Dust of My life

I’m not a journalist; i never like it to be a journalist. When I was a child and I played house I pictured myself working in an office and dealing with papers, lots of papers. Right now I deal with papers but digital, lol

I am not a journalist but I’m surrounded by them, I work in a newspaper, Say Hi to the translator. My work is translating from L1 to L2 (Spanish- English) and as involved with the journalistic work I decided to have a web too, why not?? I know that I don’t have the journalistic tools to write but I think I’m pretty good at writing. I am not a high nose person, but I realize it every time I check my blog and I see how many persons have read it.

Never Ever JUDGE A PERSON, without knowing it right, u might get surprised of what someone who seems to be insignificant for you can do. U are not Superman, the guy who can do and knows everything, being older than me doesn´t mean u are an expert in a subject, though. We are surrounded of nerds.

Although I’m young I have my inner feelings about writing and I want to share a poem I wrote for a Shakespeare Literary Contest on April 23^rd, 2002, which I was the winner of the 1^st Prize

“Dust of My Life”

I had in my heart

A passion thorn.

One day I got to root it up

And now, I  can´t feel my heart

I lost my illusion.

At odds with luck, destiny conquering

Thousand times I get out of line.

I found my way.

I return today to make you offering of

My gloomy songs, bed of my death, black wine,

Even though I know you don´t exist anymore.

I´m charging between flowers day and wind,

Invertebrate silence of solitude.

Receiving lunar brilliance,

Making burst of darkness

Feeling in my heart a cautious

Whisper in a pure murmur,

That disinters your body light.

I don´t accept light like legacy;

I accept the defy to edify myself slowly.

 I don´t admit the coming clemency

I renounce to love you. Imagine

That I forget you, but don´t imagine till,

Because:

I´m yield to find the Dust of my Light

And the Dust that I will be Tomorrow.