Ce que je dis, ce que tu ne vas jamais écouter

What happened, then? Why did we say goodbye? Why did we think we hated each other? A thousand stories won’t make up for the damage I never thought I did. I must have hurt you. You must have been sad. I walked out on you, and I couldn’t care less. However, you have no memories of the pain you caused. You think it’s all my fault.

Don’t you know hearts never look away when love is steadfast?

If you ask me, I was never sure. Maybe my conscious self did not know it, but that part of me which led me to follow that mysterious stranger… that part knew I hesitated. That part knew this was more of an obsession than it had been love.

I guess I’m sorry. But stop looking all tough! We’ll never clean our minds from this black resentment if you run away, screaming there’s no way back— that’s the last thing I need to know! I’m well aware that I can’t step back into your arms, that there’s no way in hell I’m stepping back… I just feel I never had a chance to let go of my rage. You don’t remember anything but your own pain.

You never knew. You may never know. You don’t want to know. And as far as I’m concerned, I may as well leave you with the uncertainty.

After all, it was I who stepped away so blatantly, right?


As time makes its way through my soul, as it corrodes my veins swiftly —like nitric acid and water —I realize how incredibly ignorant I am, how much I have yet to see, to hear, to experience. I’ve been so silly to think I’m smart, talented, ugly…! None of those things count, none of that is relevant. What I am is represented by my actions, by my feelings…

I have never become something: I already am someone.

My rants on something as useless as how my knowledge might surpass other people’s, how my ugliness might affect my life on this dirty planet, how I might have become pretty (I hate it when people say “you’ve changed so much…!”)… all those things are commonplace. All I should worry about is how to keep on going on this wild highway they usually call Life.

Athens 2004

As some people know, I’m definitely not into sports. I yawn at the sole thought of watching soccer, or tennis, or basketball. I run away from F1. I’d rather do homework than watch sports.


There’s a certain time of the year when my attitude changes radically.

Oh yeah, it’s time for the Olympics! It’s time for me to watch tennis, soccer, basketball, ping-pong, swimming, gymnastics, weightlifting, bicycle races, etc, etc, etc… I go for any country, I don’t care! As long as I see the competition, I’m happy! I love seeing people from all over the world, I love their happy faces when they win… I love everything about the Olympic Games!!!

By the way, Colombia won a bronze medal! We’re not going back from Athens empty-handed! Yay!

Well, I guess I should go back to my homework. If I don’t sleep tonight, I will unleash a storm of procrastination for the rest of the semester. I will not let that happen!


Good times. Who would’ve thought…

How can love be more important than one’s own life— so much, that one would be willing to terminate it if love were gone?

There was so much to live for, Saroj, so much… Yet you made your decision, and there’s no Undo button for it.

And to all of you whom I know: please, remain strong. Nothing justifies such a loss.