1- Stigmata
2- Krampus (re-watch)
3- The Mask (re-watch)
4- Coco
5- Jigsaw
6- Happy death day
7- Extremis
8- Paranormal Activity 3
9- Paranormal Activity 2
10- París, París
11- Wonder
12- La Llamada
13- Paranormal Activity
14- Paranormal Activity 4
15- Into the woods (re-watch)
16- Inception (re-watch)
17- Pitch Perfect 3
18- Call me by your name
19- Method
20- Joy
21- The Lady in the Van
22- Bridget Jones' Baby (re-watch)
23- Shakespeare in love
24- The Good Dinosaur (re-watch)
25- El Bar
26- Happy Anniversary
27- La mala educación
28- The greatest showman
29- The Ritual
30- Tangled (re-watch)
31- Fright Night
32- The Orphan
33- Every Day
34- A Quiet Place
35- 10x10
36- Incident in a Ghost Land
37- Final Destination
38- A Wrinkle in Time
39- Paranormal Activity 5
40- Gonjiam: Haunted Asylum
41- The Feels
42- The Number 23
43- The Domestics
44- Lady Bird
45- Insidious
46- La Purga 2 (re-watch)
47- The Secret Diaries of Miss Anne Lister
48- Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again
49- Gnomeo & Julieta (re-watch)
50- Mamma Mia! (re-watch)
51- Mean Girls (re-watch)
52- Cinderella (re-watch)
53- Hot Fuzz
54- The Visit (re-watch)
55- Julie & Julia
56- Today's Special
57- The Big Sick
58- Love, Simon
59- On Chesil Beach
60- Loving Vincent
61- Letters to Juliet
62- Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2
63- The Meg
64- Lovesong
65- To all the boys I've loved before
66- To all the boys I've loved before (re-watch)
67- The Blair Witch Project
68- Hereditary
69- Bridget Jones' Diary (re-watch)
70- Hurricane Bianca: From Russia With Hate
71- Sierra Burgess is a Loser
72- The Nun
73- La mujer más asesinada del mundo
74- SPF-18 (why did I watch this)
75- Hotel Transylvania 3
76- Deadpool 2
77- Unfriended: Dark Web
78- Source Code
79- Hush
80- Bohemian Rhapsody
81- Burn The Stage: The Movie
82- The Incredibles 2
83- Crazy Rich Asians
84- Bridesmaids
85- The Little Mermaid (2018)
86- Nanny McPhee and the Big Bang
87- Roma
88- Moana (re-watch)
89- Matilda (re-watch)
90- A Simple Favor
91- Christopher Robin
92- Everything, Everything
93- Mary Poppins Returns
94- Malevolent
95- The Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement
96- Sing! (re-watch)
97- The road to El Dorado
98- Black Mirror: Bandersnatch
99- The Outsiders
100- Les goûts et couleurs
lunes, 31 de diciembre de 2018
Books of 2018
1- La Veneciana - Anonimo veneto del XVI secolo, Ludovico Zorzi 2/5
2- La piel del zorro - Herta Müller 3/5
3- La excursión de las muchachas muertas - Anna Seghers 3/5
4- Si esto es un hombre - Primo Levi 5/5
5- Sin destino - Imre Kertész 4/5
6- La escritura o la vida - Jorge Semprún 4/5
7- Teresada. Inspirado en la vida y la obra de Teresa de Jesús - Louise Doutreligne 2/5
8- En el lago - Javier Martos, Jesús Gordillo 3/5
9- The girl who came back to life - Craig Staufenberg 5/5
10- Desire - Haruki Murakami 3/5
11- Antología poética - Federico García Lorca 4/5
2- La piel del zorro - Herta Müller 3/5
3- La excursión de las muchachas muertas - Anna Seghers 3/5
4- Si esto es un hombre - Primo Levi 5/5
5- Sin destino - Imre Kertész 4/5
6- La escritura o la vida - Jorge Semprún 4/5
7- Teresada. Inspirado en la vida y la obra de Teresa de Jesús - Louise Doutreligne 2/5
8- En el lago - Javier Martos, Jesús Gordillo 3/5
9- The girl who came back to life - Craig Staufenberg 5/5
10- Desire - Haruki Murakami 3/5
11- Antología poética - Federico García Lorca 4/5
sábado, 24 de noviembre de 2018
He somiat amb tu.
No és la primera volta que somie amb tu, des de que ens vam conèixer i des d'este estiu especialment. Però esta nit, per algun motiu que encara no comprenc ha sigut diferent a la resta, ha sigut més intens.
He tornat a somiar amb tu i m'he adonat més que mai de la forta presència de la porta que has obert durant este estiu. Eixa porta que al principi no sabia ni que existia i que durant agost has obert els meus ulls i me l'has mostrat amb tota claredat, oberta de bat a bat i m'has confós com feia molt de temps que ningú ho aconseguia.
Però tinc dubtes. Tinc dubtes de que eixa porta estiga oberta pels dos costats, tinc dubtes de si hauríem de creuar el llindar i veure què passa, o si ens hauríem de quedar separats, cadascú al seu costat de la porta, fent com si no existira, com si no ens adonarem de la seua presència.
I amb dubtes em quedaré, per por a que estiguera jo imaginant-me eixa porta, per por a que me la tanques en els nassos, per por a que no pugam creuar-la i que siga massa tard per a tornar enrere.
Per por a perdre't.
He tornat a somiar amb tu i m'he adonat més que mai de la forta presència de la porta que has obert durant este estiu. Eixa porta que al principi no sabia ni que existia i que durant agost has obert els meus ulls i me l'has mostrat amb tota claredat, oberta de bat a bat i m'has confós com feia molt de temps que ningú ho aconseguia.
Però tinc dubtes. Tinc dubtes de que eixa porta estiga oberta pels dos costats, tinc dubtes de si hauríem de creuar el llindar i veure què passa, o si ens hauríem de quedar separats, cadascú al seu costat de la porta, fent com si no existira, com si no ens adonarem de la seua presència.
I amb dubtes em quedaré, per por a que estiguera jo imaginant-me eixa porta, per por a que me la tanques en els nassos, per por a que no pugam creuar-la i que siga massa tard per a tornar enrere.
Per por a perdre't.
lunes, 29 de octubre de 2018
III. Gacela del amor desesperado
III
Gacela del amor desesperado
La noche no quiere venir
para que tú no vengas,
ni yo pueda ir.
Pero yo iré,
aunque un sol de alacranes me coma la sien.
Pero tú vendrás
con la lengua quemada por la lluvia de sal.
El día no quiere venir
para que tú no vengas,
ni yo pueda ir.
Pero yo iré
entregando a los sapos mi mordido clavel.
Pero tú vendrás
por las turbias cloacas de la oscuridad.
Ni la noche ni el día quieren venir
para que por ti muera
y tú mueras por mí.
-Federico García Lorca
martes, 18 de septiembre de 2018
I'll pretend
I'm scared of pain, that's why I'll pretend not to notice the way you've been looking at me all night. I'll pretend that you're flirting with me in the same friendly way you used to do in high school. I'll pretend not to understand the real question behind your "is there something you need that I could do for you?" I'll pretend not to be nervous and act playful when you take a few steps towards me when we're talking outside my house. I'll pretend to be laughing "just because" and not because you're making my heart flutter and my pulse rise. I'll take a few steps back "because it's getting late and we should both go to bed" and not because I want to take them forward and kiss you. I'll pretend not to wish that hug you gave me would have lasted longer. I'll pretend to have forgotten and not ask you to send me those poems you've written because I'm afraid they might have a hidden message for me. Even if I so badly want to do so. I'll pretend and act like I'm not noticing your gestures, your comments. I'll pretend I haven't had to stop for a second to get myself together before opening the door because I couldn't stop smiling all the way down the stairs. I'll pretend not to notice your eyes on me while you're "taking a break" when we're having dinner. I'll pretend and put my hands around your neck and inside the sleeves of your T-shirt "just so you can feel how cold my hands are", and not because I just want to and maybe because I'm trying to flirt with you. I'll pretend to be distracted and not properly say hello or goodbye to you because I really want to hug you and I'm afraid of you noticing how fast my heart is beating. I'll pretend not to be disappointed that we didn't say goodbye properly the last time we saw each other. I'll pretend because I can't believe you're making me feel all of this. I'll pretend because we both know we want different things for our future.
I'll pretend because there's a chance I might be imagining it all.
I'll pretend because I don't want to hurt you. I'll pretend because I don't want you to hurt me. I'll pretend because I don't want to lose you, even if that means keeping you at a distance.
martes, 27 de marzo de 2018
Ziehende Landschaft
Mann muss weggehen können
und doch sein wie ein Baum:
als bliebe die Wurzel im Boden,
als zöge die Landschaft und wir ständen fest.
Man muss den Atem anhalten,
bis der Wind nachlässt
und die fremde Luft um uns zu kreisen beginnt,
bis das Spiel von Licht und Schatten,
von Grün und Blau,
die alten Muster zeigt
und wir zuhause sind,
wo es auch sei,
und niedersitzen können und uns anlehnen,
als sei es and das Grab
unserer Mutter.
-Hilde Domin
und doch sein wie ein Baum:
als bliebe die Wurzel im Boden,
als zöge die Landschaft und wir ständen fest.
Man muss den Atem anhalten,
bis der Wind nachlässt
und die fremde Luft um uns zu kreisen beginnt,
bis das Spiel von Licht und Schatten,
von Grün und Blau,
die alten Muster zeigt
und wir zuhause sind,
wo es auch sei,
und niedersitzen können und uns anlehnen,
als sei es and das Grab
unserer Mutter.
-Hilde Domin
domingo, 21 de enero de 2018
Pretty bad, but not the worst
I can't remember the last time I was as suicidal as I was just a couple days ago. I don't think I've ever been as ready before. Not even when I spent months unable to get out of bed.
A part of my brain kept screaming at me, begging me not to do it, that suicide is not the answer, that better days will come. But for the most part I wanted to be done. I didn't - still don't, at least not completely - care about... anything at all, really. I didn't care if I had spent almost six years at uni, suffering on a daily basis and hadn't gotten to graduate. I didn't care that I'd never see my family or the few friends I have again. I didn't care about not seeing my sister have a job she enjoys and her having children. I didn't care that I would never get to feel a hug, laugh, look at the moon and stars, listen to music, read a book, write, watch a movie, make someone smile, stare at the rain, travel, feel the cold wind of winter, go to a museum, get another tattoo, go to a concert and feel the music resonate in my body. I didn't care that I wouldn't get to experience so many firsts. I didn't care. There was nothing but black.
Still today I'm finding it hard to want that. I, still, for the most part don't care.
I'm tired, I'm frustrated, I'm angry, I'm sad, I'm empty. I'm done.
I say to myself that the only reason I haven't done it is because of my roommate (and very dear friend). Because I don't want her to come home and find me what she thinks is sleeping, to, noticing I haven't made a sound in hours, realize I'm dead - that I had been dead all that time. I don't want her to have to deal with all that. Not that it would be a messy suicide - I've known exactly how I would do it for years now. I even know what I want done with my remains and with my belongings. The only thing I haven't done is write my will, suicide note and last letters to my loved ones. If I did that... If I did that I'm not sure I could be stopped.
But maybe what stops me is hope. There might still be some hope left in me, which pisses me off to no end. Hope has brought me nothing but pain and despair. I'm sick of having hope, it's always so deceiving. When you feel hope, your expectations - or at least mine - are let down.
I haven't told anyone how suicidal I am. I have dropped hints to both my roommate and my mom, but I don't think they've caught them, or maybe they don't want to see it. I could never blame them for that. I can't muster the courage to say the words out loud. There's one person I might be able to say it to, but that person feels further away from me with each day that passes, so I don't feel comfortable telling her. I don't blame her for stepping away - she doesn't have the best mental health either so I understand that listening to another person's problems can be both triggering and tiring. I understand.
On Thursday I went with my roommate to a café that's next to our flat and after explaining how I was feeling (I did it there so I wouldn't cry), I apologized to her for caring about me and being my friend. She called me stupid and asked me to never stop telling her what's going on with my brain, but... it's hard. I feel that way about everybody in my life. I feel sorry for them because they have to listen to the same fucking stories time and time again and see that I don't get better, that that day never comes for me. It has to be tiring for them too.
I ended up hurting myself, which I know doesn't solve anything but my brain kept saying "at least we're not ending it, right?" And, in a way, it's right. Or maybe not.
I'm so tired.
PS: I feel sad for this blog, when I first opened it I thought that things could only look up from there (even if I'm the only one who reads it because I, in fact, made it for myself), but then time - and my self-sabotage - showed me otherwise. Maybe one day it will change. Maybe.
A part of my brain kept screaming at me, begging me not to do it, that suicide is not the answer, that better days will come. But for the most part I wanted to be done. I didn't - still don't, at least not completely - care about... anything at all, really. I didn't care if I had spent almost six years at uni, suffering on a daily basis and hadn't gotten to graduate. I didn't care that I'd never see my family or the few friends I have again. I didn't care about not seeing my sister have a job she enjoys and her having children. I didn't care that I would never get to feel a hug, laugh, look at the moon and stars, listen to music, read a book, write, watch a movie, make someone smile, stare at the rain, travel, feel the cold wind of winter, go to a museum, get another tattoo, go to a concert and feel the music resonate in my body. I didn't care that I wouldn't get to experience so many firsts. I didn't care. There was nothing but black.
Still today I'm finding it hard to want that. I, still, for the most part don't care.
I'm tired, I'm frustrated, I'm angry, I'm sad, I'm empty. I'm done.
I say to myself that the only reason I haven't done it is because of my roommate (and very dear friend). Because I don't want her to come home and find me what she thinks is sleeping, to, noticing I haven't made a sound in hours, realize I'm dead - that I had been dead all that time. I don't want her to have to deal with all that. Not that it would be a messy suicide - I've known exactly how I would do it for years now. I even know what I want done with my remains and with my belongings. The only thing I haven't done is write my will, suicide note and last letters to my loved ones. If I did that... If I did that I'm not sure I could be stopped.
But maybe what stops me is hope. There might still be some hope left in me, which pisses me off to no end. Hope has brought me nothing but pain and despair. I'm sick of having hope, it's always so deceiving. When you feel hope, your expectations - or at least mine - are let down.
I haven't told anyone how suicidal I am. I have dropped hints to both my roommate and my mom, but I don't think they've caught them, or maybe they don't want to see it. I could never blame them for that. I can't muster the courage to say the words out loud. There's one person I might be able to say it to, but that person feels further away from me with each day that passes, so I don't feel comfortable telling her. I don't blame her for stepping away - she doesn't have the best mental health either so I understand that listening to another person's problems can be both triggering and tiring. I understand.
On Thursday I went with my roommate to a café that's next to our flat and after explaining how I was feeling (I did it there so I wouldn't cry), I apologized to her for caring about me and being my friend. She called me stupid and asked me to never stop telling her what's going on with my brain, but... it's hard. I feel that way about everybody in my life. I feel sorry for them because they have to listen to the same fucking stories time and time again and see that I don't get better, that that day never comes for me. It has to be tiring for them too.
I ended up hurting myself, which I know doesn't solve anything but my brain kept saying "at least we're not ending it, right?" And, in a way, it's right. Or maybe not.
I'm so tired.
PS: I feel sad for this blog, when I first opened it I thought that things could only look up from there (even if I'm the only one who reads it because I, in fact, made it for myself), but then time - and my self-sabotage - showed me otherwise. Maybe one day it will change. Maybe.
viernes, 12 de enero de 2018
Thoughts
12.01.2018 2:03am
I can't believe it's already the 12th. I'm so stressed out.
I'm feeling too many things, but it's like none at all, because they paralyze me.
I feel the need, the urge (have been feeling it for years now) to run away, to be somewhere else. I know it's not my hometown - I was just there and I kinda wanted to leave. I don't know where I need to go, but I have this pressure in my chest, that just needs me to go somewhere else.
I feel like I need to rip off my skin, just get rid of it. Throw it away. It doesn't make sense.
I need to stop. I don't know it what I need is time to stop or to stop doing what I'm doing and just... Stop thinking, stop worrying, just fucking stop. I need to breathe.
I need to study more, or feel like I've actually memorized something after spending so many hours reading and writing down the same things. Like I'm not just wasting time and money and I won't get to leave this city and graduate next year.
I need to move on, to do something different even if there's uncertainty.
I need to pick up some pieces of me I've left behind by accident, leave there the ones that don't belong with me anymore and find new ones in the path ahead.
I want to know who I am, or who I kinda want to be. I'm tired of being lost within myself. I know people around me have their own perceptions of me and I am someone "defined" to them, but I want to know who I am, or who I think I am. I haven't known for years.
I want to smoke my lungs away and disappear with the fumes of the cigarettes. But then again this year I know I will stop smoking. It's been long enough.
I need to stop feeling this anxiety that becomes so overwhelming to the point where it paralyzes me. If I'm feeling anxious why is it not making me productive? The answer is possibly depression, but I just want them both to fuck off.
I want to hurt myself again. I've successfully stopped myself from doing it for a little while, but I just need to feel something that distracts me from this all that overwhelms me. Five minutes would help. Just five.
I want to love someone, but I also don't because it's never reciprocated. But I have so much love to give it hurts and I feel like I'm either about to explode or die from sadness. It's not enough giving my friends and family love, apparently not anymore. Which fucking sucks.
I want a new body, a new brain, a brand new canvas. A do-over because I keep fucking up and sabotaging myself and I'm tired.
I need to sleep, to finally fix my sleeping schedule, yet here I am, now 2:32am.
I want to hit my head against a wall and stay unconscious for a few hours. Even if my worries won't leave me even while I sleep.
I need strength to finally deal with something I've been avoiding for way too long which keeps getting worse and worse because of my postponing. Because I'm terrified.
I need to scream and punch a wall because I'm frustrated with my life and myself (even though I know I'm privileged and count my blessings). What if I break a bone or two in the process? I'll live. Sadly, I'll live.
I want too much, don't I?
Shit.
Have I wasted more time? Probably so.
2:48am.
I can't believe it's already the 12th. I'm so stressed out.
I'm feeling too many things, but it's like none at all, because they paralyze me.
I feel the need, the urge (have been feeling it for years now) to run away, to be somewhere else. I know it's not my hometown - I was just there and I kinda wanted to leave. I don't know where I need to go, but I have this pressure in my chest, that just needs me to go somewhere else.
I feel like I need to rip off my skin, just get rid of it. Throw it away. It doesn't make sense.
I need to stop. I don't know it what I need is time to stop or to stop doing what I'm doing and just... Stop thinking, stop worrying, just fucking stop. I need to breathe.
I need to study more, or feel like I've actually memorized something after spending so many hours reading and writing down the same things. Like I'm not just wasting time and money and I won't get to leave this city and graduate next year.
I need to move on, to do something different even if there's uncertainty.
I need to pick up some pieces of me I've left behind by accident, leave there the ones that don't belong with me anymore and find new ones in the path ahead.
I want to know who I am, or who I kinda want to be. I'm tired of being lost within myself. I know people around me have their own perceptions of me and I am someone "defined" to them, but I want to know who I am, or who I think I am. I haven't known for years.
I want to smoke my lungs away and disappear with the fumes of the cigarettes. But then again this year I know I will stop smoking. It's been long enough.
I need to stop feeling this anxiety that becomes so overwhelming to the point where it paralyzes me. If I'm feeling anxious why is it not making me productive? The answer is possibly depression, but I just want them both to fuck off.
I want to hurt myself again. I've successfully stopped myself from doing it for a little while, but I just need to feel something that distracts me from this all that overwhelms me. Five minutes would help. Just five.
I want to love someone, but I also don't because it's never reciprocated. But I have so much love to give it hurts and I feel like I'm either about to explode or die from sadness. It's not enough giving my friends and family love, apparently not anymore. Which fucking sucks.
I want a new body, a new brain, a brand new canvas. A do-over because I keep fucking up and sabotaging myself and I'm tired.
I need to sleep, to finally fix my sleeping schedule, yet here I am, now 2:32am.
I want to hit my head against a wall and stay unconscious for a few hours. Even if my worries won't leave me even while I sleep.
I need strength to finally deal with something I've been avoiding for way too long which keeps getting worse and worse because of my postponing. Because I'm terrified.
I need to scream and punch a wall because I'm frustrated with my life and myself (even though I know I'm privileged and count my blessings). What if I break a bone or two in the process? I'll live. Sadly, I'll live.
I want too much, don't I?
Shit.
Have I wasted more time? Probably so.
2:48am.
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