I'm twenty five years old as of today. I live in Guatemala City, where I was born and which is the only place I've ever lived, yet there's something about my and this place where I don't think we love each other as much as we should. My native tongue is Spanish, but for some weird reason, I'd rather write in English... It seems so much easier; I think it may have something to do with having spent the last fifteen years reading mostly in English. Anyway, pardon the eventual clumsy language.
I feel like an outsider (and this is just exposition) because, half the time, people have no clue what I'm talking about, and this extends to most of my closest friends. I don't think I'm exceptionally smart nor exceptionally cultured, I just take different sources than most people surrounding me. I quote from Heathers all the time, but I don't know any one who has seen it; apparently neither Winona Rider nor Shannen Doherty are as well appreciated as I'd like.
I just quit my job. I hated it. And not having a job hasn't brought me down the way I expected, something I'm totally adding to the "you're a grown-up now" column. I'm this guy most people get eventually sick of who prides himself in his job, talks about it a lot and whines constantly. I've figured that since that is not changing any time soon, I might as well find some fascinating job so people will obligue my bitching about it. I'm currently accepting offers and ideas.
I just got my heart broken, and what hurts the most is that it doesn't hurt as much as I wish it did. I'm terribly afraid of there not being a love story for me anywhere. I want the fireworks, the clumsy first kiss, the sweaty hands, the flowers and the serenade. I want to be fought for.
I'm very afraid of not living up to my own expectations.
I will get over that.
Soon.
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