August 8th 2016, on a flight from Doha to Madrid
Infinite. Infinite. End of cycle. Or not.
Listening to Julio Iglesias – To all the girls I’ve loved before on the way to Madrid.
Pampered in the best way by my colleagues, impressed by the little things someone can do for you when they care and want, making you the most special person in the world.
Thinking of La Lupe – Teatro song I listened at Vizcaya in Miami.
Thinking of him, of weakness I hide so well and the pain and baggage I come with from the past. Of stiffness, of lack of communication, of extreme care in a relationship for the other. These don’t really seem to match up, right?
So many times I’ve said people love their unhappiness and never thought of it from a different angle.
That people are Afraid of Happiness. Afraid with capital letter of happiness with capital letter.
As I write this I think about me walking with T. in Montreal, soaking up the sun and chasing nothing. Wanting nothing, expecting nothing, just sharing a passing friendship. Would it be possible to be as detached in our daily life and just enjoy it more? Let go of grief.
Oh, expectations. Did they ruin me?
Unattachment – Microsoft Word does not even recognize this word. Have I understood it too late? Have I not understood it? Love without expectations – can I do that?
Instinct is my angel. Or angels carry my instinct.
11s. I’m again in the 11 phase. 17:14 on someone’s watch showing 17 on top and 14 underbeath. 11 and 11. Gate A11. The most genuine in-flight treatment in my life.
Where are my lessons? Where is my control. What happened? Have I stopped believing?
Caruso playing. I have been listening to it obsessively for a while.
Album no. 56 33.
One of Monet’s 17 waterlillies on a screen on the right. The painting in MoMa, where we were together exactly one year ago. Life is amazing. Life is good and kind, it just depends which side you choose to see.
My mind cannot stop running.
My way in Spanish by Julio. Damn it, this is how I want to live. Free. Yet, although I said I cut and threw my chains, I either got them back or created other ones. Or am I just a fool and never gave them up, but covered them with strong wings and managed to fly against gravity?
Later that day
The clouds flying underneath us.
Hey…by Julio Iglesias: Hey! Tu que sabes de amor…?
Love is not what it seems. Life is not what it is. I’m thinking as I’m looking at my right wrist as I pull my eyebrows gently. I would like to zoom in and zoom out on feelings, reactions, patterns like I do with my camera lens.
August 10th 2016, Madrid, Spain, one day before I turn 26
Finally in the AirEuropa aircraft flying to Cuba. To celebrate my birthday after midnight! ❤
On Telva magazine, on a black and white page showing the face of a woman, right under her eyes, I write 25 things I’ve done 11 August 2015-11 August 2016. More exactly during the past 25 years.
Dreaming of cigars, rum, Old Havana, the amazing rooftop with view to El Capitolio where we’re going to stay, the beaches in Coco Cayo where Hemingway would find his inspiration. God, let me find mine.