La absurdicia de la maldita finitud
—It tasted like nothing you’ve ever tasted. Imagine all the flavours of the ocean flowing through the most exquisite texture in your mouth, evolving in a whirpool of colors and music. It is the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted—I said, remembering my happy old times.
—So, what happened to it?—they asked, eyes wide open.
—We never knew whether that’d be the last time we would ever eat it. And we fished them to extinction. Nobody will ever be able to see them again.
¿Ir al mundo real? ¿Qué hacer? No me apetece estar en París, pero tengo sueldo hasta Febrero sin apenas responsabilidades. Si luego quiero un post-doc, debería ponerme las pilas, acabar la tesis *ya* e intentar publicar algo con alguien de aquí. Si quiero irme al mundo real, empezar a mandar CVs y conseguir entrevistas lo antes posible. Bu! Mundo complicado.
Initiation Song from the Finders Lodge by Ursula K LeGuin
Please bring strange things.
Please come bringing new things.
Let very old things come into your hands.
Let what you do not know come into your eyes.
Let desert sand harden your feet.
Let the arch of your feet be your mountains.
Let the paths of your fingertips be your maps
and the ways you go be the lines on your palms.
Let there be deep snow in your inbreathing
and your outbreath be the shining of ice.
May your mouth contain the shapes of strange words.
May you smell food cooking you have not eaten.
May the spring of a foreign river be your navel.
May your soul be at home where there are no houses.
Walk carefully, well loved one,
walk mindfully, well loved one,
walk fearlessly, well loved one.
Return with us, return to us,
be always coming home.
So this time I came back to that place… some sort of reservoir hidden between two mountains along which two parallel highways run, with occasional little roads going from one side to the other. In this case one of them had even some kind of village or bigger place where we could stay and play some board game, that it, until the rain became too much.
Of course, I couldn’t say whether I was actually there in a different dream or just "in the dream I had been there before." I do remember a similar highway, but much bigger and complex, from (possibly) another dream a long time ago…
Again, I was in High School in the US. Somehow I managed to go back, but it looked more like the University in Bielefeld… And then there was the public showers in the park :-?
I believe that banking institutions are more dangerous to our liberties than standing armies. If the American people ever allow private banks to control the issue of their currency, first by inflation, then by deflation, the banks and corporations that will grow up around will deprive the people of all property until their children wake-up homeless on the continent their fathers conquered. The issuing power should be taken from the banks and restored to the people, to whom it properly belongs.
– Thomas Jefferson (1743 – 1826)
3rd president of the US
Letter to the Secretary of the Treasury Albert Gallatin (1802)
So it seems that several variable names were changed on the script and the templates weren’t aware of it… oh well, it’s solved :)
So, after a year or so after forgetting about this blog I found out that one of the last nanoblogger updates broke the templates and now the sidebar is empty and lonely… I’d fix it, but I’m hoping to switch to another engine soon… :-)
The train arrived at Bielefeld Hbf., this was my first time in five years, since I had never been back since my Erasmus came to an end.
I was happy and excited to see the Uni, which in this version of Bielefeld was near the train station—an arrangement vagely familiar, perhaps from another dream about Bielefeld. I came in and met some of the people I had been with during that year. We were talking and things would be happening around us. I asked about people, they told me about people…
And then I woke up, and the dream with its vivid colors waned leaving just reality—and I felt very sad at first that I was in Madrid and not in Bielefeld, wishing I had never left…
As I write this the dream is fading away as every dream does as soon as I come back to awakeness. I’m not sad or mad that I’m not in Bielefeld, but the truth is, I haven’t been there since the Erasmus came to an end…