Monday, October 29, 2007
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Carlota, una mujer como pocas.
Carlota, siempre estuvo ahí en las buenas. Sí, de esas mujeres que pretenden saberlo todo, pero que en verdad, no saben nada. Poco le importaban las apariencias y tenía la capacidad de ver más allá de una mirada. Era de esas intelectuales que se llenan la boca hablando de libros y de autores, pero que en verdad, nunca comprendía el significado entre sus letras.
Se enmascaraba de ser perfecta, pero por dentro ella misma sabía que no lo era. Yo bien estaba al tanto que no lo era, porque yo sí conocí a la verdadera Carlota. Yo viví con la verdadera Carlota. No era fácil. Era muy buena en las buenas, pero pésima en las malas. Conocía el verdadero significado de una sonrisa, y la eterna agonía detrás de una tristeza.
La última vez que vi a Carlota, recuerdo bien, era el segundo del primero del año. El reloj marcaba apenas las 3 de la mañana, aún por venir. Se volteó, y me pregunté si era realmente ella. La persona que yo vi, estaba totalmente invadida de soledad y en su mirada se veía un mar de profundas tristezas adueñadas del olvido.
La vi, mientras la luz se enredaba entre sus cabellos, y me veía con esa mirada tan penetrante y adueñada de tristezas, que me pegó como un fuerte grito de auxilio al oído. Así, al menos por un instante, fui sintiendo su desconsuelo. Sus ojos, hechos agua, derramaban una lágrima que poco a poco se iba resbalando sobre sus mejillas. Una lágrima que proyectaba su miserable angustia y su tan desesperante ahogo.
Carlota ya no hablaba. ¿Hablar? ¿Para qué? Carlota ya no tenía nada que decir. Su vida se había convertido en una constante búsqueda de algún significado más allá de lo ordinario, ya fuese de amor, felicidad o vida; quizás de cualquier otra cosa que la alejara fuera de ese camino al abandono de si misma.
La verdad es que Carlota añoraba en su vida todo aquello sobre lo que constantemente leía dentro de sus novelas de ficción. Pero Carlota poco sabía lo irreal que era esa vida sin ninguna acción.
¿Vivía? Si, vivía, pero sólo en una eterna agonía de sufrimientos y de soledad. Se inyectaba la tristeza, mientras ésta iba dejando la marca en su piel. Marcas que la mortificaban, recordándole a cada momento sus constantes tormentos.
Muchas fueron las veces que traté de ayudarla, pero Carlota, Carlota me abandonó. Me dejó en consecuencia de las malas lenguas y de las malas juntas. Me dejó pocas cosas, entre ellas un pero, un ¿por qué? Y por supuesto, la promesa de no volverla a ver nunca más. Lamenté eso, pero nunca me rendí. Nunca dejé de ayudarla, de llamarla, de quererla, en fin, de buscarla.
La conocía, la conocía bastante bien. Sabía lo que pensaba poco antes de hablar. Se dejaba llevar por las influencias, pero también se hacía pensar. Sentía nuestro afecto de amigas, de hermanas, de compañeras que se ayudaban pero que además, nunca se debían dejar olvidar. Carlota rompió nuestro pacto, pues con el tiempo se alejó de mí y no dejó rastro. Me dolió, me dolió su ausencia, su engaño, su tristeza, su abandono, pero más aún su indiferencia.
Se me pasa la vida recordándola, pensándola, extrañándola. Aún me duelen los minutos sin ella.
Carlota se distanció para sumergirse en su soledad. Para hundirse en su tristeza y olvidarse de los demás. Ella simplemente dejó de buscar. Se consumió entre sus malos vicios y también dejo de pensar, de sentir, de querer y de amar.
Carlota, Carlota ya no tenía nada ni nadie en quien pensar.
Aún la recuerdo en cada instante en que no está. La vida sin ella pasó a ser algo ordinario, dentro de lo normal. La siento en cada espacio y en cada cuerpo que veo en mí andar. Más aún la quiero y la buscaré por siempre, porque siento que la vida sin ella……. la vida sin ella ya no tiene nada que dar.
Y así, Carlota se fue de este mundo, para no volver nunca más.
Ana Cristina Sosa M.
Friday, October 26, 2007
El Faro
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
El Diario de Marcos, Día 28.
Ciao!
MS.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Tonto Corazón
Tonto corazón, no me digas que te hirió,
no me cuentes otra historia de amor,
si lo sabíamos los dos.
Tonto corazón, no te dejes destruir,
el acuerdo fue guardar la razón,
tienes que entenderlo, es mejor dejarlo así.
Tonto corazón, no te empeñes en sufrir,
no es un juego de ganar o perder,
es un juego de sentir, sólo un juego de sentir.
Benny Ibarra. Tonto Corazón.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
El Tiempo
Tiempo. ¿Para qué vivimos de él? Imagina como seria la vida si no dependiéramos del tiempo. Tiempo para levantarnos. Tiempo para asistir al colegio. Tiempo para estudiar. Tiempo para descansar. Tiempo para crear e imaginar. ¿Cómo sería? Viviríamos todos los instantes más eternos y lentos. Pero, ¿por qué lentos? ¿Si no hay tiempo? Aún sabiendo que el tiempo es algo abstracto, una construcción humana para poder tener una noción de lo que pasó, lo que está pasando y que va pasar (pasado-presente-futuro) se me hace muy difícil imaginarme lo que el tiempo puede ser. Más difícil aun se me hace imaginarme como viviríamos sin él.
El sueño de muchas personas es que existiera una máquina que pudiera atrasar el tiempo. De esta manera poder arreglar aquellos errores que cometieron en el pasado. Mi opinión es que no debemos preocuparnos por lo que ya paso, deberíamos en ves, gastar esa energía en preocuparnos por el presente que además sabiamente determinará el futuro.
Ana Cristina Sosa
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
El Diario de Marcos. Día 27.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Queriendo sin querer
El Diario de Marcos. Día 26.
¡Váyalo!
MS
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Let's Sing It - Aquello que me diste (Alejandro Sanz)
Inmensas Tempestades, Tu Mano Y La Mía.
Tienes Algo... No Sé Que Es.
Hay Tanto De Melódico En Tu Fantasía...
Y Un Toque De Misterio, Mi Límite.
Conservo Algún Recuerdo Que No Debería,
Lo Sé, ¿qué Puedo Hacer?
A Todos No Ocurre: La Monotonía
Nos Gana La Batalla Alguna Vez.
Alguna Vez, Alguna Vez, Alguna Vez....
Por Eso, Vida Mía, Por El Día A Día,
Por Enseñarme A Ver El Cielo Más Azul,
Por Ser Mi Compañero Y Darme Tu Energía;
No Cabe En Una Vida Mi Gratitud
Por Aguantar Mis Malos Ratos Y Manías,
Por Conservar Secretos En Ningún Baúl,
Quiero Ser Por Una Vez, Capaz De Ganar Y De Perder.
Perdona Si Me Ves Perder La Compostura.
En Serio, Te Agradezco Que Hayas Sido Mío.
Si Ves Que Mi Canción Acaso No Resulta,
Avísame Y Recojo La Melancolía..., Melancolía.
Te Dejaré Una Ilusión,
Envuelta En Una Promesa De Eterna Pasión;
Una Esperanza Pintada En Un Mar De Cartón;
Un Mundo Nuevo Que Sigue Donde Un Día Lo Pusiste.
Tú Eres Ese HoMbre
Por Quien Me Siento Esa Mujer Capaz De Querer,
Viviendo Cada Segundo La Primera Vez,
Sabiendo Que Me Quisiste
Y Todo Aquello Que Me Diste.
Conserva Mi Recuerdo De Piratería.
Derrama Los Secretos: Abre Aquel Baúl.
Sigamos Siendo Cómplices En Compañía,
De Aquello Que Me Diste Bajo El Cielo Azul.
Por Aguantar Mis Malos Ratos Y Manías,
Por Conservar Secretos Que Me Guardas Tú..
Quiero Ser Por Una Vez, Capaz De Ganar Y De Perder.
Perdón Si Alguna Vez Guardé La Compostura.
No Sabes Lo Que Ha Sido Que Hayas Sido Mío.
Comprendo Que Agotaste Toda Tu Dulzura,
Pero No Me Pidas, Niña,
La Melancolía..., Melancolía.
Te Dejaré Una Ilusión, Envuelta En Una Promesa De Eterna Pasión; Una Esperanza Pintada En Un Mar De Cartón; Un Mundo Nuevo Que Sigue Donde Un Día Lo Pusiste.
Tú Eres Esa Hombre
Por Quien Me Siento Esa MuJer Capaz De Querer,
Vivo Cada Segundo La Primera Vez,
Sabiendo Que Me Quisiste
Y Todo Aquello Que Me Diste.
... Un Mundo Nuevo Que Sigue Donde Un Día Lo Pusiste.
Tú Eres Ese Hombre
Por Quien Me Siento Esa Mujer Capaz De Querer,
Vivo Cada Segundo La Primera Vez,
Sabiendo Que Me Quisiste
Y Todo Aquello Que Me Diste.
El Diario de Marcos. Día 25.
Sin el protocolo de un buen bofetón, sin el argumento de un pecado ilustre.
O el presentimiento de una anomalía que
amerite el caso.
Sin decirme nada,
sin decir por qué, sin una coartada o una explicación,
sin una mentira escrita en un papel,
sin las cursilerias típicas del caso,
sin decirme nada, sin decir por qué.. se fue. " Ricardo Arjona - Se Fue.
te escribiré la próxima desde Naussau.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Excellent Speech: Steve Jobs @ Stanford University Graduation
I am honored to be with you today at your commencement from one of the finest universities in the world. I never graduated from college. Truth be told, this is the closest I've ever gotten to a college graduation. Today I want to tell you three stories from my life. That's it. No big deal. Just three stories.
The first story is about connecting the dots.
I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6 months, but then stayed around as a drop-in for another 18 months or so before I really quit. So why did I drop out?
It started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed college graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, so everything was all set for me to be adopted at birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that when I popped out they decided at the last minute that they really wanted a girl. So my parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call in the middle of the night asking: "We have an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?" They said: "Of course." My biological mother later found out that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would someday go to college.
And 17 years later I did go to college. But I naively chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-class parents' savings were being spent on my college tuition. After six months, I couldn't see the value in it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and no idea how college was going to help me figure it out. And here I was spending all of the money my parents had saved their entire life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn't interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting.
It wasn't all romantic. I didn't have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends' rooms, I returned coke bottles for the 5¢ deposits to buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on. Let me give you one example:
Reed College at that time offered perhaps the best calligraphy instruction in the country. Throughout the campus every poster, every label on every drawer, was beautifully hand calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and didn't have to take the normal classes, I decided to take a calligraphy class to learn how to do this. I learned about serif and san serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can't capture, and I found it fascinating.
None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But ten years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, its likely that no personal computer would have them. If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backwards ten years later.
Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.
My second story is about love and loss.
I was lucky — I found what I loved to do early in life. Woz and I started Apple in my parents garage when I was 20. We worked hard, and in 10 years Apple had grown from just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion company with over 4000 employees. We had just released our finest creation — the Macintosh — a year earlier, and I had just turned 30. And then I got fired. How can you get fired from a company you started? Well, as Apple grew we hired someone who I thought was very talented to run the company with me, and for the first year or so things went well. But then our visions of the future began to diverge and eventually we had a falling out. When we did, our Board of Directors sided with him. So at 30 I was out. And very publicly out. What had been the focus of my entire adult life was gone, and it was devastating.
I really didn't know what to do for a few months. I felt that I had let the previous generation of entrepreneurs down - that I had dropped the baton as it was being passed to me. I met with David Packard and Bob Noyce and tried to apologize for screwing up so badly. I was a very public failure, and I even thought about running away from the valley. But something slowly began to dawn on me — I still loved what I did. The turn of events at Apple had not changed that one bit. I had been rejected, but I was still in love. And so I decided to start over.
I didn't see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life.
During the next five years, I started a company named NeXT, another company named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. Pixar went on to create the worlds first computer animated feature film, Toy Story, and is now the most successful animation studio in the world. In a remarkable turn of events, Apple bought NeXT, I returned to Apple, and the technology we developed at NeXT is at the heart of Apple's current renaissance. And Laurene and I have a wonderful family together.
I'm pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn't been fired from Apple. It was awful tasting medicine, but I guess the patient needed it. Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don't lose faith. I'm convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You've got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don't settle.
My third story is about death.
When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: "If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right." It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.
Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.
About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn't even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor's code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you'd have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.
I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I'm fine now.
This was the closest I've been to facing death, and I hope its the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:
No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.
Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.
When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960's, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors, and polaroid cameras. It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: it was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions.
Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: "Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish." It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.
Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.
Thank you all very much.
Monday, October 1, 2007
El Diario de Marcos. Día 24.
Quote - Unquote III
In this desperate moment you must choose your direction.
Will you fight to stay on the path while others tell you who you are?
Or will you label yourself?
Will you be honored by your choice?
Or will you embrace your new path?
Each morning you choose to move forward
or
to simply give up.
Lucas Scott