tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34816892304996666492024-03-20T00:35:42.521-07:00The C ListThe Accounts of a Salvadorian Non-MaidCarla Vilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14412438595247365352noreply@blogger.comBlogger22125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3481689230499666649.post-19343617002108049272013-12-10T01:06:00.001-08:002014-04-01T12:58:12.702-07:00Mama Gloria, cuéntenos un cuento<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">“Yo lo que sabia era de las vacas…” </span></span><br />
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<span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386661062941_16564" lang="ES-TRAD"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">En una tarde cálida y llena de curiosidad espontánea. Acostadas alrededor de la abuela, sus nietas escuchan y anticipan una amigable intimidad con ella. La abuelita procede a relatar su nacimiento.</span></span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386661062941_16570" lang="ES-TRAD"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"Mi Mama salió en la mañana y fue a lavar un gran canasto de ropa sucia al río. Cuando regreso a la casa estaba tan cansada de lavar la ropa que se acostó a dormir. Dice que unos gritos de bebé la despertaron y que cuando vino a sentir tenía ya la cabeza de su niño en medio de sus piernas. Inmediatamente la vino a asistir su madre. Ella le corto el cordón umbilical y no sé con que se lo corto y si estaba esterilizado porque en ese entonces no habían doctores que asistieran a las madres para tener sus criaturas. Eran las mismas de la casa las que asistían. Luego, la abuela del bebé hirvió agua y rodeó al bebe con botellas de agua tibia para guardarle calor. Así nací, fijate."</span></span></div>
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<span lang="ES-TRAD"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Son sus anécdotas y dichos como "Chancleta vieja que boto no la vuelvo a recoger," que despiertan nuestro corazón al recordarle.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span lang="ES-TRAD">S</span>u folclor...</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">La manera tan consagrada en que comía su pollo: hasta el ultimo huesito!</span></div>
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<span lang="ES-TRAD"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Su sensibilidad, su humor, su lucidez.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="ES-TRAD"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Y su dedicación espiritual hacia sus seres queridos.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="ES-TRAD"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Abuelita, cuanto te extrañaremos.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="ES-TRAD"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Tus nietos, tus hijos, tus amigos. Tu familia terrenal.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="ES-TRAD"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Allí donde ha dejado una herida tu partida, allí mismo entrará tu luz. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="ES-TRAD"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Y rodeada de luz estas.</span></span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386661062941_16580" lang="ES-TRAD"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Te vemos hermosa, feliz y plena.</span></span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386661062941_16577" lang="ES-TRAD"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">En un lugar maravilloso donde descansarás tras una vida larga, dura y colorida.</span></span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_13_0_ym1_1_1386661062941_16583" lang="ES-TRAD"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Te amamos Mama Gloria.</span></span></div>
Carla Vilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14412438595247365352noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3481689230499666649.post-85089457051779790582013-02-05T17:59:00.000-08:002014-04-01T12:54:44.425-07:00A Valentine Gram For Little D<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">Bubbly, bubbly fun,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">You sweet tart with a bit of tang.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">So vibrantly amusing</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">With your social graces.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">All joyous treats,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">For those of us</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">Charmed enough to have you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">How sweeter is my spirit</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">To have been birthed your kin.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">Delightful and caring,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;">Oh lovely Daniela.</span>Carla Vilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14412438595247365352noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3481689230499666649.post-4874875774185000772013-01-24T22:02:00.001-08:002014-04-01T12:53:26.715-07:00Goodbye Luna<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1359093654230_2074">
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<span class="yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_81"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">If only I could accord the world today with my radiance. </span></span><br />
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<span class="yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_81"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">That I might be useful to it, but the darkness of the night dims my serene maturity and reduces it to solitude.</span></span><br />
<span class="yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_81"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_81"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I already miss thee heavily.</span></span><br />
<span class="yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_81"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_81"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">The new year had barely made an appearance with its northern crisp and </span><span style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">usual </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">unwarranted airs</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> of good fortune.</span></span><br />
<span class="yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_81"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"></span><span style="background-color: #ffffbf;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">We were candidly amused by this winter's splendor, seeking refuge in feasts indoors.</span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_81"><span style="background-color: #ffffbf;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">The toasty fireplace, the warm chocolate,</span></span><span style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> the soft beignets.</span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_81"><span style="background-color: #ffffbf;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I accept praise for the exquisiteness of my culinary endeavors that make you grin. </span></span>This more than satisfies me.<br />
<span class="yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_87"><span class="yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_88"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">It had been a mere two weeks since the weight of the world had turned your posture concave into a human shell. </span></span></span><br />
Hard. <br />
<span class="yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_87"><span class="yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_88"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">No other conviction reigned your intelligence but the good old 'woe is me' with a hint of fatality.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /><br />That afternoon, while the clergyman's memorial echoed in the back drop, you broke down before me with a ghastly sense of defeat, yet still and steadily picketed your way through my defenselessness with a big, fat sign of a game bird.</span></span><br />
<span class="yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_87"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span><span class="yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_89"><span class="yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_90"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Emptiness has punched itself into my stomach.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /><br />Having but released a single breath from a beautifully arduous attempt to resuscitate you from your perceived unredeemed existence, you take mine.</span></span><br />
<span class="yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_89"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span>My efforts perfectly exhausted.<br />
I was redundantly, involuntarily exiled from your kingdom.<br />
<span class="yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_91"><span class="yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_92"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Many moons we harvested together, but today there was no place for a hopeful maiden.</span></span></span><br />
<span class="yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_91"><span class="yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_92"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span></span><span class="yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_93"><span class="yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_94"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">And now I too am morose.</span></span></div>
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<span class="yiv1758186128yui_3_7_2_17_1380164475482_93 yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_96"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span class="yiv1758186128yui_3_7_2_17_1380164475482_93 yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_98"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I weep for the nights past and pray for our separate beatitude.</span></span><br />
<span class="yiv1758186128yui_3_7_2_17_1380164475482_93 yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_98"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">That we might catch up to it. </span></span></div>
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<span class="yiv1758186128yui_3_7_2_17_1380164475482_93 yui_3_7_2_17_1359092150333_104" style="font-family: garamond, 'new york', times, serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Goodbye Luna.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif;"> </span></span></div>
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Carla Vilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14412438595247365352noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3481689230499666649.post-27104745004609428192013-01-24T21:18:00.000-08:002013-01-24T21:55:24.582-08:00My blank page,I abandoned you.<br />
I had no self to offer you though, as I couldn't even reel myself in.<br />
I was consumed.<br />
Too busy filling a void with an illusion.<br />
Nurturing a fantasy that had a bitter end.<br />
Denial can feel eternal.<br />
This self awareness only breeds from pain and the wise words of a soul mate if you are humble enough to listen.<br />
Stubbornness has its tipping point.<br />
I am finally here.Carla Vilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14412438595247365352noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3481689230499666649.post-18796213488361351102011-03-17T16:12:00.000-07:002013-01-24T22:21:57.143-08:00For Japan, With Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://www.forjapanwithlove.com/"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAqW4jBMmPVwlOp6zsLQl-jzk2BrWMCtaDikQXTin2H8ztsHlZ3iVEIk-bsIZjnWvVS4WdpgKSs3eOZ2bPSz1mfVIz286ndiEBMgXaprZNO8Y9lFsRavN_DZ6fJGZyEvJU1vFtG0_x2yY3/s640/forjapanwithlove%252Bbanner.gif" width="352" /></a></div>
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I am participating in <b>The Bloggers Day of Silence</b>, an event created by Lydia of <a href="http://www.ever-ours.com/">Ever Ours</a> and Lucia of <a href="http://www.utterlyengaged.com/">Utterly Engaged</a> to help support the online fundraiser for the tsunami disaster in Japan. <span class="apple-style-span">All the donations to <a href="http://www.forjapanwithlove.com/">For Japan, With Love</a> will go to <a href="http://shelterbox.org/">ShelterBox</a>,<a href="http://shelterbox.org/"></a> </span>an organization that will provide disaster relief tents for families as well as blankets, water storage and water purification equipment, cooking utensils, a stove, a tool kit, a children's activity pack and other necessary and vital items.<br />
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Please join us in this show of support and help spread the love. Every donation counts and will make a difference. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"></span>Let's all do what we can.</div>
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~xoxo</div>
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Carla Vilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14412438595247365352noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3481689230499666649.post-20135449281037073582011-03-01T21:58:00.000-08:002013-12-10T11:25:56.459-08:00The North Wind<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">Photo by PB</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">Angel flakes,</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">Pillows and throws,</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;"><i>Chocolat </i></span></span>à<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;"><i> l'ancienne</i>, butterflies in my hair,</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">Cashmere dreams,</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia,'Times New Roman',serif; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;">Tulle ruffles grazing the warm wooden floor.</span></span></div>
Carla Vilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14412438595247365352noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3481689230499666649.post-90350636130767041742011-02-23T16:39:00.000-08:002011-02-23T17:10:12.441-08:00Scatterbrain<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
Like waiting for Godot or Judgment Day,</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Pointless.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The thrill of the moment and the apparent sense of forever,</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Overexposed.<br />
Unwavering hyperactivity of nothingness,</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Meaningless more often than not.<br />
If only there was intent... but, even that would get old soon,<br />
Just the fleeting satisfaction that it brings temporarily.<br />
<br />
No, not mere pessimism just bumming around,</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Laying about,</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Sparingly.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Looking for boundaries perhaps,<br />
Longing to be contained in a model that is unequivocal, ratified,<br />
But what composes such matter?<br />
Does it take a master to distinguish it? Identify it?<br />
<br />
Oh teach me this language you speak of,<br />
I do not know it.<br />
I am foreign and it resists me,<br />
Eternally doomed in the <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1298504972_0">fear of the unknown.</span><br />
How does one come to dread oneself to this extent?</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">This space?<br />
Some say it could be considered a game,<br />
More so than joy it is Chinese torture.</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Chews up all self assurance steadily with angst,</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Creeps up on you too.<br />
<br />
A mirror is simply not enough.<br />
A sense of becoming that which we are not comes to mind,<br />
So that the essence that births the form dissolves any false ideas,<br />
All illusions.<br />
<br />
If only you'd just give in, scatterbrain,<br />
Once everyday, just once everyday.<br />
The lightness which expels you may just show its face.<br />
Let it introduce itself to you,</div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">It just may. </div>Carla Vilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14412438595247365352noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3481689230499666649.post-56640880550554606192011-02-01T14:28:00.000-08:002011-02-23T16:47:51.803-08:00Well, I Have Lost YouWell, I have lost you, and lost you fairly,<br />
In my own way and with my full consent.<br />
Say what you will, kings in a tumbrel rarely<br />
Went to their deaths more proud than this one went.<br />
Some nights of apprehension and hot weeping, <br />
I will confess, but that's permitted me.<br />
Day dried my eyes; I was not one for keeping<br />
Rubbed in a cage a wing that would be free.<br />
If I had loved you less or played you slyly,<br />
I might have held you for a summer more.<br />
But at the cost of words I value highly,<br />
And no such summer as the one before.<br />
If I should outlive this anguish, and men do,<br />
I shall have only good to say of you.<br />
<br />
<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>~ Edna St. Vincent Millay</i></div>Carla Vilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14412438595247365352noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3481689230499666649.post-56418486617299938722010-12-31T13:08:00.001-08:002010-12-31T13:08:56.760-08:00Where did November go?Carla Vilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14412438595247365352noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3481689230499666649.post-58894207873867100442010-10-13T15:38:00.000-07:002011-02-08T18:07:56.205-08:00The Apology<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
<i>Slim,</i></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i> I felt like crap. I slept most of the day. Completely out of it. I'm sorry you stood at the door knocking and no one letting you in out of the wicked heat. Wicked. It is 111° today! Good weather for having a fridge on the blink. It works on the weekend because I am there to bang and start it up. I wonder if I have to toss out more milk products today when I get home. Life is grand.</i></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i> I only wish I hadn't torn to shreds that picture I drew for you. Of us. I know that's why you cruised by. To bring it scotched back together for me. Can 57 pieces of Bristol, a portrait of our quotidian make? </i><br />
<i> No need for forgiveness. You have me, caro mio. Every wretched little bit of me. </i></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i> I wanted to cook you a meal tonight, but it seems like the warm front may have spoiled most of my edibles. Besides, we could both use some gelato tonight. </i></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i> Just come in through the side gate when you're done with work. I had Guiliano come over and fix it, finally. His daughter is doing much better, he says. Poor girl. Lucky she has such a hard working father to love and look after her. I don't know what I'd do in her place.</i></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>I'll be waiting for you,</i></div><div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>M.</i></div>Carla Vilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14412438595247365352noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3481689230499666649.post-89843693265453353712010-10-01T17:29:00.000-07:002010-10-01T18:18:30.644-07:00September September was my month. My month to take a really big, fat break from the facts of existence. I lay my head on the whimsical airs that permeate the hot density of the fleeting, yet arresting Summer. And while this ethereal persona deconstructs itself into a vanishing act, I push through with my lethargic attempt to join the falling of the leaves. To make naked. To bare myself from that which keeps me safe and sometimes guarded. After all, I am body. So, I stripped myself pure. It was not intentional, I swear. The cry of a baby is never a manipulative form of destruction, but rather an awakening into a life unknown where one hopes one may be love. And that I am. Love. If anything, it is quiet a thrill to relish in cumulative events of self realization. "<i style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">... And you got moxie</i>!" he clamored. He steers me in, I admit. Closer to my secret place.<br />
Inadvertently, the change we oftentimes fear, we seldom rely on. I have decided I shall rely on Fall. I believe I have shed significant ego thus far. And so, I am perfectly attired to become a beggar child of the Redwood forest. That mustard-seed-size faith they profess is contained in my side denim pocket. I'm blindly enthusiastic, you see. An unshelled experience awaits us ahead. It's only a short drive north. I flourish in anticipation.Carla Vilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14412438595247365352noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3481689230499666649.post-86083431537269758752010-08-30T15:09:00.000-07:002010-08-30T16:20:23.647-07:00Trill<u>Definition:</u><br />
<i style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">1. to sing or play with a vibratory or quavering effect.<br />
2. to resound vibrantly, or with a rapid succession of sounds, as the voice, song, or laughter.<br />
3. to utter or make a sound or succession of sounds resembling such singing, as a bird, frog, grasshopper, or person laughing.</i><br />
<br />
<u>Usage:</u><br />
<i style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Thou shall not trill...</i><br />
-when one is fussy at ages 17, 26, 34 or 42<br />
-during mass.<br />
-in bad company.<br />
-while lamenting over a teensy-weensy reason.. or for no good reason at all.<br />
-when leaving behind an obsolete, ineffective version of one's self.<br />
-naked in the wilderness.<br />
<br />
<i style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">When to trill...</i><br />
-when one is fussy from months 1-8<br />
-while speaking Spanish.<br />
-over the loss of someone meaningful like a family member or an old time friend... never an ex-lover.<br />
-when resembling a puma in an effort to seem like a good, playful parent during playtime.<br />
-to seduce a jerk.<br />
-to mock Edith Piaf.<br />
-in extreme boredom...<br />
and before yawning.Carla Vilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14412438595247365352noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3481689230499666649.post-31349279572514130222010-08-17T14:48:00.000-07:002010-08-18T13:46:10.689-07:00Curly Chubby CherubsLuscious golden locks bouncing all about and bellies jiggling, <br />
Up the canyon they went hastily, hand in hand, excited and adventurous.<br />
The sky-sea is vast and dark, fully lit, 18 karat luminescence.<br />
With their jaws suspended in awe of such a sight,<br />
They became two little naked shooting stars.<br />
Jubilant by the gift of a wish: one for you and one for me,<br />
They crinkled their eyes to add might to a liquid dream,<br />
And their shyness overcome by a little boy and girl embrace.<br />
With chuckles and giggles of nervous laughter,<br />
This instant admired by the silver quality of innocence,<br />
Authentic and real as their souls.<br />
For one should cast one's pearls before swine;<br />
The process of knowing one's value before taking it to the pros.<br />
Two Curly Chubby Cherubs who recognize this art.Carla Vilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14412438595247365352noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3481689230499666649.post-74701150731027250712010-08-17T13:25:00.000-07:002010-08-17T14:12:29.855-07:00A drag or twoA smoker's permission to breathe,<br />
Old Hollywood style.<br />
To have a companion when in need of one,<br />
A distraction, <br />
Or be comfortably alone at the café.<br />
To cheat a friend out of their undivided attention,<br />
And delight in an exclusive occupation.<br />
To have something to live for,<br />
Or to make one's prime a foe.<br />
<br />
Burning cash.<br />
Easily, anxiously.<br />
And a bitter kiss.<br />
<br />
<i>For Nicky </i>Carla Vilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14412438595247365352noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3481689230499666649.post-47369017774599891132010-07-13T15:16:00.001-07:002010-08-19T14:33:52.159-07:00The FireflyYou, enchanting firefly. Utterly and perfectly entangled in the scintillating cobweb you have come about. Perversely indulgent. You can't move, you can't do a damn thing! One inch forwards, sideways, backwards signifies binding yourself furthermore into this harness you've masterfully, though unwillingly engineered. Nice armor. Hat and glove sizes fully considered. If only for your crafty, selfish ways and not your boundless naivety. Well, I hope you simmer in it! Simmer in the juices that your exhaustion immerses you in. Luxuriate furiously in the empty pleasure.<br />
Fester, fester, rot, rot.<br />
I am a true believer. An intrigued passerby and my heart shines timidly. Though I am warned by trepidation, your enticing luminous appearance hastily draws me in... blindly, magically. Soon this habitat in which you reside comfortably numb in brings a sense of familiarity to me that I am only able to find in a Lynchean dream sequence. Free fall. Slowly, I acquaint myself with the inability to hold onto my wisdom, a branch, something! The euphoria has overcome me. It paralyzes me; overwhelms me. A victim of my own wishful thinking. Oh clumsiness, oh frailty. I have no options. No choice, but to... burn, burn, burn! I burn my wings, so that I may hum my way out of the wicked charm that you momentarily possessed over me, enticing firefly. The combustion scars my optimism ever so briefly only to find myself suspended upon the grasp of thin air. In levity. Then fall flat on my face, on the abrasiveness of the hot asphalt.<br />
Wait... I am awake again. I am alive. I am new. Thank you oh so beautiful firefly for reminding me that I have two valiant feet to walk away.Carla Vilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14412438595247365352noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3481689230499666649.post-32938416901990399622010-06-22T15:49:00.000-07:002010-06-22T19:46:54.245-07:00The faintest light<div style="text-align: justify;">Be wary of these walls foolish girl, for you might bump into them.</div>These walls will prevail here in this place, but you shall have to find your own.<br />
Let us turn on that faint light, as to hear the whisper of their echoes.<br />
For even lavish radiance can be blinding.<br />
Prepare my flesh for the bruises which will not be avoided.<br />
Allow me to be foolish.<br />
Allow me to be restless. <br />
I have yet to learn from these love shattering events.<br />
For in the darkest hour, fright is at its peak.<br />
Let us turn on that faint light, so we can see within our reach.Carla Vilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14412438595247365352noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3481689230499666649.post-62460890893022461292010-06-14T19:01:00.000-07:002010-06-15T01:47:09.281-07:00Grita el corazón<div style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">A veces no tenemos otra opción más que escuchar al corazón... </div><br />
Que la vida es loca,<br />
Sin pensar algunas cosas,<br />
Que tan fácil te equivocas.<br />
Pero cuantos, quienes, comos?<br />
Sospechando sin <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1276567240_0">cesar</span>,<br />
Mi cabeza, aplasta el domo.<br />
Este si, este no,<br />
Por aquí, y lejos no,<br />
Me dices si y quiero yo?<br />
Como buenos gemelos rivales,<br />
Que pelean su verdad,<br />
Tan semejantes en sus males!<br />
<br />
No hay evidencia de firmeza,<br />
Hoy, esta no saldrá a jugar,<br />
Y la culpable es la pereza.<br />
De la iglesia a laborar,<br />
En el camino hacia la casa,<br />
Quisiera parar y dejar de llamar,<br />
Ese extraño sentimiento,<br />
Escondido en la verdad,<br />
Que tanto añoro y bien lamento.<br />
"Amor, <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1276567240_1" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(54, 99, 136); border-bottom-style: dotted; border-bottom-width: 2px; cursor: pointer;">estoy aquí</span>!"<br />
Grita <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1276567240_2" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(54, 99, 136); border-bottom-style: dotted; border-bottom-width: 2px; cursor: pointer;">el corazón</span>,<br />
"Pero primero te escucho a ti."Carla Vilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14412438595247365352noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3481689230499666649.post-58357398570719419002010-05-25T00:21:00.001-07:002013-02-12T15:36:46.888-08:00Carlita means little Carla<div style="margin: 0px;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipP4TuWY6dX2ej6ijCysG_BLWYgYo_ovGJUzYWd9k_K3P47MMxJKqLKWaNP8Qa3xvxKq6f7zy1N2i6zi2F3ikps2fVAuGASoHgdsxTSgndCp6G_W5N0cUslqyaPK0IFEGFwTurmVlnkLs9/s1600/app_full_proxy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipP4TuWY6dX2ej6ijCysG_BLWYgYo_ovGJUzYWd9k_K3P47MMxJKqLKWaNP8Qa3xvxKq6f7zy1N2i6zi2F3ikps2fVAuGASoHgdsxTSgndCp6G_W5N0cUslqyaPK0IFEGFwTurmVlnkLs9/s200/app_full_proxy.jpg" width="160" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 16px;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls." </span></i>Pablo Picasso </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; line-height: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> She was five years old and there she sat holding the tight hand of her mother, </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Blanquita</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> (little Blanca) on a long, ten-hour bus ride that departed at twelve o'clock, 'pumpkin time'. Off they went to the north end of the </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">pistolita</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> (little gun), because that's what <b>Florida</b> looked like to her. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">What could possibly have possessed Mum to yearn for this authentically
novel life full of the highly rumored encouragements for opportunity?</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> "Let's go back to </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Mama Gloria</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">'s." She wisely advised her mother, as the dark hour kept swallowing the inseparable duo into its undefinable depth. Clearly, this adventure into the crepuscular unknown was unmistakably a very, very bad idea. All </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Carlita</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> had packed in her suitcase was her daily routine which she had keenly perfected at </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Grandma</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">'s: first, ditching the pre-kindergarten attire upon stepping foot onto the cold tile of the house's entryway; then, a quick lunch or sometimes an even longer lunch if forced to eat </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">pacaya</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> - a very bitter and cynical vegetable; - later, a couple of hours of the old lady's </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">te</span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">lenovelas;</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> some coloring frenzy; scattered chapters of Machiavellian teasing of </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Uncle Carlitos</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> (little Charles) - a blessed, little chap with down syndrome - and finally, the anticipation of </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Mom</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">'s return home from her second job at the University, so that she could complete some extraneous playtime. Most of the time though, while too-tired-to-play </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Mom</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> rested her eyes, </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">little Carla</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> would content herself by puppeteering<b> Mom</b>'s index and middle fingers into two miniature businessmen with mustaches who intended to open an apothecary in the more upscale neighborhood.</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #333333; line-height: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> But by then, their home seemed a million light years away standing old and decrepit on a grassy hill of </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">San Salvador</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">'s soil and hopefully illuminated by a vigilant Spanish moon. This memory and her 360 color crayons was all she carried with her. How could she possibly be prepared for this absolute uncertainty of a place?</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 16px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Blanquita</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> looked down at her infant and pulled her as close to her bosom, as anyone can enter another being's soul. Fighting her quiver, she attempted to comfort the child until an uncontainable strength within her materialized itself into a phrase: "Where ever you go, there you shall be." She continued, "... and there I will be with you."</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">.................</span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This woman was the most stoic form of determination I have ever known in my life. I am blessed she was my mother. Lucky me. That day she put in my suitcase the handiest tool of all.</span></span></span></div>
Carla Vilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14412438595247365352noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3481689230499666649.post-56849568310885337822010-05-22T01:39:00.000-07:002010-05-22T03:39:42.597-07:00BlissI have a burden. It's in my heart. It will not let me breathe. It makes my head swell and my eyes drip. I feel crushed by the air. It's heavy. I must love it for I allow it. I must dive in it and be thankful for it. It is my lover. It demands my attention. It wants my peace, my time, my effort. My throat is clenched. I long to be heard. It is imperative that I be loved or I will not survive. I want to float into the heavens and be featherweight happy. Bliss. It's called bliss.Carla Vilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14412438595247365352noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3481689230499666649.post-42413013835097082292010-05-21T23:15:00.000-07:002010-05-24T03:34:59.395-07:00The blue sheepThe hues of my real life soft spoken-ness bring out the bold in these posts... so do you.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>It feels yummy in my mommy's belly,</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>I do not want to come out and play.</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>What is this game you've invented anyway?</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>"Simon says walk this way."</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Don't care much for 'ol Simon,</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Didn't either yesterday.</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>My legs are awkward, my talk is funny,</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>You're better off without me honey.</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>The world's gone mad,</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>And I'm not glad.</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>The school's a gag,</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Brainwashin' a drag.</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>My religion? You want that too?</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>You'll find my "hello my name is" tag</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Up ol' Simon's wazoo.</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>This blue sheep has gone astray,</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Did not RSVP to the main flock's part-ay.</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>No dire cause, no serious dismay,</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Not my herd, not this state of play.</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>I guess it's okay.</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>It's better this way. </i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">I nuzzle my flaws, my reservations, my dark side... and that huge zit on my chin. I'm so happy I'm different.</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">I'm so grateful I'm me.</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">I'm so grateful I'm me. </span></span></span>Carla Vilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14412438595247365352noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3481689230499666649.post-91433360573255497812010-05-18T11:48:00.000-07:002010-07-18T00:09:03.135-07:00Something to write aboutThe page I first wrote a sonnet on is now turning yellow. It was an assignment for English Lit when I was a Senior in High School. The muse of my poem was a boy with whom I was irrevocably smitten. He didn't know I existed until the inelegance of puberty had matured enough to morph my body into an exquisite, little fairy at age 17. He, of course, then noticed. We kissed and fell into first love's grasp.<br />
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Because the teacher questioned the authenticity of the sonnet, she gave me an A-. I deserved an A+.<br />
Bitch.<br />
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<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Sonnet</span></i></b><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The look upon those eyes of dearest care</span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">which melts the heart in tears of disbelief,</span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">have stricken me to fall in madmen's dare</span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">for you have filled my soul with mellow grief.</span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The treasure of this truth kept unrevealed</span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">has left you much uncertain of your will</span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">confessing hymns will keep and force lips sealed</span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">with nothing else to feel, but fear to kill.</span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The reason of this silence, sound of youth</span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">disquiet rules the noble hearts of fools,</span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">with love so strong and painful as to soothe</span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">the lives of two when distance of truth rules.</span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> How further will this jewel keep unrevealed?</span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> When two of hearts in silence have been healed.</span></i><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><br />
</i></span>Carla Vilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14412438595247365352noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3481689230499666649.post-10892001203584106882010-05-17T21:57:00.000-07:002013-02-05T16:04:02.433-08:00First thing on the listHere i am. Welcome. I have scratched the itch to write.<br />
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With a little push from my kid sister and some inspiration from Julie Powell's blogging adventure, here i am plastering these walls with words, where thoughts, dreams, hopes, fears and passions belong .</div>
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We will soon be introduced properly, but first thing on the list: the purpose of this blog. It is the bastard child of loneliness and depression and God bless it! (Seriously, I live in L.A.) Arising from internal forces 'tis <b>The C List</b>, i.e. how I shunned from falling into the abyss of insanity. The creative calling was not to be ignored. I welcome it and you and will try not to sound too narcissistic or self-absorbed. Already, this is a great start.<br />
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A warning: English is not my first language. I'll fancy the enchantment upon unveiling a new word for its poetic charm or handy practicality, but I will sometimes write in Spanish.</div>
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This is exciting. Let the thickening of the skin begin. I'm not sure how much longer I can continue to be an 'eternal optimist'. Please put me out of my misery. </div>
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Carla Vilahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14412438595247365352noreply@blogger.com1