Una en inglés... HOPE

Hope. What is it? Is it anything else than being irrational? Think about it, even when we know how things will turn out, we go on and dare to hope that they might turn out to be different. We defy logic, we defy reason, we defy nature. Hope is the illusion of a miracle. We hope for the best, but we expect the worse… most of the time.

Hope is a strange phenomenon, a characteristic shared by human beings. Is it more similar to a disease? Or is it an extraordinary trait? Hope can be the source of many amazing achievements, while it can also be the source of our worst pains, our saddest tears, of our most bitter moments.

But why? Why spend time thinking that something concrete may actually be different? That something bad could actually turn good? That something we thought was lost may just return somehow? Is it to fill our lives, to find a meaning? Or is it just pointless?

Hope is painful. Broken dreams may hurt more than broken bones, and there's really no medicine for that. I don't get why I hold on to hope so much, it's not like I haven't been let down before; by others, by myself... But we just don't learn to stop, no matter how hard it is, we insist on holding on to this illogical feeling. I want to find the point of such detriment, the reason for why we even dare to wish upon a star.

Por la lateral

¿Qué es "Por la lateral"?

La vida es la avenida principal, lo que pasa, lo que vivimos a diario. Estés o no estés, va a seguir moviendose, te guste o no. No podemos controlar muchas de las cosas que pasan en esa avenida, y a veces la congestión y el estrés nos llevan al extremo de lo que soportamos. Necesitamos, de repente, un respiro. Irnos por la lateral. Cada cabeza es un mundo que viaja paralelamente a la realidad, y "Por la lateral" no es nada más que la catarsis de ese mundo interno, las ideas de esta loca realidad.