night, and in a way to myself. I repeated what i wanted to say in my head, as i often do, practicing what i may or may not say in imaginary conversation that usually never come. But there i was, on my way towards a path my brain saw as a deep cliff but my heart felt like a ramp to fly into the skies. 

I called to let you know i was coming, i don’t think i would have dared to ring the bell with all your family there. I was being daring but i had no desire of unnecessary interaction with former in-laws. The road from the front gate to the house felt longer than before, like the forest wanted to stretch the seconds before the inevitable. It felt like the universe was trying to tell me something, i didn’t listen, i didn’t want to, i didn’t need to, all i wanted and all i needed was already stuck in my head, as it should be. I knew, for the briefest of times, what i desired to do, and for a change, i did it. So i came to you that night, with my heart on my hand, again, for you to take it. 

And so you did, afraid, guilty, happy as well, in the middle of a big bowl of whatever you were feeling right there you said yes. So we gave it a shot, a second chance to a story that, in all fairness, was very much doomed from the first try. We didn’t care, we went for it, for once we were daredevils of love. Looking into the depth and smiling at it, jumping high and enjoying the air as it swooshed around us, roaring, screaming, shaking us all over, as it couldn’t believe we would take that leap. 

The rest of the story went pretty much as everyone, including ourselves, predicted. We are undeniably incompatible. It is something we love about each other and something that delivered the promise of doom upon us. Yet for all the love that might have been there, we really could not last, not this time, and most likely not any other. We are who we are, i don’t want you changing for me, nor i’m willing to change myself for you. That is not how love works, the only thing you ought to be is yourself: the good and bad, the pretty and the ugly. The only change that can ever last is the one that comes from inside, the kind you can’t force upon someone, the one that just sort of happens without you noticing. 

From what is worth, i regret nothing, nor do i apologize for anything, i wanted something and i took it, for as long as i could and as better as i was able to. It was a short but enlightening experience, painful but fun, it took my limits to places i never thought they could be stretched to, and got me thinking in ideas that i never would have considered. It was worth every tear and every bad night. Although i will say one thing, that sort of emotional roller coaster is one i do not wish to ever ride again, i am indeed a one lesson kind of man.

Grinch y cursi

Esté de acuerdo o no en festejar el 14 de febrero buena parte del mundo a mi alrededor hace registro de el, para bien o para mal, en menor o mayor medida. Puede ser con un chocolate, un mensaje de Whatsapp o una cita con producción de comedia romántica. Cada quien sabe como, que y con quien lo celebra. Podemos tomarnos al pie de la letra el tema del amor y la amistad en su manifestación moderna y comercial, o recordar al obispo mártir ejecutado en el siglo tres. 

Si tuviera que elegir entre los que lo celebran y los grinches que se dedican a defenestarlo creo que sin dudarlo mucho me pondría el abrigo de pelo verde y empezaría a mentar madres contra el consumismo en Twitter. Sin embargo, muy, muy adentro de mi debo admitir que eso sería solo de dientes para afuera. Es divertido si, es una gran oportunidad para hacernos los interesantes y sacar nuestro mejor humor negro soltando madrazos a diestra y siniestra. Cabe aclarar que la cantidad de grinches es usualmente proporcional a la cantidad de solteros que preferirían no estarlo. Me incluyo en ese último grupo, seguramente si tuviera con quien celebrarlo la cosa sería diferente, tal ves no cursi, pero diferente. 

Por ahora en lo que va del día me he dedicado a estar pendiente de todos aquellos a quienes quiero. Por que aunque no tenga un (Inserte aquí la quimera de su preferencia) tengo amor y buenos amigos en mi vida. Mucho por lo que estar agradecido y muchas razones para celebrar. Claro,  nunca es mal momento para estar agradecido y celebrar, para querer y expresarlo verbalmente, para gritarle al mundo que adoras a tus amigos y amas profundamente a tu familia. De hecho creo que lo hago con bastante regularidad, pero si todo el mundo a mi alrededor decide que hoy es un día especial para ello ¿por qué no voy habría yo de participar?. Es cosa de pensar un poco, buscarle ese significado propio al día, pensar en lo positivo que puede provocar en ti. 

Yo por lo pronto, me quedo con lo bueno, con la compañía, la fiesta y las risas. También me quedo con lo malo, el dolor, el acompañamiento en momentos difíciles, los abrazos necesarios que, gracias al cielo, llegan casi siempre sin pedirlos. Me quedo con los silencios, con los caminos andados juntos, con los tragos, con las jodas, con los besos, con los regalos que significan más que solo un objeto. Me quedo con mi vida que no podría cambiar jamás por ninguna otra. 

No puedo evitar pensar en todas aquellas personas que se volvieron parte de mi vida, a veces solo llegan por un momento, muchos ya no están, ni estarán nunca más cerca. Con algunos no quieres hablar nunca más, otros tantos te lastimaron, a veces fue justo a la inversa. Sin embargo, estén o no aún, no puedo negar que se convirtieron en partes inseparables de quien soy hoy, de lo bueno y lo malo, pero de mi persona entera. Gracias a la vida existen esas personas, que sin importar en donde estén y si los volverás a ver o no, permanecerán en mi corazón por siempre. A veces duele, a veces no, pero nunca se irán, nunca van a dejar ese espacio en donde fueron alguien especial para mi, son apartamentos del alma que se rentan de por vida, sean buenos inquilinos o no, algo pudieron hacer alguna vez para haberles arrendado en primer lugar.

Así vamos llenando el infinito espacio en nuestro ser, por que a pesar de lo que a veces nos gustaría o de nuestras intenciones definitivas de olvidar el amor nunca se extingue por completo. Querer a alguien siempre deja su marca en nosotros, tan grande o pequeña como queramos reconocerla pero presente siempre en lo que somos y lo que recordamos. Los más felices aprenden a vivir con las marcas, encontrando lo mejor en ellas, recordando siempre como es que llegaron ahí. Creo que si aceptamos que queremos, más allá de lo que la gente pueda decir o pensar, de si nos estamos poniendo en ridículo o si hay un riesgo alto de salir lastimados nuestras vidas serían mucho más completas, podríamos caer pero después siempre podremos volar más alto. 

The ones that made it all worth it

So, i’m looking at this movie, the kind you watch when you are a bit older than the characters and they are right in that time of their lives when they are figuring out the world, doing stupid stuff, being reckless, taking out all the shenanigans in their young spirits into the wild, figuring out how to actually live, not only survive. A girl, on top of a moving truck, standing up against the wind with the perfect rock song as a soundtrack. A boy, in the middle of a football field, with his dreams crushed saying -FUCK YOU!- and moving on. And then, there was me, 27 years old, trying to do my own thing in life, usually off the beaten track. Couldn't do anything else but to feel a bit jealous of that particular moment depicted in the screen, then it hit me, i’ve been lucky enough to have plenty of those, alone and with people i love, all over my life, particularly over the last few years. So now, and in no particular order, the single scenes in my life that made all the rest worth it, for it was then when i grew up a bit each time:

Dawn, cold, empty college

Early in the morning, i was probably around third year in college, my third college that was, earlier than usual, all quiet, all alone, the dawn breaking and the city in the distance starting to emerge from its natural slumber. For a moment there i was completely happy, there was nothing wrong with the world, i was alone and it was ok, the entire world revolved around that instant in my head, there was nothing else but me and it, all my life choices led me there, and i was, for the first time, ok with it. 

Soundtrack: Rent-Will I?(Original Broadway cast)

Spanish course final, high school

The teacher forgot about the test that day, she was a diplomat from Nicaragua with a very bad temper. We all got to the classroom, a bit nervous since she was quite a bitch, and most of us depended on that test to pass the semester. Passing grade was 70, i got a 71. Can’t remember any other time i was so happy to get a grade since then, it meant freedom for the summer, peace back home, happy family vacations and a feeling of accomplishment close only to what the Nobel Literature winner must feel like.

Soundtrack: Billy Idol-Dancing with myself

Niagara Falls

Always heard of them, saw them in videos, read about them. Never seen them until that day, getting off the bus and hearing them roar in the distance, i was around 13 and not much had happen in my life until then. I was aware of it, very much aware of it, all my problems seemed big back then, my jaw dropped, they were huge, and awesome, and made you feel tiny with all that strength. I looked at them from above, from below, from everywhere i could without crossing the border into the US. It was the first time nature astonished me.

Soundtrack: The Planets, Op. 32: I. Mars, the Bringer of War

Pacaya volcano un Guatemala

This was the third time nature astonished me, also the first one that it really scared the crap out of me. Looking for tours around Antigua we ran into the Pacaya trekking trip. A few hours, no special equipment needed, felt safe for a family. Then we got there, long walk, most of it in volcanic ash, one step forward, two steps back. It took most of my strength that day, but i made it to the cone, an actual active volcano, with a steam cloud erupting from the top. I saw the lava, i heard the -swoosh- of molten rock erupting above me, we ran like maniacs. Not that there was somewhere we could run to, it was a volcano and we were on the very rim of the crater. We were the last crew to go up in six months. 

Soundtrack: Gepe-En la naturaleza

Saying goodbye to a sick relationship, and meaning it

It had been 6 months since the last time i saw him, we were never officially together but he found a way in my life somehow, a sick one looking at it from the distance. Then one day, driving back to Mexico City, in the middle of nowhere, not far from the place were my brother and i had a car accident some years before, the song he made me was playing on the car stereo, a few tears came down my face. I kept driving with one hand, took the CD out with the other, opened a window and threw it into the open field, leaving him there, forever. He has been gone ever since.

Soundtrack: Elán-Que te vaya bonito

Winning that paintball game in Houston

I was a fat wimpy kid back then. Charming, but wimpy, adventurous, but fat. And there we were, my cousins and i, around 14 years old, playing paintball with the older guys. I ran around a fence into a thick group of bushes, a road in the middle, then another big bush. Two guys ahead of me, they ran for it, both butchered down with cold-storage paintballs, the ones that are harder to break so they hurt much more. I gasped and ran, i felt the hit on my back, fell on my belly just passed the bush. The paintball did not break, somehow i made it throughout the snipers alive. Ten more meters and there it was, the flag, all alone for the taking. Sensed a trap, didn’t care, i ran, took it and won the field that day.

Soundtrack: David Bowie-Heroes

Mojitos, music and family in Varadero

First family trip in years, somehow they let me organize it. One afternoon we went to have dinner at the old Dupont Mansion over a cliff, with a perfect view of the sunset. Music in the air, just for us at the terrace, best food Cuba can deliver and the magical wit only procured through the bottom of a glass of rum. The water illuminated a million colors, the sky open like a red canvas ready to be painted on, and the company of some of the people i love the most in this life. I even had that cuban cigar to crown it all as the marimba played its song.

Soundtrack: La Sonora Matancera-Yerbero moderno

A Vivir!, a play that changed my life

I met Odin randomly, or so i think. There is a chance he actually wanted to meet me, since he dated my ex briefly right after me. I do believe it was random tho, he wrote this play, based on a book he wrote, or at least the thoughts envisioned in it. He talked about families, about love, about how we need to let go and find our own path. In a way it changed my life; i still howl at the sky every now and then after that, i saw my parents as humans, not as perfected images on my head, i started the long way to forgiveness for everything i consciously and unconsciously blamed them for. That climatic moment in the second act felt like throwing away much dead weight with the sound of howling coming out of my lungs.

Soundtrack: Coldplay-Viva la vida

Hammock, beach and horses in Jicacal

A beer on one hand, the ocean gushing, the wind blowing, clear skies, sun up in the sky, and i’m just rocking on a hammock, watching it all happen while i smile. This is what heaven could feel like i thought. The loud silence only broken by two young horses running playfully on the beach a few meters away from me. I think of taking a picture with my phone but i don’t, i just kept rocking myself, to the tune of the wind and sea, thinking for a moment that life could have ended right there and i would not have felt cheated.

Soundtrack: Jack Johnson-Better together

Tropical storm, the wave breaker path

It was during some of my darkest times i can remember, i was just out as gay to my family, stuck in my hometown against my will, or at least against my desires. There was a big storm in town, driving through the ocean road you could feel the wind pushing the car towards the city. I drove to the wave breaker path, one of my favorite places in the world, in goes 900 m deep into the ocean, bribed my way in, walked slowly throughout the path, waves breaking, every now and then one big enough would come that covered the path whole. I kept going, against my own survival instinct i kept going. Standing at the end, staring right into the ocean, right in to the storm, i screamed from the top of my lungs, all my fear and anger gushed into the water. The storm grew, covering the whole path with water, i grabbed from the lighthouse with all my strength, i felt small, i felt invincible at the same time, i felt i could die at any moment and the freedom that comes with it. 

Soundtrack: Jamie T-Sticks n stones

Dawn, Real de 14, cold as hell

One of my first trips with friends, i was still in high school,  we drove from Monterrey to Real de 14, i probably slept the whole way. We got there late, tired, to one of the ugliest hotels i can remember staying at. Then the morning came, for some reason we were up early, i think it was the cold, bone chilling cold. There it was, the sky has fallen beneath us i thought, we were at the top of this mountain town and the sky was well below our height, the clouds forming in the valley like white wool carpet that hasn’t been flattened yet. Second time nature astonished me. 

Soundtrack: The Weepies-All this beauty

Xochimilco, candle lit drinking

My first visit to Xochimilco and all its wonders. I remember being slightly nervous of sailing away on a boat even if in the middle of the city. No cellphone signal, no restroom on board. Just a bunch of friends, alcohol, food and, thank god, infinite music. The night came, we didn’t want to leave, so we kept going, we bought some candles, we took down the rain curtains, and sang our little hearts out for hours. That feeling of -I belong- within that group of people came to me that night, like i wouldn’t trade it for the world, i never did. 

Soundtrack: Joaquín Sabina-Por el bulevar de los sueños rotos

Urban Geyser, Havana

College trip to Cuba, various days of proper touring of the city. I liked my college classmates, they were fun but our relationship was never that deep. We went to a show one night, in the Melía Cohiba Club. We got out, and something wonderful happened, we were just standing a block away from the ocean road. We could hear the tide breaking into the rocks, more than that we could see it. A broken sewer led directly to the ocean, each time the waves struck the sewer filled with water and shoot a column of water directly into the sky like a cannon. We ran and danced and played in that urban geyser. For a moment there was nothing else, just good old fashioned fun between strangers. 

Soundtrack: Fun-We are young (Feat. Janelle Monáe)

Dad’s funeral

I was sad yes, i was crushed, yes. And still, the vibe coming out of that room was somehow exhilarating. For along the sad faces came all the good memories, all the stories we all heard a million times, a casket covered and overflowing with flowers, humans touched by my father in the most unexpected and incredible ways. For my dad was not just my dad, he was a friend, a lover, a fighter, a teacher to so many other people. It filled my heart with pride. 

Soundtrack: Joaquín Sabina-Menos dos alas

Santo Domingo and mezcal

Coming from a party, mezcal bottle in hand, best friend by my side, we decided to take on the city. Sipping from the bottle we ended up in the stairs of Santo Domingo in Oaxaca City. Talking about the past, about the future, about how we were going to take over the world one day. Looking at the sky, mind all cloggy from all that drinking, enjoying the quiet of the night broken only by our laughter every now and then. 

Soundtrack: Miguel Poveda-Hacia la vida

Looking out the window, New York City

It was one of the longest days of meetings and work i can remember, the investment deal just signed, elevator celebratory dance right after. Morning after, i wake up, look at the city, realize how big and amazing it seems, thinking to myself -I’m here to conquer it all, it’s all within my reach- One of those i’m invincible moments you are actually seizing. Thinking in the men that built such a place, and dreaming on my own contribution some day. -I can do it i thought- still today i think i am. 

Soundtrack: The Shoes-Time to dance(Feat. Anthonin Ternant)

Dancing at a club, with great friends

We were a random bunch, one couple many of the rest single. We clubbed a lot back then, we were gay royalty there. Vodka and rum all over, a long night before and a long night after us. And when i thought nothing could be out of the ordinary that some came up, we hugged in a circle and danced, and sang, and jumped like that was the best night of our lives, like nothing could ever set us apart. For the briefest of moments we all felt infinite. Turns out we weren’t. 

Soundtrack: Black Eyed Peas-I got a feeling (David Guetta FMIF Remix)

Taking home the cutest guy in the club

Night out with all my girls and boys. Oddly to a straight club, or so we thought. The night was just beginning, maybe a drink or two so far, and there he was: blonde, tall, round and great looking face, perfect straight nose, a few days old beard, and the deepest blue eyes ever. I saw him first and i went -I like him- my two friends came after with the same conclusion. We didn’t know anything about him, nor if he was gay or straight, we just wanted him right there and then. Being a democratic capitalistic society we decided to let the market decide. Each man/woman on its own. Five minutes and we were making out. It wasn’t much after that, but that night i took the cutest guy home. Not a lot of meaning or deep reflexion, just a big, awesome, rush of ego and vanity. And that, sometimes, is just what one needs. 

Soundtrack: Kurt Calleja-This is the night / Scissor Sisters-Fuck Yeah

These are some of my few moments, the ones that made the rest worthwhile, the ones i look back with a smile on my face, the ones that defined moments in my life and in a way my life itself. They are mine and noone else’s. What are yours?, i’m sure you have them, you just have to remember.

¡Hasta nunca 2013!

No puedo decir que te miraré con nostalgia más adelante, ni que este fue el mejor año de mi vida. Para ser perfectamente sincero 2013, para mi, fue uno de los años más duros y difíciles que recuerdo. Algunas de esas dificultades vinieron solas: la bronca con mis amigos, ex-novio, temas de dinero, lidiar con la muerte de papá; otras tantas fueron resultado de decisiones que yo tomé como empezar un negocio y lanzarme al ruedo sin una idea clara de las necesidades y alcances posibles del proyecto. 

Por otro lado 2013 también fue un año de un profundo y extenso aprendizaje: primero sobre el mundo y la gente que vive en el, sus demonios, sus virtudes, lo que los mueve y las condiciones humanas de las que nadie puede escapar; segundo, de mi mismo, he logrado reconocer partes de mi que nunca había podido identificar, habilidades, vicios, verdades que evitaba reconocer, y mentiras que me decía a mi mismo en un intento descabellado por sobrellevar la vida. 

Los golpes me pusieron las cosas en perspectiva, de verdad que nos preocupamos por cosas pequeñitas e insignificantes cuando lo verdaderamente importante se nos escapa de entre las manos en un descuido. También hubieron cosas increíblemente positivas: amigos nuevos, amigos viejos que volvieron, segundas oportunidades, proyectos de negocio, mi familia, mi nueva vida que se proyecta por todo el mundo conforme pasan los meses. 

Termino el año feliz y en paz. Mi cabeza no puede evitar dar vueltas y pensar en el futuro, en el presente, en el pasado. En las cosas buenas que vienen y al mismo tiempo en todas las posibilidades posibles, buenas y malas. Cierro 2013 con dos decisiones trascendentales, dos riesgos que pueden salir increíblemente bien o terriblemente mal. Son eso, riesgos, apuestas que uno hace esperando lo mejor y tratando de hacer el mejor esfuerzo posible para que las cosas sucedan como yo quiero: uno es en mi vida personal, otro en la profesional. Se va cerrando el círculo. 

Creo que es solo justo compartir algunos de las cosas que aprendí este año, unas me tomaron todo el año, otras llegaron casi al último minuto después de meses de reflexión en las que no llegaba a ninguna conclusión que me dejara tranquilo, sin ningún orden en particular ahí les va: 

1.-Pierde tu orgullo, piérdelo en una zanja lejana y nunca lo recuperes, la gran mayoría de las veces cuando nos olvidamos del orgullo y decimos o hacemos lo que en verdad queremos las cosas salen bien, de verdad que es un camino a ser mucho más feliz, sin importar lo que la gente piense, diga, o haga, sigan sus verdaderos impulsos, si te rompes la madre esa es otra historia, algo podrás aprender de todo.

2.-Pierde el miedo, no dejes que te paralice, todos tenemos anhelos, amor, dinero, éxito, si bien no todas las cosas pueden ser conseguidas, la única manera de averiguarlo es intentándolo, lánzate por esa carrera, ese negocio, esa cita de ensueño, ese amor que pensabas perdido, chíngale y vas.

3.-Cuida a tus amigos, a tu familia. Son mucho más importantes de lo que a veces pensamos; cuando todo se pone duro y tupido son los primeros en aparecer y echarte la mano, reconfortarte o de plano abrir la chequera para ayudar en lo que se pueda. Valóralos y nunca pierdas oportunidad de decirles lo mucho que los quieres, suena tremendo pero en verdad puede ser la última vez, la vida es fugaz.

4.-Aprende a perdonar, ésta me está costando mucho trabajo aún, por primera vez en mi vida me hicieron algo que nunca pensé que me fuera a pasar, me dolió, y nunca pensé que podría estar recomponiendo esas relaciones, sin embargo puedo decir honestamente que jugármela de nuevo y hacer un esfuerzo real y honesto por dejar atrás lo malo ha sido una de las mejores decisiones que he tomado, lo que la gente haga con tu perdón y tu confianza es otra historia, la capacidad de poder dar ese paso en blanco es uno de los mejores regalos que me he dado en la vida. 

Terminando con la parte densa de mi mensaje de fin de año quiero compartir algunas de las cosas que lo hicieron mágico, de nuevo, sin ningún orden en particular ahí les van los 10 hitos geniales de 2013:

1.-Beber hasta la mañana una botella entera de mezcal con Paula Sofía vagando por las calles de Oaxaca, las estrellas desde los escalones de Santo Domingo, el Vals de la Bella Durmiente en el altar de la Iglesia. 

2.-Empezar a ir a terapia para tratar de poner en orden mi vida, hacer un esfuerzo sincero por aprender y cambiar lo que no funcionaba. 

3.-Recorrer el Hudson en un velero y en una lancha rápida, en uno con amigos nuevos, en otro con mi familia más entrañable, ambos días perfectamente felices. 

4.-Sol que quemaba, brisa fresca, mi piedra en la escollera, un momento a solas con mi padre y su espíritu a un año de su muerte.

5.-Desde la ventana de mi hotel en Nueva York, después de mis primeras reuniones exitosas, ver la ciudad entera a lo lejos y darme cuenta que estaba logrando todo lo que me había propuesto.

6.-Dejar mi departamento en San Jerónimo vacío, llegar a mi nuevo departamento en el centro, caminar mi nuevo barrio y nunca cansarme de lo mucho que me gusta.

7.-La boda de mi hermano Enrique; una de las noches más divertidas y emotivas que recuerdo. Mucho mezcal, mucho baile, mucha gente muy querida.

8.-Comidas en casa con variedad de amigos, entre cerveza, ginebra, carne, verduras al horno,  videos de YouTube y música. 

9.-Concierto de Foals, estaba triste, lastimado, pero me emborraché, me divertí y tuve a los mejore amigos que pude haber pedido para acompañarme. 

10.-Estar aterrado una noche de diciembre, decir -chingue a su madre- e ir a recuperar a la persona que quiero, perfectamente consciente de que sería difícil y que las probabilidades de terminar destrozado son altas. Dejar de lado un hubiera para quedarme con un es, aunque sea por ahora.

 Y el pilón, porque pues, porque si:

11.-Una semana de conversaciones interminables, atardeceres inolvidables y cubas que parecían no tener fondo con Jerónimo en Ixtapa. 

Así me deja 2013, con un buen sabor de boca después de todo, durísimo, tupido, doloroso y a pesar de todo, feliz. Soy, en efecto, una persona enormemente afortunada, y ese tipo de cosas no se deben tomar a la ligera.

Love in the dark

What is it about the heart that we need to walk in the dark like mad men instead of being able to choose who and how we love?. Why is it so difficult to let go or to let someone in?. It’s crazy if you ask me. 

I’m young still, 27 years old, and experimenting with love ever since junior high. I had one girlfriend and a few boyfriends. Longest continuos relationship of about 6 months; shortest of almost a week. I’ve loved a few people deeply, not like in romantic-comedy way, but deeply enough to care about them years after we were finished and still think of them every now and then. Some were good to me, some were not. But one thing is certain, i learnt a great deal of each and every one of them. 

Sometimes i learnt about myself: my limits, the things that made me tick, the ones that made me smile and the vices that haunted my spirit and could collapse those relationships from within. Another times i learnt about people: how they can feel, how they act under certain circumstances, how good or bad they can act towards you disregarding the actual quality of spirit they have. For life is complicated, some of us have the strength to do the right thing, others find escape in doing all the wrong ones. There’s good actions and bad, then there’s people. In the long run actions can define character, but they have to persist. One great bad action, or one great good one is still too far a stretch to define someone’s character. Luckily we usually have lives long enough to find redemption for our sins if that is what we choose. 

There’s a big difference right there between people considered good and bad. Some can realize the pain, suffering they caused, some want to correct that; others feel they thrive in that same suffering and pain. Usually to quiet their own pain inside. When i think of the good and bad things that happen to me i usually forget how most things we do derive from our own experience, the wish to do this or that comes mostly from our own set of values and mechanisms of incentives: positive and negative. 

Even the way we love comes from precise moments in our life. I once heard that the trick to finding one’s soul mate is to find someone whose particular vices and problems were compatible with yours. I would go a bit further and add that along the vices and problems once should also find someone whose virtues and answers are also compatible to ours. We cannot deny the darkness in every single one of us, sometimes you see it, sometimes you don’t. But it’s there, it’s constantly there in all of us, waiting to be fed, waiting to be unleashed if you let it thrive. Also, we cannot deny the light in all of us, we have it, comes pre-programmed in our genetic code, in our will to live and reproduce and  be happy. Both of them are necessary for the human experience, even if only to realize the things you want and the ones you don’t. 

Even if we can’t control who we love and who we don’t we do have the power of free will. You can choose to answer that call or email; you can also choose to ignore it and move on. Time has the power to erase and transform the deepest of feelings into memories you can keep on living with. That’s one of the wonders of the human condition, the ability to move forward, to continue living even if at one point we thought it would be impossible. If you let yourself do it, you can pretty much get used to the worst situations in life. To this the death of my father comes to mind, such an intense loss, with no unfinished business but still a profound sadness i thought i was never going to be free from and here i am, moving forward, still sad at times but  not enough to paralyze the rest of my future. The same goes for relationships, everything passes. With no regard for the good and bad. Only memories remain, we get to decide which ones we keep: the one that made us happy or the ones that made us angry, sad. 

Sometimes seeing potential in someone and enough will to achieve it is reason enough to stay; on the other hand not seeing any of them is also a reason enough to leave. My best guess is we should keep those who add up to our lives close, and of course drop the ones that are just leeching out on you. Adding or leeching have nothing to do with the quality of person someone is, it is just a matter of their particular circumstance, their own experience and the way they handle those experiences. More than that, it’s important to note that each and every one of us has the right of choice. We can, and we must, filter out what kind of people we need around to make us a better person, to help us achieve our goals, to be happy together with. 

This is my final thought on the matter: the choices we make, the actions we take, and the people we keep close are all cornerstones of the process to achieve happiness, we should be very careful with each of them. No one else has the right to make those decisions for you, no one.