Love is a many splendored thing, all you need is love.

“I suppose the heart knows something that we just don’t know. Love can be inconvenient, and perhaps inappropriate. It can be dangerous. Make us do things we wouldn’t dream of doing. But wrong? That just depends on where we end up, doesn’t it?” 

I love noone but love... love is still like oxygen. 

La lluvia borra la maldad y lava todas las heridas de tu alma

I am bummed about life... I am doubting everything I've ever done... And everything I do ... and everything I am.... and everything I stand for. I am feeling pretty worthless. I'm not doing good with school. I am really frustrated about it. And I'm trying to tough it out but it seems pointless. And I hate myself for wanting to give up. I hate myself for having given up years ago when I did. I hate myself for not having the guts to leave when I should have. And I hate that I still make up excuses for why things don't go my way when I know I could simply change them. I don't know what to do. I know what I'm doing wrong and I know how I can change them but I can't bring myself to actually do it. I am really ashamed of myself. I am disappointed in myself. Maybe I am the one with the deluded sense of grandeur. Maybe I am think I am bigger than I really am. Maybe I am made to be just a petty employee with 5 people ahead of me always. Maybe school isn't for me. I wish I was someone else. I wish I was who I think I should be. 

Panic attacks and excitement.

I had another dream about being back at home. I like to think that's a good sign. It means I've accepted it. At least the back of my mind has accepted it.
A part of me still panics from time to time. The other night I wanted to cry as I thought about leaving everything behind.
This is the right thing to do, though. I know it. Even if *I* don't know it my mind knows it.

Feeling springy.

YAAAAA LLEGO LA PRIMAVERAAAAAAAAAAA!

Oh. Wait. It's fall. My, my, aren't we getting ahead of ourselves? Maybe it's because my mind is all twisted. A part of my feels like I'm already living on Argentina time already. Then again... I also really, really love fall. This morning was chilly and it. was. awesome. Maybe that's why I'm in such a good mood.
Even though I have 5 huge pimples on my face. Even though the scale said I gained 2 pounds this morning. Even though I just had to pony up $100 for the electric bill (Wtf, I'm supposed to be saving money!) I'm feeling fantastic! I can do anything.
4 months. 4 months. 4 months. Yaaaayyyy!

The sounds of childhood/life.

Maria Elena Walsh.
Dad laughing like Gargamel while he put us to sleep with the same old stories about the Smurfs "Oooodio esos pituuuufos"
Fireworks at Christmas time.
Laughter at the dinner table. Every night.
The train or subte on the days I got to go to work with dad.
Mom talking to Little Bro in English.
The ring of the timbre in between class and recess, recess and class.
The songs from Chiquititas "Chufa chufa CHA!"
The crackle of the fire during winter.

That's what my childhood sounded like. They were beautiful sounds. It's hard to distinguish between the sounds of living in Buenos Aires, and the sounds of my infancy. Maybe they are the same. How much living did I do, though, in 12 years of childhood? Have I ever lived in Buenos Aires? I haven't, have I?
In 6 months time I intend to hear new sounds. The sounds of childhood will be sounds of living. Some may be the same sounds... but they won't be quite the same.

Listen to your heart.

I am a painfully logical person. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I make the right choices all the time. To be frank, I make mistakes more often than anyone I know. I over think things and overwhelm myself. I don't go with what feels right but with what makes sense in a completely impartial way. I don't worry about how things make me feel. I strictly base my actions on what looks good on paper. Don't you know it... that way of living has caused me more grief than happiness.
Now, I'm letting my heart make the decision. November makes my head happy. It feels more real. It's soon, therefore it's less overwhelming (because I don't have to wait, which my brain hates.) February is far away, and it feels like a fantasy. I lose another summer. I don't get a firework-laden Christmas. I have to work my crappy job for another 6 months. For some reason, though, my heart doesn't seem to know this. In my heart, the later date feels good. It gives me the comfort of time and order. I can do things more slowly. I can plan things better. I get to make a list and check things off.
November was all wrong. I didn't plan for it. It wasn't a "me" sort of decision.
My head thinks November is better, and it keeps trying to argue, but the warmth in my heart talks louder, and makes my mind's arguments more feeble by the second.
It still sucks. Both options have their cons. It seems like the cons of waiting are far too superficial to really matter, though.
6 months and counting. Things will be ok.

Speaking of tears...

I got stung by a bee this morning for the first time ever. It wasn't like one those "OMG POPPED MY BEE STING CHERRY <3" Nah, man, nah... It was more of "OHMYFREAKINGGOSHWHAT THEFRICKWASTHAT" and then I removed the stinger and death stomped that bee in the face!
Anyway... it's funny because just 3 months ago I woke up one morning, got ready for work and stepped outside to take Spazzpup to the bathroom. As I stood there groggily basking in the morning sun I heard a soft buzz. I looked up at the tree/bush/plant with flowers in front of me and saw it moving, even though there was no breeze. Looking closely I realized that at 7:30AM there they were: bees, dutifully working away with a sense of purpose. At that moment, I felt envious. I thought: I wish my life had purpose. That was the week of the decision.
Last night there were tears. The stress hit me. The realization that this move is going to cost a lot of money: Money I don't have. I freaked. I cried. I thought, "How am I going to do this?" Should I wait? Is November not plausible? Cue massive panic attack and a string of incoherent curse words.
Then this morning as I walked Spazzpup I let the fear wash over me as my mind reeled. I made a mental list of everything I need. I made a mental list of all I want. I thought of how I could make it happen by November. Then I got stung.
I stopped. I got the stinger out. I called my mom to see what I should do. Once I got that taken care of, I wondered: Is this a sign? Is this the universe telling me something?
That bee had a purpose but in a moment of irrational thought it stung me and died. If I leave in November, am I losing my stinger? Am I getting ahead of myself?
Then there's the other side: Am I making excuses? Am I letting fear lead my life again?
There's such a long list of pro's and con's on both sides. I need to make a decision.
What the hell are you saying, Universe???