Dibujo de Andrés Buosi Escobar, mi sobrino.
Ahora que el presente año está a punto de entregar la corona, cual Miss Venezuela cursi ahogada en lágrimas de nostalgia, se impone el ejercicio de la retrospección sobre lo vivido en éstos casi 365 days.
try to decide for two or three formidable events which have marked the Renaissance stage now experience. And I'm tempted to promote on my list to those who showed me the way I think back to what had always been, or what had been there, and temporarily lost sight of. Perhaps the job that threw me back to the street, the public kiss that reminded me of the sweet taste of the unexpected, or long and relaxed journey through the most enlightened city in the world, reconciled me with strangers.
But I think a little better and I suddenly realize that it is not. My happiness has not lately been preceded by any fanfare. Has been more of a whisper, a song very softly which has served as a prelude to greater things. That life made me the slightest sign before me out of the foreign place where they had gone. Surely not, but sometimes I feel it was as sudden as if he had beaten three times on the heels of my shoes and the Wizard of Oz I had returned home, mercifully.
Then, the best of 2010 there was nothing concrete, but the sum of everything. It was discovered some tricks that I had been avoiding for a long time, and that true strength lies in the simple things that should be approached with great humility. And the other thing is to have re-learned to be happy, even from somebody else.
still make many errors and ego betrays me almost daily, into the center of the circle when I met and the benefits of staying in the modest suburbs. But hey, I'm not the Dalai Lama is not it?. One is who he is, and if it persists, a little better than that.
As I write these lines ringing in my new, super powerful Ipod the melodious voice of Michael Bublé and I decide something: Unless George Clooney falls in love with me in the remaining 21 days a year, perhaps the best thing 2010 will be having listened to Bublé singing live. That's how basic it.
Then, the best of 2010 there was nothing concrete, but the sum of everything. It was discovered some tricks that I had been avoiding for a long time, and that true strength lies in the simple things that should be approached with great humility. And the other thing is to have re-learned to be happy, even from somebody else.
still make many errors and ego betrays me almost daily, into the center of the circle when I met and the benefits of staying in the modest suburbs. But hey, I'm not the Dalai Lama is not it?. One is who he is, and if it persists, a little better than that.
As I write these lines ringing in my new, super powerful Ipod the melodious voice of Michael Bublé and I decide something: Unless George Clooney falls in love with me in the remaining 21 days a year, perhaps the best thing 2010 will be having listened to Bublé singing live. That's how basic it.
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