Sunset, Sunrise

On a dimming, dull afternoon, the sun
Makes its way through tall, grey-green trees,
Setting slow and soft, with no rush;
Night then soaks through the atmosphere,

And the world becomes black, silver and blue
of unlit earth, mother moon, and the stars;
The crickets chirp for hours on end,
Until the moon starts to descend,

And amidst the buzzing hubbub of bees,
Of flittering flies and low circling leaves,
Long yellow rays of travelling light
Shoot down the dark with fearless might,

Through drops of dew lying on resting plants,
Waking ripples of water in a pond,
And setting a black sky ablaze
'To violet, red and orange haze.


I've spent the previous hour or so writing this, to destress and avoid thinking that tomorrow I start college. I'm so nervous, and definitely starting off on the wrong foot, because I forgot to attend the first two classes of catalan (come on, they were before classes officially start, they caught me by surprise/ I would not have attended the first one had I known, because I had a big exam) and very possibly this could mean that I no longer have a spot reserved in said class.
This in turn means that, since at least half my classes are in catalan, and I do not speak it well (or at all, for that matter, I just sort of understand it), I could find myself completely lost for the first trimester or so.
I'm hoping I can sort this out tomorrow and attend catalan that very afternoon.
Also, I'm really excited for starting, but scared shitless at the same time. My reasons are:
1- CATALAN
2- Well, that is it. There's also the fact that I'm going to be lost in a sea of people who do not know my name, and will be forced to step out of my shell and start talking to strangers so I can make friends. But I will have friends in time, and I'm hoping that, since everyone's in the same situation, they'll talk to me first, haha.
I'm really looking forward to meeting new people of different backgrounds. Also, the campus is by the beach, which is such an amazing thing. Smoking is prohibited, which I find strange because all the other unis have the teachers smoking with the students. However, I don't mind it at all, though the first thing you stumbled upon when entering the UPF site was this big scary sign warning you about smoking on uni turf.
It's strange, everybody else has already started, and I'm the last to go. Just give me my blindfold and a cigarette, and set me against the wall already. Haha. But I'm as ready as I'll ever be.
It's taken me a long time to actually think about this but there are aspects of school I will miss.
Well, first of all, I finally have to face I'm not a kid anymore (yep, I realised I'm an adult a year too late), and that I'm getting old and withering and soon I shall die. Hahha well, I do want to grow old. And you can die anytime, anywhere, it's all just a matter of chance.
Then there's the speaking in English. I'll miss just chatting in English with whoever in the hallways-- now it's only Catalan, and Spanish if I'm lucky. Plus, walking around the city with English-speaking friends made me feel really cool / slightly douchey at times haha. But being able to pull out the cellphone and call some foreigner to impress a pretty girl on the metro was a great ace up my sleeve. I guess I can still get away with this, on occasions.

Ah, another scary thought that lurks in the depths of my mind is this one: if, by a stroke of luck, I get invited out this weekend (it's a catalan holiday, we have friday off and everybody goes out all night that night), I have to decline, because I'll be in Madrid. This means a prossible loss of said friendship, because I'll look like someone who tends not to accept proposals to go out (which might sort of be true haha) which means that any friendships I make this week will be null and void next week, which then means that I will have to omit this week from friendship-building and will have to start, from scratch, next week.
Though I doubt I'll have friends for some time. I hope I meet someone magical, with whom I just click, and everything is energetic and electric. Like in On the Road.
Had not had one of these rants in a long time. Feels strange to write in English (but I guess it is good practice, since I won't be doing so in class anymore), but it feels good to say anything I want on this page. I'm like a girl with a diary, ha. (or, like Don Draper with a diary, ha haa.)
I hope all goes well tomorrow. If it doesn't, I at least hope it's a big, whacky, embarassing anecdote that I can laugh at this upcoming afternoon.
Oh, and I hope catalan classes work out... (I pray)

Amichai : My People Are Alive

by Felipe Alvarez de Toledo

When we were young, cicadas buzzing in a nearby tree,
We'd go out to play at early dawn, just you and me,
Frolic between blades of grass, swaying, greys and silvery hues,
Until the sun rose, turning the world into orange-red glass,
And the stars set softly into the earth behind us, blue.

At dusk one night, they took you away. Who would I have, to play in the fields?
Years later, under the sweltering sun, (Zzzzz -- piercing my eardrums)
They found you, among others, in an earthy pit. Brought you home in a car,
And I watched you return to the soil (Still, there you are).

I remember the long-ago fun, when I was a child;
But who'd want to play in the fields, knowing the secrets of the ground?
I once loved my old thoughts in this vast landscape,
But cicadas beat my feelings into a haze;
Corpses line our memories, pillaged and raped.

The Sea at Night

The Sun's crawled down, under the Sea,
And night creatures come into sight,
Creeping out from behind rocks and stones,
Taking time to cool their bones
--Now that harsh heat's turned cold night.

Let's take a swim, jump into the Sea,
With its freckles of reflections of Stars,
Where white waves break the hint of a Moon
Into silvery, satin scars.
Let's go for a swim, so, so far,

'Cause the Sun will come very soon,
And we don't have much time to dive in,
Under a blanket of sad, gloomy night,
Now, while the lighting's still dim,
Now, while the timing's still right.

Black and white shadows move in and out,
Up and about a movie screen,
Celuloid dreams of stories past
Of rebels and gentlemen and beauty queens.

Images of stars project from the grave;
You dance, you laugh for us again and again,
You tell us your stories, and we all want to know--
We listen so quietly, admiring the picture show.

The scenes we observe,
It's strange to think,
Happened once, maybe 50 years ago,
Were played a million times more,
Watched by children and housewives and men sipping drinks
And trannies and grannies all over the globe.

And yet the seasons change, things disappear
Everyday people and things we hold dear
Vanish, colours fading,
Our memories will fail us,
Then we shall die too,
Others will forget us;

But then we see you,
From at least 50 years ago,
Your youth withers so slow, so slow
You've all grown old- or died-

But again and again we repeat, rewind
You're all so young and talented, in our minds,
But it's not only the acting,
It's that amazing feat you've managed:

Time is unkind, but I think you've done well,
Avoiding what I think is Hell.
Forever and ever, we'll all see
You and love you, your memory.

Though we all disappear
Sooner or later, now or in years,
You've clasped on to existence,
Reaching out for eternity.

In years to come, when society's moved on,
With robots and rockets and people on the moon,
Somebody will look back and remember you,
Observing how people lived, such a long time ago...

And a feeling will spark, a bond with all of us,
The anonymous.
We watched you too.

Lens focus, a close-up of your face
Expressions so slight and full of grace.
The lights are bright, we watch tonight
A black-and-white motion-picture, tribute to the human race.

You might as well jump!

From Here to Eternity

A: I never knew it could be like this! Nobody ever kissed me the way you do.

B: Nobody?

A: No, nobody.

B: Not even one? Out of all the men you've been kissed by?

A: [giggling] Now that'd take some figuring. How many men do you think there've been?

B: I wouldn't know. Can't you give me a rough estimate?

A: Not without an adding machine. Do you have the adding machine with you?

B: I forgot to bring it.

I will be sitting in church,
Between saintly statues and pews,
And thoughts will prowl in my head,
Getting closer, closer to you.

You can do nothing to stop them,
But succumb to my every whim;
I'll let all my passions run free
While we both hum along to hymns.

I'll let all my secrets run wild
And nobody will ever know
That in the church I once smiled,
Thinking of fictional sins.