<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735</id><updated>2011-10-03T09:48:11.707-07:00</updated><category term='invierno'/><category term='uwc workshop'/><category term='idea para infografico'/><category term='poesía'/><category term='Design'/><category term='guatemala'/><category term='donde mi papá'/><category term='Infographic'/><category term='Visual Resistance'/><category term='lluvia'/><category term='change the world'/><title type='text'>Lost In Wonderland</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>110</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-7830489906647032813</id><published>2011-07-10T13:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-10T13:37:13.758-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Every ending had a beginning</title><content type='html'>I've been talking to a lot of people about my next phase. The summer program came and left, with sweet and sour instances stuck into my cheeks and my bones. Now, tonight, is my last night in here, in MUWCI, el pais de las maravillas, en mi casa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I think I just ran out of energy to keep trying to make plans. &amp;nbsp;I think I will just let it hit me like a bullet in the back, and deal with the consequences. Midnight has come, it has come and left with all of its magic and wonder, that time in which things seemed to be eternal but they weren't quite so, and that made them more beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My future has a name, a place and many nationalities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I take from this place... friends. Lessons. Inspiration. Ideas. Confidence. Problems. Questions. Languages. Songs. Paintings. Food. Clothes. Rocks. 50+ kgs of luggage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find it funny when I see a picture of myself from two years back and people don't believe it's me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am scared, I think, because home does not seem to be the break that it should be, particularly with the politics of prejudice and bending backwards involved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;COA... I think I might have rushed into it a bit too fast to see what I was doing exactly, and now that I have time to look at the clear picture, well, it begins to show other colors. But then again, how many of my coyears didn't do so as well?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grades gave me that sense of achievement, of feeling that I actually CAN achieve the things I want to if I work hard for it, it's a simple and complicated as that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like what Ritu said the other day about ghosts, I think I've seen many of them around lately, saying goodbyes and hellos (particularly in front of the med center).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear Hill, I will see you in some years, we will both probably have changed, but I hope you know how much I loved living here and how much it changed me. I hope you continue to change your wardrobe and by doing so you are able to give shelter and things to think about to more teenagers who want to save the world. Thank you for taking me with such a cozy embrace all throughout my time here. Much love, Khristian&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...and for the future, well, we'll see how it all goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See you all (if any readers left) in another blog, in another place and another space. Thank you for adding an audience to this experiment. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-7830489906647032813?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/7830489906647032813/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/07/every-ending-had-beginning.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/7830489906647032813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/7830489906647032813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/07/every-ending-had-beginning.html' title='Every ending had a beginning'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-7614727706676800135</id><published>2011-06-20T00:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-20T00:21:39.895-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Varuna and Asi</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;This is the name of the two rivers that meet at Varanasi, Benares, Banaras, or whatever. A lot of it seemed like concentrated India. I think it's by far the most intense city I've been to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Picture this stage.&lt;br /&gt;Street: No asphalt, hot, dust and dirt, people from the shops from both sides of it throwing water so that the wind won't raise the dust from the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People: Yelling, with clothes from all colors, a kid with a cobra begging - almost demanding - money, a pack of tanarickshaw-wallahs offering to take you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heat: 41 daggers penetrating your skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shiva dances his dance of change and destruction, in an endless choreography over the streets of this town. Everyone moves along the roads, without crashing, bumping only to show this is the most that can go wrong in this show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Manikarnika Ghat, corpses being eating away by a yellow and red beast, only to leave their bones, which will go back into the Mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-7614727706676800135?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/7614727706676800135/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/06/varuna-and-asi.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/7614727706676800135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/7614727706676800135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/06/varuna-and-asi.html' title='Varuna and Asi'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-2469043716264077284</id><published>2011-06-13T08:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T08:54:17.213-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Y asi va el mes.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;I'm writing in a better mood now, the cities and the things we've seen have lifted my mood quite a bit, and this entry I write is a month away before my flight leaves to go back home, leaving India behind for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Calcutta was fantastic, the people were nice, and I think it's one of the few cities in the world where I would move later in my life. It has a metro, but also tana rickshaws (rickshaws pulled by men on bikes), autorickshaws, buses, taxis, even one of those train like things that cross the streets (tranvia en español), so it has quite a diversity of ways of getting around. We met people that went out of their way (like elsewhere in India) but in a really generous way to help us. The food was fantastic, the Bengoli thali is so gooood, and it kept reminding me of Guate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought some Tagore books, and we went to the Victoria Memorial. It's impressive to see how power can be dangerous, and how India, as I read in another website, instead of changing its own culture to adapt with the times of the world, absorbs bits and pieces of other cultures. The history of the British Raj inside the European-looking memorial for a Queen who died 30 years before it was done was quite a good read, and I could learn about the development of the intellectual Bengali Renaissance, which shapes many forms of modern Calcutta and India. I've delightfully read Tagore's short stories, along with Amitav Ghosh's &lt;i&gt;Sea of Poppies&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;on the trip, and that I think also added to how much I've enjoyed my time at Calcuta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hotel where we were staying was quite interesting, small, dingy rooms were covered with writings and drawings in many languages and scripts, from people as far as 10 years ago I think, writing about life, ecumenism, peace, fairies, "I OHM YOU" and things like that. I left a message for any Guatemalan that crosses that room 22 on the rooftop. The weather was a lot more bearable than in Bhubaneshwar, so that also helped. ANDDDD I had the best chicken rolls I've eaten in India, at the A1 Roll Corner between Sudder and Lindsay street, just ask around there and you'll find it if you ever go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we set on a bus for 15 hours to go to Darjeeling, "the queen of hill stations" in the same state. After the bus we got a shared jeep to climb up over 1000 kms of height, arriving at a delightful and comforting 20 degrees of temperature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There, our only problem was to find a room, because it's high season and a lot of Bengolis and other Indians where there for holidays with their families. We bought tea, walked around, stayed at an a-mazing Hotel called Aliment, ran by a Tibetan man and a woman (not sure if they're related). The room where we stayed was mint green, and had wooden insides, with those cliché cabin lodge windows overlooking the hill station (and, on a morning after a rainy night, also the Kanchendzonga, the third highest mountain in the world, with its Himalayan sisters).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also had momos, and went to a Buddhist Gompa, and a Tibetan Self-help Centre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we came to Varanasi, which is like concentrated India. I love it and I hate it at the same time, "hardcore India" like Yaara said once, I think I would add Hindu to the phrase. I shall leave Benares for the next entry I think, extracted from my notebook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beyond the trip descriptions, I've been feeling well, just very hot, but I've enjoyed the trip a lot. It's today a month before I reach home!! I can't believe my time has gone so fast, but a month seems like a good time to have left before going back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been trying to get a tun/steel trunk to use for my luggage, maybe I'll paint a HORN OK PLEASE on top of it if I get it. Any ideas for that?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-2469043716264077284?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/2469043716264077284/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/06/y-asi-va-el-mes.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/2469043716264077284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/2469043716264077284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/06/y-asi-va-el-mes.html' title='Y asi va el mes.'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-5943531660314938777</id><published>2011-05-31T02:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-31T02:40:31.727-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BhuBhuBhuBhu</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;We are in the state of Orissa, in eastern India. Drenched by the heat and sweat, these past 4 days have been hell, almost literally, and Bombay was more or less the same. It's been more than a week since we graduated, and a day more than that since we left MUWCI. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gradually our band of 15+&amp;nbsp; muwci students was dismantled. First one, then three, then six, then one, then another one, and the remaining three separated. Now it's just me and Maite.&amp;nbsp; I didn't get to say bye to Becky. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Victoria left last night, and Rickie is leaving today, though I won't be able to speak to him until he's in Costa Rica. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The heat has been, as I said, horrible, and Bhubaneshwar has had some interesting things to offer, but not many. I think it would've been way different if I had come with Ritu. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight we go to Calcutta, we should be there by tomorrow morning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am getting a bit tired of being here, after two years. But I am still enjoying myself, for today, 31st May 2011. I have 6 weeks left in India, for a while. I think it will be time to close the blog soon. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-5943531660314938777?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/5943531660314938777/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/05/bhubhubhubhu.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/5943531660314938777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/5943531660314938777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/05/bhubhubhubhu.html' title='BhuBhuBhuBhu'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-2434147752561293437</id><published>2011-05-20T20:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-20T20:55:05.244-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gradually</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;The trees are swaying with the wind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning it's all silent, it's all sad, it's everyone sleeping or busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our graduation rehearsal is at noon. Our Graduation ceremony is at 2. The dinner at 7 and the dessert at 8. And that's IT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Graduation, gradually. That's how we are flirting with the idea of leaving, gradually, first not thinking about it. Then slowly embracing the pace of the days as our exams are getting over, and over. Then starting to put things down the walls, and then packing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow we go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-size: 24px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;div style="display: inline !important;"&gt;Thus grew the tale of Wonderland:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;div style="display: inline !important;"&gt;Thus slowly one by one,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;div style="display: inline !important;"&gt;Its quaint events were hammered out—&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; font-size: 24px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;div style="display: inline !important;"&gt;And now the tale is done,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;div style="display: inline !important;"&gt;And home we steer, a merry crew,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;div style="display: inline !important;"&gt;Beneath the setting sun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-2434147752561293437?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/2434147752561293437/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/05/gradually.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/2434147752561293437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/2434147752561293437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/05/gradually.html' title='Gradually'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-4288574689869162208</id><published>2011-05-14T11:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T11:50:54.595-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The first of the last eight nights: Silent Sea</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;"When we thought we had jumped into the cold water of the ocean, we were actually just on a lake. Good that we learned how to swim."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;The sea is silent, the sea is roaring, but it holds so many things inside it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;Today, I tried to think of the future.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;About the people I would meet,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;and I couldn't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;About the places I would be in,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;but I couldn't imagine.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;So I stopped.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;I have made plans, but I don't really know what will work out and what won't. All I have is the present, is the next week, and nothing else for sure. Maybe not even that. All I can live for is the present. The same lesson I kept learning and learning over and over again this year. Because all we have is the present moment, and whoever is there, and whoever is inside our hearts and minds.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;Now we can't really do anything. It's all been said and done. And the future is pounding on the road, pounding its hooves, and singing loudly about what shape it could have. (Except, unlike in the bird song, I don't know if I want it to shut up).&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;India has many a lesson to teach, so does MUWCI. I knew it was a space for me to do what I want, a safe space of freedom to plan my day around it. But today talking to Arpita I realized I never knew what it did to me, until it all had happened.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;I can control so many things I do, but there's many more I can't control that I still do: today I learned these things also affect me back, whether I'm aware of it to not.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;So on the first of the last eight nights, I say: You never can control as many things as you wish you did. And that is good.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-4288574689869162208?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/4288574689869162208/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/05/first-of-last-eight-nights-silent-sea.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/4288574689869162208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/4288574689869162208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/05/first-of-last-eight-nights-silent-sea.html' title='The first of the last eight nights: Silent Sea'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-9059893607367952098</id><published>2011-05-13T11:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-13T11:35:26.891-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Life after UWC"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Asi decia un e-mail de Liam hoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tiene nombre! La vida despues de UWC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Megalomaniaco que soy, nunca me habia puesto a verlo así. Y pues, esque si, habia pensado en la vida en COA, el verano en Guate, pero no el &lt;i&gt;la vida&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;después de UWC. Tiene que llegar. Tenía que llegar. Como siempre me lo dije, tengo los días en India contados desde antes de venir. Y aunque si haya disfrutado cada día casi al máximo, y haya tomado las decisiones con el corazón, y no me arrepiento de nada, duele dejar este lugar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero entonces, ¿Cómo seguimos adelante?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Solo asi. Siguiendo adelante. Llorando, y llevando la tristeza al principio, pero luego recordando los buenos tiempos con una sonrisa. Como ahora yo extraño a los segundos años que quiero tanto, y voy a extrañar a mis coaños, y primeros años.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Creo que esta bien que vaya a la universidad. Tenia un poco de miedo de estar de vuelta en casa, y me senti presionado a hacer una o la otra cosa, pero estoy contento con la decision de ir directo a la U. Ahora me siento desparramado por el mundo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahora me siento que mis raíces siguen siendo chapinas, aunque no lo demuestre tanto, pero no sé de donde son las ramas ni las hojas ni el fruto ni las flores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y por lo demas? Seguiremos andando. Ya veremos como va todo. Por cierto, creo que va siendo hora que cierre este blog. Un par de entradas mas luego de graduación creo.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-9059893607367952098?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/9059893607367952098/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/05/life-after-uwc.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/9059893607367952098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/9059893607367952098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/05/life-after-uwc.html' title='&quot;Life after UWC&quot;'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-3498515462936244246</id><published>2011-05-12T04:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-13T13:21:37.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Postcards from Italy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;I remember clearly the night I was told I could come to India. It seemed so remote, a possibility so surprising that it carved a hole deep into my consciousness and my heart. My brother's face went red with surprise, it wasn't what we thought it would be. My mother cried on the phone. She had seen the door before. Should I go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Ana Liz. "Ah".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I though she was pissed at first I remember. We didn't talk for a couple of weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my friends. And finally making the choice that Friday afternoon sitting on those beds with my father. "It's really hot there, the food is spicy, and we don't know if you could come back for Christmas". "Are you sure?". Yes I was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...That plane, NEW--BOM. Its size pushed me to the limit and ask myself whether I was sure of what I was doing. I wasn't. And I was already there. Ticket bought, bags packed, everything written and sent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never manage to finish realizing all the consequences of this choice. Now I have things with stories that my family doesn't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now it's only 10 days left. Not even weeks. Days. &amp;nbsp;:) :( :S :@&lt;br /&gt;Weeks in which things and hours just seem blurry, and something is sitirring inside.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-3498515462936244246?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/3498515462936244246/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/05/postcards-from-italy.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/3498515462936244246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/3498515462936244246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/05/postcards-from-italy.html' title='Postcards from Italy'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-5419213026694279588</id><published>2011-05-10T07:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-10T07:28:56.674-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A week and a half under the thumb.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Now the world is turning on itself.&lt;br /&gt;With a funky flavor and a pinch of salt,&lt;br /&gt;it has gone to the dogs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little animals living in my hips&lt;br /&gt;are now dancing to the beat&lt;br /&gt;that wakes from this new adventure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slowly my skin incorporates as well,&lt;br /&gt;every pore rejoices in excitement,&lt;br /&gt;as I embrace that voice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It repeats itself, oh that bloody sound&lt;br /&gt;A voice from the deeps&lt;br /&gt;That makes me pound&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I have to think of packing&lt;br /&gt;but I don't really want to go&lt;br /&gt;I want to stay and dance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of my gestures are not enough&lt;br /&gt;to express the joy&lt;br /&gt;of the meaning found in the new sound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-5419213026694279588?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/5419213026694279588/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/05/week-and-half-under-thumb.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/5419213026694279588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/5419213026694279588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/05/week-and-half-under-thumb.html' title='A week and a half under the thumb.'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-6229863719201264498</id><published>2011-05-05T23:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-05T23:44:52.132-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Like a magnesium flare</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Like our dear Headmaster pointed out in our last newsletter, May burns with the above description. It's hot, intense, and short. May is special again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mayo y las despedidas escribia el año pasado. Ahora es Mayo y me voy, y Mayo y llego.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our heads bursting with data ready to pour their knowledge on numbered paper to be read by stranger eyes. Things and life is slowly drained out of our houses, concentrated in boxes for things to be given away, and our time to be spent in the library or AQ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little settlements have been built in classrooms at the AQ, corners are inhabited by &lt;i&gt;Muwci Librarianis&lt;/i&gt;, or people in the library. And the time has come for us to pack, to put all of our belongings into bags and boxes, to wait for life to move on, and new life to come to this place.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-6229863719201264498?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/6229863719201264498/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/05/like-magnesium-flare.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/6229863719201264498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/6229863719201264498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/05/like-magnesium-flare.html' title='Like a magnesium flare'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-313514748227382239</id><published>2011-05-04T07:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-04T07:19:00.125-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Power(less)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Si, asi me siento. Dos horas antes de mi segundo examen. Dos-Tres semanas antes de irme. Unos dias antes de que todo se termine, y unas horas antes de que de un solo se acabe. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-313514748227382239?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/313514748227382239/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/05/powerless.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/313514748227382239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/313514748227382239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/05/powerless.html' title='Power(less)'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-7868558801175583907</id><published>2011-04-22T10:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-22T10:30:48.361-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a month's time</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Exactly in a month's time I'll be out of this place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exactly in a month's time I'll be a few hours old alumni.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exactly in a month's time I'll be happily done with IB for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exactly in a month's time I'll know what it feels to be out there missing this place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a month's time things will have changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exactly in a month's time the end will come, of something that was one day only a dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a month's time I'll go for another adventure. :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-7868558801175583907?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/7868558801175583907/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/04/months-time.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/7868558801175583907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/7868558801175583907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/04/months-time.html' title='a month&apos;s time'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-258419398738742562</id><published>2011-04-16T10:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-16T10:51:25.982-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm lost, lost, lost, lost</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nostalgic thoughts and a feeling of despair take over my mind and heart tonight. &lt;br /&gt;I am captive of the future. The hourglass is glued to the table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five weeks. &lt;br /&gt;Five weeks.&lt;br /&gt;Five weeks.&lt;br /&gt;Four weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It is almost the end of what one day was only a dream."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cycles in my head. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-258419398738742562?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/258419398738742562/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/04/im-lost-lost-lost-lost.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/258419398738742562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/258419398738742562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/04/im-lost-lost-lost-lost.html' title='I&apos;m lost, lost, lost, lost'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-5678287525317180952</id><published>2011-04-10T09:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-10T09:43:00.101-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The befores, the durings and the afters of INC weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;This weekend I joined forces with Karen, Lennart, Miika, Phui Yi, Arpita, Padmini, Emilio, Juhi and Tarun Jagwani (02) to take part in the group interviews for the Indian National Committee Weekend. It was actually quite interesting to meet around 120 aplicants from literally all over India (except the Seven Sisters) and to see in them things that had hints and a lot of similarities with how I felt and how I was when I applied for the first and second time to come to UWC. All the applicants also went through interviews with Parag, Zia, Hritik, Subarna, Cyrus, and other teachers from the school, as well as alumni.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of them want this, they've travelled anywhere from Pune nearby to God's Own Country (Kerala, as Arpita happily would point out) in the far south India. All of them have strengths, you just have to pay attention, but unfortunately only some of them will make it through the selection process. I found some of the most creative responses to super-random questions, met a female breakdancer with Parkinson's disease, and was also an illiterate fisherwoman with breast reduction. It has hilarious at times, very boring at others, and quite shocking as well. However exhausting these three days turned out to be, it's definitely something I would do again. I learned so much about myself and how much I've changed from being here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also got closer to the coyears of mine who were doing the selections with me. I found out so many things about them through toilet paper and jokes, and I also learned a little bit about how they think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I also had the chance to speak to alumni from quite a while back and heard about how wild things where when they were here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, this place has changed, but so have we. Over a weekend or ten years.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-5678287525317180952?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/5678287525317180952/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/04/befores-durings-and-afters-of-inc.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/5678287525317180952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/5678287525317180952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/04/befores-durings-and-afters-of-inc.html' title='The befores, the durings and the afters of INC weekend'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-6005927082161924209</id><published>2011-03-16T23:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-16T23:02:00.622-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bird Song</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Another one by Florence and the Machine, its lyrics have really caught my attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/VDKwueoH5MY" title="YouTube video player" width="480"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if birds can actually see us like that, and if their songs say anything about our nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would you kill a bird if it was singing about your sins?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-6005927082161924209?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/6005927082161924209/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/03/bird-song.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/6005927082161924209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/6005927082161924209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/03/bird-song.html' title='The Bird Song'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/VDKwueoH5MY/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-3902909026770157830</id><published>2011-03-15T04:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-15T04:38:18.347-07:00</updated><title type='text'>and so, on the 9th week Cyrus said "Let there be mocks".</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;The mocks exams' schedule was put up today in the AQ, the Admin and was sent to all year 2 by Sumit (because Susan always forwards the mass e-mails to him, for some reason).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the lights up for the stage of the final IBs. The run through whether you know your lines or not. Run fast for your mother and your father. Leave for your love and your loving behind you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Florence and the Machine says that the horses are coming. Had I found the Dog Days Are Over before coming to MUWCI the dog days could have been the days before MUWCI, and the horses all the things that were coming ahead by coming here. Now the dog days are the days before studying, when my priotities where slightly skewed in another direction, and the horses, 12 papers and an art exhibition &amp;amp; interview are coming. I hear them coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard Jlo's looking for a job twice today, it might be true. I also heard about the people coming here next year. My square is going to be taken by someone else, my books, ("my" books) my notes, my corner. They're not really mine. I have that illusion. My largest analogy for my time here at MUWCI is that it's like a little life (apart from the analogy that names this blog). You come, you don't know anything, anyone, you learn the way of speaking, you learn the culture, you start making friends, knowing others, knowing yourself, and are guided by others, elders. Then, all of a sudden, life ends for the elders, and &lt;i&gt;you&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;become the elder. You have to guide others, take care of others, but you also influence their views on this place -and you begin to wonder how much of your own views were influenced by the ones before you-. There's constant elements, the space, most of the people who are not studetns, but yet the culture changes slightly between time segment and time segment. Something else, is that you know exactly how much time you have on this land: you could even count your days here. That could give you another look on to your experience here, since you know when you're leaving this place you can live like you're dying, and make the most out of every moment: if you look at life carefully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the time has come where it's hard not to realize the amount of time we have left "alive". The time has come for us to come down and look down on the IB side of life. I've spent my last two weeks studying for the exams that are coming, and I realize that it's time I could have spent travelling or having fun: but then the rest of my time before those two weeks was also time I could have spent studying more. I'm quite happy with my choices, I've mentioned it before. But now, I know when I'm leaving, I know how many weeks, roughly how many days, and it's scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes me think about what would happen if I knew when I was going to die. I could get depress: or live every day to the fullest up to that point. But, as many people experience here, knowing when and what's going to happen when you leave this place (or when your "life ends" according to my analogy) gives you a fear and a fobia about things related to the end of that life: no one talks about grad, or IBs. That's something that could hinder our lives: it's a fear, it's a fobia, it only holds us back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, now I want every morning to be bright. &amp;nbsp;I want every morning to be beautiful with birds, every day to bring something new, every day intense (because that's one of the things I love about this place) every day to feel alive, before going back into the world never to come back. Of course this is a very idealistic wish, but by working towards ideals people get progress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mother India is still there, and I will have another month or so travelling around, so there will hopefully be more updates on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happiness hit me like bullet in the back. Unexpected but strong. One day you realize how comfortable and happy you are in one place (which is in no way perfect and can turn into a crazily architectured cage from one second to the other).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-3902909026770157830?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/3902909026770157830/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/03/and-so-on-9th-week-cyrus-said-let-there.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/3902909026770157830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/3902909026770157830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/03/and-so-on-9th-week-cyrus-said-let-there.html' title='and so, on the 9th week Cyrus said &quot;Let there be mocks&quot;.'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-8757428046017984633</id><published>2011-03-12T00:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-12T00:18:42.322-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The ladakhis and the strawberries</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;This Projecct Week I decided to stay on campus, since: first of all I was broke, and second, I art and other things I wanted to work on. The result, a week on an almost empty campus, with few people and very fast internet. As I wrote in the other entry, it was so nice to be on my own without caring much about the theater you have to play when other people are around. Not that I'm fake, but in the sense, being polite, smiling like you mean it, asking and hearing all around the same question. How honest is our community?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I got a chance to get to know better some of my coyears and first years, like my housemate Yuan from China. He's actually quite a funny guy! Also Ariuka, Sonam, Rigzin, Bimla the other Sonam and I had dinner under the stars of an almost empty wada 1. We talked for a bit, at some point I was sharing whatever little I know about the Mayas, and she was saying that their culture and cosmology sounds a lot like tibetan buddhism. Point of interest right there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was on Monday. On Wednesday we went together to Mahabaleshwar, and I got to see another side of my ladakhi coyears (who are by the way, some of the funniest people I've met). In some ways, going out with them and my 1st year from Zimbabwe, Zibusiso, reminded me of going out in &lt;i&gt;Guate &lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;with my aunts. We can laugh about almost everything, and we have a good time no matter where we're going and how we're getting there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rigzen was quite the surprise! I had never seen her snap at anyone, let alone snap in hindi to a seller. Kya tin sau rupees? Bat karo! Humhara pas paise nehi hain, khatam hogia! Or something like that. The funniest thing I've seen in my life.. jajaja&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, apart from that, good Indian Paneer Makhanwala for lunch on Wednesday, and 3 kilos of strawberries to eat back on campus (that is, if people don't eat it from the fridge before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finished almost half of the Chem syllabus, and 2/5 of Econ, 2/7 of Math but that's ok. Then I read a Spanish book I was supposed to read some weeks back, and a few English readings. Of course! Art :) A painting that's going on right now, and some pages of the RWB. We shall see how this thing turns out. I just have to keep going.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-8757428046017984633?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/8757428046017984633/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/03/ladakhis-and-strawberries.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8757428046017984633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8757428046017984633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/03/ladakhis-and-strawberries.html' title='The ladakhis and the strawberries'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-4541204263521870476</id><published>2011-03-12T00:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-12T00:09:08.400-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fear</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Miedo, miedo de besarte (8)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al pasar una semana solo en el campus (con dos dias de por medio en otro lugar) me di cuenta de la libertad de estar solo. Estar con otras personas, por anti social que suene, requiere tanto teatro y tantas normas de conducta: que si le sonríes al que pasa a la par, o vas o no vas al cumpleaños de alguien, o si saludas a alguien o no les preguntás que tal estuvo su dia... sos "descortés". Y si en lugar de eso mejor decidimos dejar de lado las teatralidades y solo preguntar que tal tu travel week cuando de verdad nos importa? Creo que si se acorta el exceso en la oferta de preguntas así, el valor de cada una incrementaría tanto :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahora me he dado cuenta que todavía soy sujeto del miedo. Peur du noir. Anoche caminaba al Art Center con &lt;i&gt;Olivia Ruiz&lt;/i&gt; y sus pepitas de miedo en el vientre de música de fondo, y de verdad que mis sentidos se friquearon. No habían luces en el camino, y creia ver sombras o escuchar cosas, o cuando escuchaba algo pensaba que era el paso de alguien, y cuando había silencio total, solo imaginaba el ver una figura espectral enfrente. O como salió en el &lt;i&gt;Pune Mirror&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;el otro día, un fantasma con forma de huevo, mandibulas enormes y ojos rojos. Histeria colectiva? Paranoia por estrés? Juzge usted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al respecto del miedo, el estudiar me quita el miedo de los exámenes, el estudiar con tiempo me hace querer hacer los exámenes. Creo que si puedo hacer un buen examen si me preparo lo suficiente. Y lo mejor de todo? Puedo decir que pasé mi tiempo aquí tal como quise.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-4541204263521870476?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/4541204263521870476/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/03/fear.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/4541204263521870476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/4541204263521870476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/03/fear.html' title='Fear'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-1142824000609145618</id><published>2011-03-07T11:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-07T12:02:19.426-08:00</updated><title type='text'>la claridad y lucidez del descanso</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Ahora que me encuentro en mejor estado de energía y descanso mental, creo que puedo sacar de mi cabeza otra entrada del blog, pero un poco más estructurada esta vez.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que años!&lt;br /&gt;Qué dos años!&lt;br /&gt;Desde la semana de mochileros con Nydia a la pelea de harina y el coqueteo descarado&lt;br /&gt;Desde el mes de viaje por el norte hasta los amigos con los que te duermes para darte fuerza para el próximo dia&lt;br /&gt;Desde los abrazos negados hasta los inesperados y los "Viva"&lt;br /&gt;Las locuras en tren y el chai, lo surreal del principio o lo demasiado realista del final&lt;br /&gt;Decirle a tu maestro de inglés que es a bitch y que sea ese tu pan de cada día&lt;br /&gt;Devorarte un artículo para clase y que nadie más lo haya leido&lt;br /&gt;Las student meetings donde siempre las mismas voces hablan, o se dice lo mismo con diferentes acentos&lt;br /&gt;Ver fotos del año pasado y que se te salte el corazón de la risa y la alegría&lt;br /&gt;Balbucear en idiomas que no entiendo por querer entender mejor la cultura de alguien y llenar ensayos de requerimento&lt;br /&gt;El CALOR! la HUMEDAD! la SEQUIA! las gotas del monzón que cayeron en tu piel y que nunca se sentirán así de libres y distintas entre año y año&lt;br /&gt;El regresar de la caf a comer ensalada o yogurt porque el almuerzo estaba feo&lt;br /&gt;Las especias que se quedan impresas en tu garganta en su camino de ida o vuelta&lt;br /&gt;Los cuartitos chiquititos o la arquitectura loca&lt;br /&gt;La risa de Nydia! &lt;i&gt;La cara&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;de Rickie con el comentario inapropiado! Los ojitos de Victoria!&lt;br /&gt;Las mordidas de Krista, y la risa de Osnat! Las quejas de Aviv! (Lehultzá! Levana! Chará!)&lt;br /&gt;El descubrir otros rumbos de tu piel, y el sentirse perdido flotando en la luna&lt;br /&gt;El ver a tu país desde otros ojos&lt;br /&gt;El verte crecer el pelo y cortarlo todo una mañana impulsiva&lt;br /&gt;El leer libros atrasados y adelantados&lt;br /&gt;El sentirme en el país de las maravillas o en el laberinto del jardín&lt;br /&gt;El planear y planear&lt;br /&gt;El pensar y dejar de pensar&lt;br /&gt;Las pinches aliteraciones y los tés con Amrita&lt;br /&gt;Claro está, la risa de Kiren y los pucheros de Shyamli&lt;br /&gt;Yanna y sus ojos, tambien las risas de Maite y Sofía (especialmente en clase de español)&lt;br /&gt;Moonsooo siempre con hambre&lt;br /&gt;El QUIERES? de Naoko con las Navidades.&lt;br /&gt;Los pies callosos de andar descalzo y quemados por el calor&lt;br /&gt;La botella que huele mal aunque la lave&lt;br /&gt;Las llamadas de skype tarde y los deseos de cosas imposibles&lt;br /&gt;Los cafés con Andrés y Urbano&lt;br /&gt;Pelear con Anu y Arpita y reirnos&lt;br /&gt;Ir con Gauri a que me ordene mi desorden mental (aunque yo sepa como)&lt;br /&gt;El chai a las 3.30 todos los días con Usha!&lt;br /&gt;Los ojos de la gente y el namasté con el corazón&lt;br /&gt;La calidez de los locales que me recuerda a mis locales&lt;br /&gt;Claro los comentarios políticamente incorrectos con Hritik y Subarna (y el magnífico Mousse de chocolate)&lt;br /&gt;Y todo lo demás que gira y deja de girar al mismo tiempo.&lt;br /&gt;Y ahora, lo que dice Yael: it's all ending.. it's over, it's all over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aunque no quiera se termina, y creo que es hora de aceptarlo. Aunque quiera convencerme de que tengo muchos dias, son solo un poco más de setenta. Así que este último tirón tiene que ser para bien.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-1142824000609145618?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/1142824000609145618/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/03/la-claridad-y-lucidez-del-descanso.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1142824000609145618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1142824000609145618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/03/la-claridad-y-lucidez-del-descanso.html' title='la claridad y lucidez del descanso'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-7878966002982625011</id><published>2011-03-05T10:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-05T10:00:34.486-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Y mas adelante?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Ahora ya, luego de las 100 entradas, le digo al Yaxcal:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1253551012" style="font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;ais&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_177183616" style="font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;vos me voy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_4006452059" style="font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;a dormir&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_2702134043" style="font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;con el corazon volando entre alla y aca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_2313463263" style="font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;y el 1234 y las funciones con estequiometría, pensando en un call center&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1715011738" style="font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;img alt=":)" class="emote_img" src="http://static.ak.fbcdn.net/images/blank.gif" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: url(http://static.ak.fbcdn.net/rsrc.php/zC/r/eKCEtE1PXyK.png); background-origin: initial; background-position: 0px 0px; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; height: 16px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; vertical-align: top; width: 16px;" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;jaja&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="font-size: 11px; margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;y ahora?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;y ahora?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;y ahora?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;dos semanas sin dormir adecuadamente: entre un ensayo del TOK, recuerdo que comi mousse de chocolate, y que dormi en el cuarto de Osnat, hmm tambien pase horas en casa de Michael con las Written Tasks y el Viva Voce que llego despues de media noche. Recuerdo que me peleé con la impresora (y con Word, por pendejo) y que queria ir de Travel Week pero no fui. Ahora recuerdo el principio, los primeros días cálidos y húmedos como Bombay y perdido como habiendo caido por el agujero del conejo: donde todo era maravilla.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Como olvidar los Chem Labs, la falta de sueño y el desorden del cuarto.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Todo bien?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;No, estoy cansado.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;A donde vas a travel week?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Me quedo en campus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;y eso?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;bah, crei que necesitaba hacer algo de arte, pero quizás no, igual me quedo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Vas a salir?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Quizas a Mahabaleshwar, uno o dos días.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Ya.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Y tambien Aviv vuelta loca, enojada y yo burlandome de ella, platicando con Osnat y Yanna, un besito a Kiren. El cumpleaños de Shyamli! y yo sin energías, ya le hare panqueques otro dia, o french toast, con Kate Nash de fondo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Recuerdo las clases de inglés a lo lejos, uno que otro comentario que me parece cínico de Santiago, Maite diciendome que me vale la clase de español, detalle: saque el libro de La Casa de Bernarda Alba luego de que leimos la escena final.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Planes de Travel Week:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Development Economics, Introduction to Economics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Stoic, Atomic Theory (check), Bonding, Periodicity, Energetics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Functions &amp;amp; Trigonometry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Luces de Bohemia, Esperando a Godot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Global Issues Readings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;4 artworks &amp;amp; 30 pages of RWB&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;claro esta, todo para los mocks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;y pensar en mi. La cancion de fondo que me dejo shaked de feist funciona bien para esta entrada del blog.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Ahora pienso en los call centers para la segunda mitad de este año: de ser IB student a empleado de un call center, la vida de muchos giros: pero quizás valga madres cuando esté en el kibutz. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Que más... le escribi a los amigos de la Prepa, y he estado luchando por reencontrar shoreshim de mis amistades en guatemala.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;El hebreo! Hoy le escribi las teclas en hebreo a mi teclado, porque ya esta configurado, y porque no quiero olvidar que se leerlo. Hindi será otra historia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="fbChatMessage fsm" data-jsid="message" id="msg_551681776_1612184151" style="margin-bottom: 3px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;11 semanas.... y contando. 11 semanas y quien sabe cuantas mas entradas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-7878966002982625011?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/7878966002982625011/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/03/y-mas-adelante.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/7878966002982625011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/7878966002982625011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/03/y-mas-adelante.html' title='Y mas adelante?'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-1163567841157815309</id><published>2011-03-02T21:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T21:20:13.047-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The River is Right.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Hoy por la ma;ana tuve la opotunidad de asistir a un taller que me recordo una de las cosas mas importantes que he aprendido en India. El taller se centraba alrededor de la premisa de que la tierra tiene cierta sabiduria a la cual podemos acudir para crecer como seres humanos. El facilitador unio esta idea con el arquetipo mitologico del viaje del heroe, que es una historia narrada en historias de civilizaciones antiguas de todo el mundo. Ambas ideas se unen en el punto en el que el heroe tiene que aceptar quien es a traves de ese llamado a la aventura, y en el punto en el que nosotros estamos tan enredados en nudos de nuestra propia creacion y tenemos que aceptar las cosas como son, dejarnos caer por nuestro propio peso, como las aves cuando vuelan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basicamente la idea era dejarse llevar. Probablemente no le estoy haciendo justicia con ese parrafo introductorio pero que mas da. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estabamos sentados en un area en las afueras del colegio, llamada el Sacred Grove, donde hay un viejo altar a Shiva, y un arbol que no fue talado por los indigenas por ser sagrado para la mitologia hindu. Entonces, con el tiempo,&amp;nbsp;el arbol y sus raices se unieron al templo al punto en el que si se tala el arbol se caeria el templo. Es un claro con mas arboles altos, y y donde el viento sopla despacio haciendo vibrar las hojas de los arboles a su paso. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubo un punto en el taller nos dieron un espacio de media hora para ir a caminar por ese claro del bosque, a la orilla de una monta;a, a pensar, a ver la naturaleza y quizas tener una conversacion. Pense en las plantas, en los arboles, y pense en cuanto tiempo habra tomado para todas esas hojas se formaran, incluso las que estan en el suelo. Pense en lo lentamente que todo esto fue producido, pero que aun asi, se habia logrado. Y luego pense en el estres que tuvimos esta semana, por el EE, el TOK, los World Lits y todas las cosas que habia que entregar. Me di cuenta que la sabiduria de la naturaleza en relacion a eso esta en que las plantas y los arboles dan su fruto, sus hojas y sus flores de manera constante, nunca lo dejan todo para un solo dia. Claro, las plantas tampoco tienen fechas limite para entregar una tarea, pero esa fecha limite podria ser el dia en que alguien quiere sentarse a admirar la belleza de esa planta o arbol.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-1163567841157815309?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/1163567841157815309/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/03/river-is-right.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1163567841157815309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1163567841157815309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/03/river-is-right.html' title='The River is Right.'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-6366176436543936399</id><published>2011-02-22T07:38:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-22T07:38:27.718-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A little account about how I feel right now.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"&gt;A little account of how I feel right now (except a bit more structure).&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"&gt;Tiredness, probably out of the amount of work and things I have done and I have left to do.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"&gt;A feeling of realization, of the things I’ve discovered and done here. I don’t regret doing or not doing anything. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"&gt;Wondering about the future, because even though I am going back to Guate, and traveling in India before that, and a kibutz in Israel after that (maybe), and COA after that, I have no idea of what those things actually entail. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"&gt;Then, silence.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"&gt;Sometimes tears start encroaching towards my eyes, wanting to jump from there. It would be fine to let them be if that did not stain my feelings for like the rest of the time that I’m not supposed to be feeling bad.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"&gt;But at the bottom of this I just feel that when this mixture of feelings comes around the corner, everything is so much more intense, and I also start living more intensely. Had I lived in another place I think my reaction towards life would be very different.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"&gt;We shall see.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"&gt;Also, about home. Shit, I really feel disconnected from them. It’s a scary thought. I can’t begin to explain to them how much this places means and has meant to me, so that the loss of it will be… devastating I think. Shit. Then I will feel very alone, because the people who will understand me will be far away, and the people who are near me won’t understand. I just hope they’re there. I want to reconnect with people from Guate. &lt;/span&gt;Mucho. Pero ya no se, no tengo tiempo o energia o lo que sea para concentrarme en Guatemala por mucho que quiera, quizás lo haga cuando llegue allá. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Necesito algo de transiciion, o quizás no. Quizás lo que necesito es que se acabe de unas vez y por todas. El año pasado fue el salto al otro lado del charco con mis emociones agotadas y despedazadas. Este año tengo un mes de por medio para digerir un poco la situacion antes de irme. A veces me pregunto cuanto me afectaran los compromisos que tengo y que escogi.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-6366176436543936399?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/6366176436543936399/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/02/little-account-about-how-i-feel-right.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/6366176436543936399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/6366176436543936399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/02/little-account-about-how-i-feel-right.html' title='A little account about how I feel right now.'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-1366213125439895214</id><published>2011-02-22T00:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-22T00:26:43.955-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Go To The River</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Ve al rio, ve al rio cuando te sientas loco y cuando te sientas azul por dentro y cuando sientas que destruye tu mente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuando estés avergonzado, cuando estés triste, ve al rio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ve Ve Ve Ve Ve al rio hoy en la noche&lt;br /&gt;y suspira suspira, quiere mas y mas de la vida que tenias antes&lt;br /&gt;deja que las estaciones lleguen y nada, deja que la nieve brille brille&lt;br /&gt;y cuando el viento sople solo fluye fluye,&lt;br /&gt;eventualmente lo sabras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Algo surrealista, algo triste y algo de confusion porque se asoman las ultimas doce semanas. LAS ULTIMAS DOCE SEMANAS. Con todo y descanso.&lt;br /&gt;Comence un video blog. Lloré un par de veces ya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tengo una pilota de trabajo que terminar, pero la voy &amp;nbsp;a terminar a tiempo. No puedo ni siquiera pensar en que esperar de esas ultimas semanas. 4 semanas de clase. mocks. study leave. IBs. Bas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al inicio de este term estaba enojado porque ya me queria ir, y ahora estoy comenzando a estar triste porque ya viene la hora de irme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero ya pensando mas despacio y calmado, me siento amarrado y enojado y agh. Necesito un break o una siesta o algo.&lt;br /&gt;Agh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/1zZxXiA4geY?rel=0" title="YouTube video player" width="640"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-1366213125439895214?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/1366213125439895214/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/02/go-to-river.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1366213125439895214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1366213125439895214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/02/go-to-river.html' title='Go To The River'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/1zZxXiA4geY/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-580277870531483437</id><published>2011-02-03T12:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T12:19:31.858-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='idea para infografico'/><title type='text'>How much do we actually need to consume?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;a few days back I was called hippie because my housemate, Martin, saw a copy of a book I'm reading which is called like this entry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me causa curiosidad el pensar en mi mismo como un "hippie" por leer libros que no son del mainstream capitalista y consumista&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a la vez me doy cuenta que igual consumo mucho, y deberia parar, el libro me va dando un sentido de que veras deberia pensar que es lo que estoy comprando y si lo necesito. no tanto por ahorrar plata, sino por tambien ahorrar recursos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tambien hace un par de dias volvi a enamorarme de mi clase de economia, escuchando cosas como "terms of trade" entendi porque es que no debemos consumir cosas de MNCs grandes y apoyar la economia local. me gustaría mucho saber que puedo crear un cambio en mi pais a traves de la educacion.. pero no se hasta donde llegara el alcance de un joven idealista. me dieron ganas de hacer un infografico sobre porque no deberiamos consumir hamburguesas de macdonald's en lugar de shucos de la esquina, o burger king en lugar del comedor de la señora de la vuelta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;vamos a intentar usar infograficos para mejorar el sistema educativo de guatemala. una afirmacion bastante grande, pero antes las he hecho y no me ha ido tan mal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ahora, hablando de consumir, estoy pensando que deberia dejar de consumir mi tiempo en cosas que no son productivas (para variar). me preocupan un poco mis examenes finales, y siento que debo empezar a darle mas y mas importancia a las cosas que tengo enfrente (comenzando por el EE)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tambien tengo planeado quedarme en travel week aca en campus, necesito trabajar un poco. poquito a poco voy tambien sacando conclusiones de las cosas que me llevo de este lugar. la verdad no puedo ver atras y pensar que hubo algo que no hice.. casi todas las ideas que me cruzaron por la cabeza se materializaron tarde o temprano&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y ahora, el futuro, 13 de julio, la fecha de mi ida de india... trece de julio. al fin tiene nombre, dia y mes. 26 de agosto 2009, 13 de julio 2011. guau. si que son casi dos años completos con sus breaks de por medio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;creo que sacrifique muchas cosas al venir aqui, y bien como dijo michael el gap year podria no darme las respuestas que busco, pero creo que no vendra mal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;quiero reconectar con la gente de guatemala, con mi familia, con mis tias, con mis amigos. presiento que tendre que saltar muchos obstaculos para llegar a ellos (o prejuicios, si llamamos las cosas por su nombre).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;por ahora, es hora de dormir y hora de intentar soñar para estar despierto a primera hora.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-580277870531483437?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/580277870531483437/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/02/how-much-do-we-actually-need-to-consume.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/580277870531483437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/580277870531483437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/02/how-much-do-we-actually-need-to-consume.html' title='How much do we actually need to consume?'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-1731251191749923478</id><published>2011-02-03T12:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T12:06:39.839-08:00</updated><title type='text'>falling apart</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;This week has been crazy. Not so much about stress as it has been about hits in the face and stretching. In the figurative sense of the phrase.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-1731251191749923478?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/1731251191749923478/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/02/falling-apart.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1731251191749923478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1731251191749923478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/02/falling-apart.html' title='falling apart'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-8415671962668524396</id><published>2011-02-03T12:05:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T12:05:30.588-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;this week i've lived to the very edge of my capacities one of the most important lessons in my time as a UWC student: communication is the answer to resolution of conflicts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the couple of past entries in this blog have just been to blow off steam from the things i've felt and put myself through over the past week. It was a mentally, emotionally, and physically chalenging week, as I was leading a discussion with our headmaster along with Alejandro, my coyear from Venezuela) We presented our views and interests as those of our peer students in relation to a proposal that just turned into a big fight with a very sticky environment&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-8415671962668524396?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/8415671962668524396/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/02/this-week-ive-lived-to-very-edge-of-my.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8415671962668524396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8415671962668524396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/02/this-week-ive-lived-to-very-edge-of-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-1147485745993650402</id><published>2011-02-03T12:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T12:05:11.890-08:00</updated><title type='text'>la chispa</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Me sorprende mucho ver lo poco que he escrito este semestre en relación al semestre anterior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoy me siento como si la gran cantidad de energía e ideas y cosas que tenía por hacer van siendo menos y menos importantes. Es triste verme a mi mismo en esta situación.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-1147485745993650402?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/1147485745993650402/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/02/la-chispa.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1147485745993650402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1147485745993650402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/02/la-chispa.html' title='la chispa'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-8607493302190676160</id><published>2011-01-28T11:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-28T11:57:36.573-08:00</updated><title type='text'>and so I gave peace a chance</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I felt like I was ready for the world to turn on itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking at pictures and writing and working a feeling of accomplishment is settling in. The things I wanted&lt;br /&gt;to discover about myself and the world here in this opportunity have happened, and whatever extra things&lt;br /&gt;I happened to experience outside of those expectations have been very big blessings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But today for the first time I felt like it's time to let the winds blow my boat to other lands. Over the&lt;br /&gt;past few days I've been saying that I'm sick of this place, that I want to get out of here, but today&lt;br /&gt;I feel like it's time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After an amazing theater workshop that turned my mood on itself and made me smile for the first time&lt;br /&gt;in a while, I was walking for dinner from my house and I felt grad to be exactly that. The world will&lt;br /&gt;turn on itself. My world, my space and the places I've seen and been will collapse onto each other and&lt;br /&gt;become memories for me to carry wherever my choices and those of others that affect me will lead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I last week I felt like I had broken-up with MUWCI, now I feel like I'll remember it as the pictures of&lt;br /&gt;an amazing trip I did, that was horrible at times, but from which I preserve amazing life lessons and&lt;br /&gt;friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mere fact that I'm looking at options outside of this place with such peace and eagerness show me&lt;br /&gt;that I'm growing more and more ready to spread my wings again. Of course, it will be extremely hard to&lt;br /&gt;leave this place and all of the people I met here only to find some of them outside of this beautiful&lt;br /&gt;hill. But that's just the way life works, we move on, we keep our friends, or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel more and more thankful for this feeling. For it will let me leave my place here in peace, and I will not&lt;br /&gt;leave MUWCI like I would leave out of a cage, running for freedom. I will pack and probably cry my eyes out&lt;br /&gt;on the last weeks, but I will look onto the future (wherever and whatever that entails) with a smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-8607493302190676160?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/8607493302190676160/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/01/and-so-i-gave-peace-chance.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8607493302190676160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8607493302190676160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/01/and-so-i-gave-peace-chance.html' title='and so I gave peace a chance'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-1531158905576869973</id><published>2011-01-23T08:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-23T08:05:45.148-08:00</updated><title type='text'>High Hills</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;I went on a walk yesterday. It was meant to be a hike, a hike to stay at the top of Mt. Wilkinson and get the f*ck away from the pressure of this place. But we didn't have enough water. So we walked I think 1/4th of the way, and sat there talking about things on a sleeping bag on top of the dry weeds. Probably there were snake nests below us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we came down to a clearing, next to the shiva shrine. From there I could talk about things, and literally let out whatever my chest was generating inside me beyond the air I exhaled. And I talked to my friend about how I felt. Drained, exhausted, left at point zero. Powerless. Buzz lightyear finally exhausted his batteries, or maybe someone just pulled him by the string in his back. There were two snake skins next to the place where we were laying, and there was the sky above us. The moon was nowhere to be found, maybe she was also hiding because she didn't know what to do. &amp;nbsp;I stayed on the ground looking at the star, and I told my friend that one of the reasons I was keen on getting my glasses was because I couldn't see the stars without them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was laying on top of the sleeping bag, looking at whatever my eyes were perceiving in that blinding darkness because the moon refused to shed light on me. I was pouring words and feelings out. But the feelings kept coming back, I was a sacred elixir that never emptied its carry. Finally he asked me to close my eyes and focus, and I felt all those feelings were in my forehead. Then I was asked to give those feelings a color. I felt like I was looking at water from below the surface. When the little waves crashed against each other, they turned black as they came back. The right side of the water was green, the other side was yellow; so no, I couldn't pick a single color, since the colors were as complex as the knot I had created inside and around me. &amp;nbsp;I was also asked to give a texture, but I couldn't find the words to explain I feeling I had when I touched the essence of that feeling, even if I saw a hand dipping into it and feeling it amongst the tips of its fingers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my friend asked me to sit straight, and close my eyes again, and think of my favorite place in the world. My thoughts went to my aunts' house, but I remembered that when I've been there it's because I've needed to get away from problems, not because there were no problems at all. So I went backwards, way far in time and memories, and I found my little room. The room where I used to play with building bricks which were red and blue and green and yellow. That was my space where nothing else mattered, and there were no problems till the day the black came into my life as an inkload.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In there, I saw my forehead filled with this liquid, which was now white. My forehead was filled with the liquid, and I saw it being slowly drained, like a thick milk through my cheeks to my arms and out through the tips of my fingers inside my fists. It was dripping into the grass, because I couldn't feel the sleeping bag anymore. I was empty for a second, and then I was asked to think of another liquid, a nicer one, and I thought of a slightly greenish water, almost like the one you would use to make bubbles. Light as a tea but with a slightly artificial color. I imagined the liquid filling my forehead and even the channels till the tip of my fingers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I opened my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my friend was still there, sitting on his backpack, and I could almost completely describe his outline in the dark, because the moon wasn't there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-1531158905576869973?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/1531158905576869973/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/01/high-hills.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1531158905576869973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1531158905576869973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/01/high-hills.html' title='High Hills'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-1517823856536981351</id><published>2011-01-21T08:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-21T08:25:18.005-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mal sabor de boca</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"&gt;Hoy hace una semana comenzo una de las semanas que me han dejado con el peor sabor de boca al terminar una semana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha sido ya casi una semana desde algo que comenzo como una propuesta para quedarnos un par de dias mas en el campus despues de la graduacion, que se volvio en una impresion de que el director nos habia engañado, a una guerra de e-mails (al mejor estilo juego de ping-pong) a una reunion de estudiantes que nos unio y a una reunion de colegio que quebro algo en la comunidad (no se esta muy seguro sobre que fue lo que se quebro). Luego paso a un dia de ermitaño y a una tarde de tareas y una reunion con el director y una pelea con el venezolano y otra fase de ermitaño y todo todo todo todo todo todo todo que me harta y que por eso me voy a la montaña mañana por la noche.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-1517823856536981351?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/1517823856536981351/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/01/mal-sabor-de-boca.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1517823856536981351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1517823856536981351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/01/mal-sabor-de-boca.html' title='Mal sabor de boca'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-5258958637697023329</id><published>2011-01-13T21:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-13T21:20:24.906-08:00</updated><title type='text'>a week back and the world has changed on its tip</title><content type='html'>A week back here is a long time. Many things happen, you get happy, tired, pissed and angry with yourself. Right now I'm the last phase of these. Yet once again I did something stupid, or said something I should have, or failed a paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On monday I was tired of being here, even if the night before I had an amazing butter-melting talk with someone I like. Then on Tuesday I stressed out about my Econ paper (or better said, how bad it went), then I started speaking to my teachers about my grades, and on Wednesday I came to the conclusion that I have to sit and work more regularly this term. I got a post-it that turned my head around, but it also pushed me to take a call. Then on Thursday I was pissed again at people here, more specifically faculty, new faculty, and I also got excited because my CI is up and running again. Finally today I'm pissed at myself, and thinking again about the future, and about what I did wrong, and about why I still want to be here, and about the amount of work I´ve kept postponing this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's time for me to grow up and start thinking more before speaking. I think it's also time for me to start working as much as I should.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably this is one of the last large lessons I´ll learn from being here. A time comes when the things we don't want to face are inevitable, and they're coming, no matter what we do, or say or think, they're coming. We have to decide what do we want to do when those come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-5258958637697023329?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/5258958637697023329/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/01/week-back-and-world-has-changed-on-its.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/5258958637697023329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/5258958637697023329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/01/week-back-and-world-has-changed-on-its.html' title='a week back and the world has changed on its tip'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-369722810792359300</id><published>2011-01-05T06:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-05T06:53:34.530-08:00</updated><title type='text'>90 ways of thinking and feeling</title><content type='html'>the 90th entry goes for the same number of ways of looking at and thinking about muwci right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i could definitely stay and travel for three or four more weeks with no shelter for the night and no meal garanteed, maybe for the thrill of it or maybe because it represents not going back to muwci for a while. it's a peter pan feeling i think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the last term at muwci has finally come, i think i can associate each of my terms with a part of the trimurti, the 1st, brahma, creation, the term of discovery, shock and starting a new life from zero. the 2nd, vishnu, the conservation, the time when things seemed eternal and yet they were not. the term i've been the most homesick so far, and the term that has felt the longest, in which i got closer and closer to my friends (particularly my now gone second years). the 3rd one was mayhem destruction and dance, like shiva. the hardest so far, and the one that i've also enjoyed the most. the one where i realized my second years were gone, and because of that destruction came to the muwci i had known before this term. now... even the future is laid out, so what's there to do for the 4th one, the last one, the best one (as i want it to be). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel sad deep down because i'm going to miss this place, but i also feel like i'm getting fed up with it slowly. i couldn't take one more year i think... i also have a lot of plans and new things i want to do, but i want to preserve what i have and i also know that it's the one where i have to wrap up many things.... maybe i'm done with everything and will achieve moksha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;also i think that if the day before i came to india for the first time, and the week before i left back for guate last year where a whirlwind of mixed feelings, this term that trouble will be my friend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;reading books and buying them and reading reading and learning stuff has shown me a growing side of myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and well, while yes, i have a lot of work to do and my mini peter pan scheme is a way of TRYING to get away from that, i also miss the people, and i like this state of knowing when i'll see them again, while when i see them again right now, i'll do it in mind of knowing i'm leaving that place in may.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there's plans for the future (including a year in guatemala) which are scary but in place, and that i'm also looking forward to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm not too sure about if the things i want to regain where ever there, but i guess can only find out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;travelling with rickie and victoria proved to be a nice experience, all and all, and i'll include bits and pieces of my writings on a little red notebook here soon, which is why there was no emotionally charged and epiphany-style note this year here on my blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;happy new year!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-369722810792359300?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/369722810792359300/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/01/90-ways-of-thinking-and-feeling.html#comment-form' title='2 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/369722810792359300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/369722810792359300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2011/01/90-ways-of-thinking-and-feeling.html' title='90 ways of thinking and feeling'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-1282822076912521842</id><published>2010-12-20T05:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T05:25:02.325-08:00</updated><title type='text'>desde amritsar</title><content type='html'>estamos en amritsar, hogar del templo dorado, un frio que hace que me duelan los pies, y la capital del sikhismo.&lt;br /&gt;haciendo cuentas estos dias me di cuenta que hemos estado en lugar religiosamente muy diversos,&lt;br /&gt;en delhi, la casa de roshni (quien es cristiana catolica), luego el taj mahal, la mezquita mas grande de la india en delhi, y delhi en si que son musulmanes (en origen o arquitectura), el ganges que visitamos en rishikesh es sagrado para los hindues, estamos en un lugar de sikhs, y vamos a dharamshala con los tibetanos budistas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;amritsar es bien fria fria fria, el tren estuvo aburrido y tambien frio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;el templo dorado.. es mas pequeño de lo que pensaba, y tiene un aura rara que no le percibi a otros templos. no entramos por respeto (cientos de sikhs alrededor quizas no hubieran apreciado que tres turistas entren a su Mecca por entretenimiento)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;luego fuimos por un postre en la tarde, y a caminar en las afueras del templo, donde hay miles de vnetas y tiendas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no entiendo el script de aca (es punjabi) pero me gusta mucho mucho, entonces me compre una playera con ese script.. no se bien que dice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;luego/... mmm al final en rishikesh hicimos rafting!&lt;br /&gt;fue magnifico, el rio estaba heladisimo pero fue toda una experiencia la verdad, tengo ganas de volver a hacerlo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mientras tanto.. mañana vamos a la frontera con pakistan a ver la ceremonia de cambio de guardias en la tarde, y yo a esperar a recibir noticias de mi casa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-1282822076912521842?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/1282822076912521842/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/12/desde-amritsar.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1282822076912521842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1282822076912521842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/12/desde-amritsar.html' title='desde amritsar'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-6367630198078474389</id><published>2010-12-17T07:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-17T07:59:22.021-08:00</updated><title type='text'>pinches cebollas</title><content type='html'>esta vez escribo desde rishikesh, lugar donde los beatles vinieron a exponerse al orientalismo y la culturas del este.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;para variar (y quizas debido al cambio de ubicacion) hoy tengo ganas de dar un poco de introduccion a mi entrada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fichado por la filosofa nydia leon, el termino pinches cebollas hace alusion al modelo de shrek sobre la codicion humana. somos seres complejos, si, con capas. el pinches hace referencia a que no deberiamos creernos mas de lo que somos si apenas llegamos a ser una misera cebollita con problemas para entendernos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hoiy me senti mas pinche cebolla que nunca, me senti preguntarme "y que pasa si las capas de la pinche cebolla tienen comportamientos conflictivos entre si?" que pasa si en mi intento por llenar mi autoestima y parecer inteligente o sabelotodo daño, ofendo o lastimo a las personas de las que luego busco cariño?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;que pasa si nuestro comportamiento de acuerdo a nuestras necesidades (el ello de acuerdo a la psicologia) tienen conflicto con lo que queremos alcanzar? (el super yo, si mal no recuerdo)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- reflexion y refleccion en las montañas -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rishikesh es muy new age, hay muchisisisisisimos lugares para hacer yoga y meditacion y todas esas cosas, y sadhus y templos y toda la cosa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;es un pueblito ensañado en las montañas, con un rio de por medio y puentes colgantes uniendolo y dividiendolo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tiene edificios que se asoman de entre los arboles para capturar la mejor vista posible del rio, llenisimo de turistas, y hippies y new age people y gente con rastas y gente de mochileros y parejas y grupos y gringos e indios que todos hablan ingles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;friito como guate en diciembre, pero aca necesito usar dos sueteres (gracias ludita por el sueter de lana de la antigua!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y bueno... aqui hay mucha paz, es como un descanso de la india en general, a pesar de ser hardcore oriental.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mañana vamnos de rafting, y el 19 nos vamos al templo dorado y la frontera con pakistan (amirtsar). el 21 o 22 llegamos a dharamshala con los tibetanos!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y luego el desierto de rajasthan para el año nuevo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;subire fotos en cuanto pueda!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-6367630198078474389?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/6367630198078474389/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/12/pinches-cebollas.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/6367630198078474389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/6367630198078474389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/12/pinches-cebollas.html' title='pinches cebollas'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-4642476063888108714</id><published>2010-12-09T03:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-09T03:15:14.198-08:00</updated><title type='text'>RETROspectiva</title><content type='html'>Leyendo entradas del año pasado, de mas o menos esta epoca y mas o menos esta cancion de fondo me doy cuenta una vez más de como he cambiado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esta vez voy al norte, al frío y a perseguir cosas que ni siquiera imagino, a congelarme en Delhi Nydia-style y a celebrar navidad con mavi y el mae.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Siento que si he avanzado pero me siento mas o menos en el mismo lugar. Quizás es porque no es fin de año todavía exactamente, Diciembre apenas empezó, pero no siento, o quizás no sé medir como y cuanto cambié. Quizás es porque sigo siendo el mismo pero ahora sin menos miedos... entonces no soy el mismo? o si?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En definitiva este año ha sido mejor que el anterior, y espero el próximo sea mejor aun, pero ya no siento la necesidad de dividir los años en 12 meses, esas unidades inventadas por nosotros que al final al sol ni le importan. El sale y se mete y nosotros seguimos corriendo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quizás una descripción de parte de mis primeros años y una de mis segundos años y una de mis familiares demuestren como he cambiado, quizás coinciden, no sé.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En 2011 año... a ver: a groso modo India hasta Julio, luego.. Guate en Agosto, gap year hasta diciembre y hasta septiembre del próximo año&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En 2011... los IBs, el vivir otra vez en la casa, y el seguir viviendo solo y el seguir aprendiendo y el seguirme presionando y lo de siempre pero no siempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero antes, un mes en el norte, en las montañas y el desierto y los soles y las lunas frias.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero antes, dejaré MUWCI para regresar una última vez y dar el beso de despedida al lugar que aumenta mi chispa por conocerme y conocer el mundo más y más.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-4642476063888108714?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/4642476063888108714/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/12/retrospectiva.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/4642476063888108714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/4642476063888108714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/12/retrospectiva.html' title='RETROspectiva'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-4660155256785414803</id><published>2010-12-01T11:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-01T11:06:58.875-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Here's to the future</title><content type='html'>Bueno, hoy 1ero de Diciembre de 2010 he aplicado finalmente a la Universidad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aunque a mi aplicación le faltan algunos detalles, da un poco de miedo saber que es el primer paso hacia el futuro, hacia finalmente ir a la universidad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Viendo en retrospectiva me doy cuenta que realmente son las cosas que decido hacer y la profundidad con la que las hago que crezco y aprendo sobre quien soy. Me parece un contraste interesante. Justo ahora recuerdo la tarde de viernes cuando decidí que si quería venir a MUWCI. Estaba sentado en la cama que compartía en rotación con mis hermanos, después del colegio, pensando en como sería mi vida si venía a un colegio del mundo unido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"7 años.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 años en la India, 4 años en la Universidad, y 1 año trabajando donde pueda antes de volver a Guatemala."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me daba vueltas la cabeza pensando en lo que sería salir de Guatemala y experimentar todo eso. Ahora estoy entrando a la ultima parte de esos dos años en la India. Quién pensaría que dos años en la India me están dejando aprender quizás lo que el mismo Colón buscaba cuando llego a con nuestros antepasados.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lo que tengo claro es que sea cual sea el resultado de la aplicación a la Universidad, voy a pasar el año siguiente en Guatemala, con mi gente, en mi país, reconectando con ellos antes de lanzarme nuevamente a la vida afuera. Creo que se aprecia más la vida en ambos lados al pasar un tiempo en cada uno. Además, hay cosas que tengo que definitivamente aprender y entender si siquiera pretendo intentar ayudar a mi país. Lo único que puedo traer son mis ganas de ayudar, y ellos me dirán como funciona mejor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luego está mi familia. Pensando en ellos me doy cuenta que he perdido mucho contacto con ellos... sin mencionar mis amigos. Se viene un semestre aún más intenso, pero esta vez no solo por lo académico, y no quiero que llegue el día de mi graduación y sentir que mi familia y amigos no saben quién soy ya. Creo que el estar lejos de ellos en estos dos años tan cruciales en mi vida me ha dado la oportunidad de valorarlos muchísimo más, de entenderlos, y de pensar en la forma en que me han apoyado siempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Los planes para el futuro... mmm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- usar mis capacidades para ayudar en lo mejor que pueda&lt;br /&gt;- vivir una vida haciendo lo que me gusta, y me hace sentir vivo, y que me pueda sostener,&lt;br /&gt;los bienes materiales ni hacen ni deshacen qué tan buena será mi vida&lt;br /&gt;- aprender de la cultura de mi país casi tan intensamente como he podido estar en contacto con la cultura india&lt;br /&gt;- vivir mi ultimo semestre en muwci al máximo&lt;br /&gt;- reconectar con la gente que me vio crecer, y compartir con ellos lo que he aprendido aqui&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cada vez siento más que cuando llegue mi hora de dejar India estaré listo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por lo pronto, el 10 vamos con Rickie y Victoria a viajar por el norte de la India. Navidad en Delhi o Rishikesh o Dharamshala o Amritsar o algo así, y año nuevo en el desierto de Rajasthan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y el 15 me contestan de COA...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;futuro? me da igual? es ayer y es mañana.. volverá a pasó y a pasar&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-4660155256785414803?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/4660155256785414803/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/12/heres-to-future.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/4660155256785414803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/4660155256785414803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/12/heres-to-future.html' title='Here&apos;s to the future'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-326153579811449235</id><published>2010-11-24T12:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-24T12:25:57.185-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ayayay</title><content type='html'>Well it's been more than a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year I think I'm writing less and less because of the brain drain of energy I get from life here. As Andrea Molina says, these are the days in which you sleep little, but you don't want to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been going on through a lot of decisions and experiences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Juggling with the idea of a gap year in Guatemala, I've decided I'll do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also been trying to keep more in touch with my family and friends (slowly but I'm trying)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I've also thought about MUWCI, the future and life afterwards (as usual).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the rest.... things look rather bright and challenging and scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the trip to the North with Victoria and Rickie is coming... :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll post more soon. Promise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-326153579811449235?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/326153579811449235/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/11/ayayay.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/326153579811449235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/326153579811449235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/11/ayayay.html' title='Ayayay'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-5116402951532507246</id><published>2010-10-14T20:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-14T23:01:30.096-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sentido Común</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Rye966kfAU0?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=es_ES&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Rye966kfAU0?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=es_ES&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;De acuerdo a Einstein, el sentido común es la colección de prejuicios que adquirimos para cuando cumplimos dieciocho años. O algo así. Para mí, ya con esos años encimita, no parece ser así. Nunca me sentí la persona con el mayor sentido común del mundo, siempre tuve una forma distinta de ver el mundo. Las cosas que hacía sorprendían a otras personas como poco comunes o raras. La gente a mi alrededor podía ver que pensaba diferente. La mayoría de las veces era ridiculizado.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://akincanaforum.eponym.com/NOVA.akincana/common_20sense.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="191" src="http://akincanaforum.eponym.com/NOVA.akincana/common_20sense.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Y ahora, que tengo suficiente entendimiento para ver que no era que fuera menos sino diferente, puedo decir que siento tener los 18 años encima. No por que me sienta adulto, sino porque desde hace tiempo sentía tener esa madurez por cosas que no pude sino enfrentar. Desde que vine aquí siento que la madurez que he ganado, las cosas que he aprendido son por que yo decidí explorarlas, y porque yo decidi experimentar, descubriendo que me gustaba el resultado (o no). Encima, tengo también los privilegios que vienen por tener la tan esperada mayoría de edad. Algunas personas dicen que entre los dieciocho y los veinte todo es como un clímax, que luego de los veinte uno ya no quiere cumplir años, pero yo no lo veo así. No quiero verlo así.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Pues bien, tengo un año enfrente de mi, de más decisiones, de nuevas experiencias, de viajes y fallos y errores y aprendizaje. Y como dice Gauri, a medida que vamos creciendo seguimos cometiendo los mismos errores, en espera de aprender, pero hay cosas que como seres humanos no podemos evitar. Además, las decisiones simplemente se van volviendo más y más difíciles, pero es parte del crecimiento.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Hace algunos días me sentí en los zapatos de Nydia, platicando con Mavi, hablandole de lo igual que me parece que somos, de la forma que tengo de ver el mundo y viendo que ella se identificaba mucho con eso. Nunca imaginé que podría crecer de esa forma aquí, madurar en relación a mi forma de verme a mí mismo. Hay cosas que nunca imaginé sucederían, y bueno, resulta ser que la realidad a veces sí que superan a la ficción. Y todas esas frustraciones o esos deseos de quien me gusta, a donde voy a aplicar a la universidad, con quién quiero llegar lejos, como seguiré adelante después de dejar este lugar y qué será de mi vida en el futuro (pregunta que me persigue desde hace ya ratito) poco a poco se van mezclando en el fondo de la foto.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;En relación al sentido común, siento que tengo poco, que tengo un sentido propio de ver el mundo, que se va desarrollando poco a poco, y al que me tengo que apegar a la hora de afrontar cada desafío que viene. Y soy feliz así.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;According to Einstein, comon sense is the colection of prejudices that we bear at the time we turn eighteen. Or something like that. For me, already with those years on top, it doesn't seem to be the case. I never felt like the person with the most common sense in the world. I always had a different way of seeing the world. Things that I did surprised other people as uncommon or weird. People around me could see I thought differently. Most of the times I was ridiculed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And now, that I have enough understanding to see that it's not that I was less than others, but different, I can say I feel I'm 18. Not because I feel like a grown up, but because for a while I've felt to have that maturity for things I couldn't but deal with. Ever since I came here I feel that the maturity I've gained, the things I've learned are because I decided to explore them, and because I decided to experiment, discovering I liked the result (or not9. On top of that, I also have the priviledges that come for being "overage". Some people say that between the eighteen and the twenty years all is like a climax, that after the twenty one doesn't want to turn older, but I don't look at it like that. I don't want to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Well then, I have a year in front of me, a year of more decisions, of new experiences, of trips and failure and mistakes and learning. And like Gauri says, as we grow up we keep making the same mistakes, hoping to learn, but there are things that as human beings we can't avoid. Plus, decisions simply become more and more hard, but it's part of growth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;A few days ago, I felt in Nydia's shoes, talking to Mavi, talking to her about how alike I think we are, of the way I have of seeing the world, and seeing the she identified a lot with that. I never imagined that I could grow like that here, grow up in relation to the way I look at myself. There are things I never imagined would happen, and well, it turns out that the reality sometimes overcomes fiction. And all those frustrations or wishes of who I like, where I'm going to apply to universtity, of who I want to go far with, how will I keep on going after I leave this place and what will be of my life in the future (a question that has been following me for a while) little by little blends into the background of the picture.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;In relation to commmon sense, I feel that I have little, that I have my own sense (a "proper" sense) of looking at the world that develops little by little, and to which I have to stick to when it comes to face every challenge that comes. And I'm happy like this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-5116402951532507246?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/5116402951532507246/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/10/sentido-comun.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/5116402951532507246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/5116402951532507246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/10/sentido-comun.html' title='Sentido Común'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-4640677101279159716</id><published>2010-10-07T06:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-07T06:35:20.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>it's just a ride (?)</title><content type='html'>dios,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no sé,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no, sí se.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quiero mucho a mi familia, hay cosas que solo con ellos tengo, y por lo general me apoyan mucho en lo que quiero hacer. Confieso que a veces me pregunto hasta qué punto me empujan más por lo que ellos quisieran alcanzar en lugar de lo que yo quiero hacer, quizás es solo una concepción errada mía. Mi relación con mis hermanos (de mamá y papá) ha sido un poco irregular. Creciendo nunca fuimos tan tan cercanos, a pesar de que teniamos casi la misma edad (nos llevamos un año 4 meses cada uno). Crecimos juntos, molestábamos, pero nunca fuimos cercanos. Creo que el venir a India me acercó a ellos, y seguramente cambio las dinámicas entre ellos mismos. Lo bueno es que solo son dos, no sé que haría si fueran más. Luego mis hermanos por parte de papá.. mm no sé. A los dos los quiero mucho. El mayor, Saúl Pablo es un poco como me hubiera gustado que Saúl (mi hermano mayor de mamá y papá) fuera, pero a veces siento que tengo que encajar mucho en sus conceptos para ser bien visto. Luego el más chiquito, Joshua, es un sol, es un bebé apenas. Tiene 2 años, camina, habla, molestá, tira cosas, se rie, y te da sus abrazos y besitos con solo pedirselo. Es muy tierno. Y luego Eduardo, mi hermano chiquito por parte de mamá, a él me gustaría tenerlo más cerca. Vive en El Salvador con mis tías, y lo quiero mucho, pero me gustaría poder estar más ahi para él.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A veces mi familia me saca de quicio, como la de todos. Bien dicen que uno no la escoge. Me gustaría ser &amp;nbsp;más independiente de mis papás por muchas razones, y antes de que me juzgués por leer esto y pensar que lo hago solo por el lujo de la independencia, dejame decirte que si pensás eso no me conocés, ni a ellos. Mientras escribo esto me doy cuenta que ellos bien podrían leerlo.. pero no sé, quizás sea bueno que lo sepan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No sé, siento muy de cerca y muy de lejos a mi familia nuclear, y hablar con ellos estando aquí me produce cierta tranquilidad, pero siempre siempre me deja preocupado. Quizás por eso no tengo esa necesidad latente de estar en constante contacto con ellos. Digo, lo último que querés escuchar son problemas de tu casa cuando estás lejos, especialmente porque no podés hacer nada al respecto. Imagino que tambien es un golpe a mi imagen omnipotente de mi mismo, una vez más me doy cuenta que no lo puedo hacer todo en esta vida, por mucho que intente.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hice la distinción de la familia nuclear, porque hay gente que no es necesariamente mi familia de sangre, pero son como mi familia de verdad, aunque los vea poco. Por ejemplo mis "tías" que siempre siempre siempre siempre están ahi, pendientes, y contentas de hablar conmigo cuando sea que logramos hacer tiempo para hablar. Andrea, Carmen, Ana Liz, Emilio, está de más que lo diga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero bueno, luego de esta pequeña disgresión de mi trabajo, necesito volver a terminar ese diseño de carnet para Nydia. Ay caray, Nydia, como te quiero.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-4640677101279159716?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/4640677101279159716/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/10/its-just-ride.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/4640677101279159716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/4640677101279159716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/10/its-just-ride.html' title='it&apos;s just a ride (?)'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-4654120106523239077</id><published>2010-09-27T20:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T20:30:06.457-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fracaso, reconocimiento, esfuerzo, éxito</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-GT"&gt;[esto es de hace algunos días]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-GT"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-GT"&gt;Honestamente, no me gusta cuando pierdo una parte de la perspectiva sobre este lugar que tenía antes de venir. Cada cosa que es tan especial a simple vista aquí se convierte en mundana, común y tradicional. Creo que es aquí donde me acuerdo que el que me rechazaran dos veces al aplicar para entrar fue en realidad una ganancia. Puedo darme cuenta de estas cosas que a los ojos de muchos pasan desapercibidas, y lo que es peor, o se dan cuenta muy tarde, o no se dan cuenta nunca del valor, lo raro y lo especial de este colegio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-GT"&gt;Haber fallado flagrantemente en uno de mis exámenes recientementes es un recordatorio de que no soy perfecto ni omnipotente, y que necesito dedicarle a cada cosa el tiempo que necesita, no el que yo creo que es necesario para que lo recuerde en el examen. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-GT"&gt;Pero creo que son más las conversaciones que tengo aquí las que me van llenando de varias perspectivas sobre este lugar y sobre la vida y lo que hacemos. Y estar lleno de ellas para poder luego tomar una opinión o un enfoque hacia cómo manejo mi vida acá es una de las cosas que mas agradezco.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-GT"&gt;Hago aquí una nota para recordarme para el futuro:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-GT"&gt;NO ERES PERFECTO NI OMNIPOTENTE, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-GT"&gt;EL ÉXITO ES EL HIJO DEL ESFUERZO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-GT"&gt;La paz está dentro de ti. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-GT"&gt;Preguntate si estás dispuesto realmente a comprometerte a lograr lo que necesitás Y luego lo que querés.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span lang="ES-GT"&gt;Khristian&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-4654120106523239077?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/4654120106523239077/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/09/fracaso-reconocimiento-esfuerzo-exito.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/4654120106523239077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/4654120106523239077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/09/fracaso-reconocimiento-esfuerzo-exito.html' title='Fracaso, reconocimiento, esfuerzo, éxito'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-3197290406849947450</id><published>2010-09-17T10:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-17T10:58:19.193-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sounds of innocence and experience</title><content type='html'>This ending week has been very life changing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By talking to Gauri (a source of inspiration and wisdom that has taken the form of an IB English teacher and University Guidance counsellor) I realized a lot of things. I came to India for a reason. All the things that happened for me to get here seem almost planned now that I look back. Maybe destiny, maybe energy, maybe karma, I don't know, I don't know if I'll ever have a definite answer. It gave me a lot of peace, I felt a lot more awake, and happy afterwards. Meditation is helping as well. Now I just wake up like an hour before class and I'm super awake. And I've learned the importance of some things, like taking significant care of all of myself, not just eating and sleeping but also getting peace and rest when I need it. Now I've come to a point where I need to sit and start taking things off my back. Overworking myself, even though I've got a special passion or reason for each of the things I do and that doesn't make them feel like a load, is not helping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then another conversation with Rickie, one of my first years, I regained much of the energy and will I had to learen about the world.&amp;nbsp;Coming to India is a chance to take a travel inside yourself, augmented by the UWC experience. Just imagine, a chance where you can compare, contrast and adjust your lifestyle with so many different ways of looking at life from so many countries, and it's all happening in the culture where teachers are above god and father and mother. The place where knowledge is what brings you closer to your "higher being". The place where the spirit and the body become almost a dicotomy and at the same time parts of a whole. I feel really blessed to be here. And I discovered that being the emotional (sometimes dramatic) human being I am, I should use that energy as my trigger to follow my passions and goals instead of rationalizing. Understanding why I need to go to school was not enough to actually push me to go and do things. Experiencing and connecting what I'm learning here to what drives me and makes the world go round for me is really what has changed the way I see school. It's the way in which I can learn to improve my self understading, the way in which I can hone myself to go out and do what I love and change the world accordingly. &amp;nbsp;I felt selfish as well. This is such an expensive oportunity in many ways. The amount of time, money, effort and interest that is put in getting each of us here is amazingly big, and having that in mind I just can't see how people can go on and living a live only for themselves afterwards. It's so easy to turn that around and say that giving back is to "pay" back the scholarship we get. But it's not only about the money, you can give back in so many ways. This place depends on it. So many people could benefit by dividing all the resources spent in only ONE of us... and we're at least 200 students.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I feel like I could never give up this oportunity. And even though the time will come for us to go, as it came for our second years, it comes with the package.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for now, let's live in the present. The happy, overworked, diverse, but full of things to offer present.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-3197290406849947450?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/3197290406849947450/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/09/sounds-of-innocence-and-experience.html#comment-form' title='1 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/3197290406849947450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/3197290406849947450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/09/sounds-of-innocence-and-experience.html' title='Sounds of innocence and experience'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-8754533724662904054</id><published>2010-09-14T21:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-14T21:48:28.562-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Like a pressure cooker</title><content type='html'>Pissed, and wanting to shout, or to press myself like a button into the nothing not to be seen.&lt;br /&gt;Trying to calm, but I don't know if rationalizing will do anymore.&lt;br /&gt;I need a friend next to me. And then I have a math test.&lt;br /&gt;My calculator is gone. What am I going to do about that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the need (or want?) for someone next to me. Someone to lean on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can I stand on my own? I really wonder that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I the Co-Dependent?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holy crap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-8754533724662904054?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/8754533724662904054/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/09/like-pressure-cooker.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8754533724662904054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8754533724662904054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/09/like-pressure-cooker.html' title='Like a pressure cooker'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-8034387082885702347</id><published>2010-09-11T10:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-11T10:46:47.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Eyes</title><content type='html'>Eyes reflect fear and joy and feelings. Looking at someone's eyes will tell you a lot about them, but I think the scariest thing, is that you can't do it without giving away a bit of yourself as well. You have to open your windows completely to look inside someone else's eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days ago I stared one of my biggest fears into the eyes. It gave me nauseas, it made me scared, I even cried with the thoughts. I started writing a poem -or whatever that outpour of words can be called- and without realizing I started crying. The funny thing is that, as many other intense and strong feelings, this one was triggered because I started reading a book. It was really frightening, and I had to speak to one of my friends because of that. I figured out that I'm too much of an emotional mess sometimes, and I'm very emotional most of the time, so I needed someone who's very rational: Andrés came to the rescue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funny thing about Andrés is that he's one of the very few people I know out of whom I don't mind hearing what I don't want to (in a few ocassions): the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I finished the book I felt actually inspired to face my fears. But it implies a lot so let's see how it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not that scared to look into the eyes of that fear anymore. Or that's what I think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-8034387082885702347?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/8034387082885702347/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/09/eyes.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8034387082885702347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8034387082885702347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/09/eyes.html' title='Eyes'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-3979075340819786227</id><published>2010-09-05T04:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-05T04:26:08.404-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LIFE - Best if consumed unexpectedly</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Sometimes the things we fear to do the most are the least horrible ones in the end. I've talked about that before. But I've recently discovered that if you don't plan your life in advance too much, life will surprise you, like the butterfly that you chase and chase but always goes away, but sits on your cheek if you stay still.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I realized that thanks to someone here, both because of what he said and what he did afterwards.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I wonder if the nature of this blog will change after almost a year of life. I mean, at first it was a place where I could go on and on about how I felt, more than actual adventures it's been more of a confessionary, a diary of crises and realizations - like Ayesha would expect it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;But now I feel the need to move it on a bit, I mean, of course my dramatic and emotional self will still be there, but now that I'm comfortable here I want to make this onto something a bit more elaborate. I (and hopefully all you visitors around the world) will see how that goes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I thought 2nd year was only about having the same amount of work as the 1st year, but just that you needed to know how to handle it better. It's a bit more than that -at least academically-. So far I've been struggling a lot with that, but also with a sort of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;memento mori. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Last year I always used to say that the 2nd year is harder because you realize your days in India are counted, but actually they've been counted since before you came here, more or less 2 years is the average for most MUWCI students. Now that my feet take me around the hallways and paths of the school I feel so much more at home here, but I also don't have thoughts of how will this place be next year. I mean, I do, but not in a way that excites me to rush and experience them. Probably the school will change a lot with us gone, a few more teachers might leave this year, and oh well, there's not much we can do about it. After all it's the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;permanent&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;elements of life here which define it in the end.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;That's also why I wonder if it's actually worth fighting about little details. When we are resilient to a new rule, a new gate, a new change imposed or discussed by the headmaster, we could only be delaying the inevitable.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Now this is not my optimistical and marguerite usual self, but it's just what I think.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;"Big Jumps" I remember I sang before coming here, don't be afraid to break some bones. Now I've got another jump to make at the end of this experience (of which I have a bit less than half left), back into the West. I'll move again between the familiar and unfamiliar (with no Iron Curtain that helps define them and orient myself).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;But then again, that's what I'm doing here! I wonder if that feeling will ever go away. For now I just want it to stay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;---&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Now that school has almost a month of being back in motion I start to feel taken into its atmosphere again. I want that routine to start. (Ask me a week or two after it has and I'll tell you I hate it: but that's just me, my green, deery, artsy, unstable me.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;---&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I was reading about this author called Sylvia Plath, whose poems are quite read by teenagers in high school according to Michael. He gave us an extensive essay to read for homework, which basically describes her work in an academic way. What surprises me is that the poetry that seemed so familiar to me, so natural and normal, is described by the author as made by Plath in such a way that her feelings and interpretation of the world takes the center stage. Her feelings of death, of pain, interpret the rest of the world (if there is such) as confirmations of those feelings, or momentary breaks from them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I felt it resembled a lot to my blog. Very introspective, as Avaneesh said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;But then, if a writer doesn't write about him/herself, what should they write about? I don't want to be a silent and passive observer who describes this world and its details to you my readers, because it's just impossible for me to talk about it without imprinting the feelings it catalyzes in me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I guess I'll have to figure it out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;AND now that I remember, in my list of things to do, there's something quite important: learn to work in Art to overcome that structure and routine that has been imposed for 2nd year work. Ironically, the structure is only for us to submit 2 pieces a month and also the Research Workbook. Even something as small as that killed my passion for the subject in the past few weeks, but I think I can find a way of make it bright and interesting again - hopefully.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-3979075340819786227?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/3979075340819786227/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/09/life-best-if-consumed-unexpectedly.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/3979075340819786227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/3979075340819786227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/09/life-best-if-consumed-unexpectedly.html' title='LIFE - Best if consumed unexpectedly'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-7758334630250826524</id><published>2010-09-01T06:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-01T06:03:39.558-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I think I'll never get over it</title><content type='html'>Being away from my 2nd years is something I just have to deal with&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;finally, something in my life for which there's simply no solution, just live with it.. move on, try as hard as I did before to be happy, and smile at life, smile at a sky when it's raining and giving me disease, and don't try too much to make this an amazing year... just let it flow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i found a song today in my brother's jango which is amazingly good for me right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;green eyes by coldplay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;honey you are a rock&lt;br /&gt;upon which i stan&lt;br /&gt;and i come here to talk&lt;br /&gt;i hope you understand&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'cause i came here with a load, and it feels so much ligther now i've met you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;letting go bit by bit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;finally being myself,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it feels funny, a bit awkward, but that's how baby calves learn to run and that's how i'll learn to be myself [and happy while at it] in every sense of the word&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;green eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now it's just a matter of accepting work&lt;br /&gt;and accepting having less time&lt;br /&gt;and accepting first years bit by bit&lt;br /&gt;and accepting my second years away&lt;br /&gt;and thinking about this week only, i've done enough thinking about the future&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and singing, and crying, and walking under the rain, and talking to people, and holding back when i should, and letting go when i really should&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love from the hill&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;khristian&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-7758334630250826524?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/7758334630250826524/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-think-ill-never-get-over-it.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/7758334630250826524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/7758334630250826524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-think-ill-never-get-over-it.html' title='I think I&apos;ll never get over it'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-8221286841242197437</id><published>2010-08-26T18:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-26T18:35:35.045-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Morning Sunshine</title><content type='html'>Son las 7 de la mañana y acabo de hablar con Aury, la Nena, Elbita y Romita, y anoche Skypee una hora y media con Nydia hasta el inicio de la madrugada. He hablado con mis hermanos, mi mama, me falta mi papá, pero... esta vez me energiza más el hablar con ellos. Se siente diferente, especialmente el hablar con Nydia por Skype. Me siento como que estaba acostumbrado a que mis segundos años fueron como mis anclas en muchos sentidos y ahora que no están no puedo depender de ellos tanto como antes. De hecho es interesante, porque ahora que no están es como si me estuviera diciendo la vida que tengo que aprender a lidiarmelas sólo más a menudo al respecto de ciertas cosas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luego está el trabajo, necesito decidir si dejar o no dejar Teatro, o bajar a Math Studies, o dejar Trivenis o qué se yo. El tiempo libre no necesariamente lo voy a aprovechar mejor que si llevara todas estas cosas, entonces tengo que estar seguro de que vale la pena el sacrificio. Quizás Math Studies es más por el orgullo que por otra cosa, Teatro porque me fascina, y Trivenis porque son lo que quiero hacer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y en fin, ya se va terminando mi segunda semana en India. Los días pasan como en default por ahora. Ese sentimiento de estar vivo y de entender mejor cual puede ser mi lugar en la vida no han vuelto (quizás es por la clase de inglés):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagínate conocer a alguien con quien no podés estar, y que de entradita te parece wow. Y luego vas conociendo a esa persona un poco más y te va gustando lo que conocés. Pero otra vez, no pueden estar juntos, y encima, tampoco sabés si la otra persona siente lo mismo por vos. Esos pensamientos se mudaron a mi mente un día de estos y cada vez vienen más y más.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En la colina todo sigue girando.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-8221286841242197437?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/8221286841242197437/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/08/morning-sunshine.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8221286841242197437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8221286841242197437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/08/morning-sunshine.html' title='Morning Sunshine'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-9200802770364190825</id><published>2010-08-21T03:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-21T03:14:54.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>70 and a begginning</title><content type='html'>It's my first week back at MUWCI, and I really don't feel like writing but I think I should, otherwise I'll never do it. It's been crazy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i miss the second years&lt;br /&gt;i want to get to know the 1st years&lt;br /&gt;im hungry&lt;br /&gt;i had a ton of laundry to do&lt;br /&gt;i think i enrolled so many activities in this week so i would be busy and wouldn't have time to realize 1ns years are gone&lt;br /&gt;and.. some 1st years are cool, some are cute and some are hot&lt;br /&gt;some 1st years should pull the stick out of their asses&lt;br /&gt;the flight here was so cool and long and tiring as well&lt;br /&gt;mmmm&lt;br /&gt;i don't miss my family that much, not for now&lt;br /&gt;im concerned about work but not that much&lt;br /&gt;and uh... well it's muwci, you know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;im hungry!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's weird because it's as if second years are still in the atmosphere,&lt;br /&gt;it's similar to the aftermath of a shooting, or a natural disaster, obviously i can't compare the leave of the 2nd years with such natural disasters, but the quietness and calm everyone appears to have gives that feeling. I mean, we lost 100 of our community members during the summer, and we just sucked up to it and live up to 1st years coming, because you want to make them feel welcome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"but not a word was spoken, the church bells are were broken"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and it's also an up and down for us as well, because then you are sad or crying about a second years going, and then at night you party hard to forget that and end up having a good time with the 1st years... it's weird, i don't know if it's a healthy thing but it's what it is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-9200802770364190825?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/9200802770364190825/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/08/70-and-begginning.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/9200802770364190825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/9200802770364190825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/08/70-and-begginning.html' title='70 and a begginning'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-8939660367943675872</id><published>2010-08-12T01:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-12T01:34:27.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bye bye miss american pie</title><content type='html'>Y ya, al final de todo, no fui a México, pasé la semana aqui, sin hacer mucho, sin hacer tanto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lei, hable con algunas personas, reempaqué, en fin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero HOY... hoy HOY estOY a dos días de irme a la India. Para otro año de azucar flores y muchos colores, y claro está, la sustancia equis. Por supuesto debo ir preparado para el viaje, ropa típica de Guatemala es un "must" como diría Cosmo a sus seguidoras. Además, ropa para el frío, para el calor y para salir: playeras. Unos cuantos pantalones, ropa interior, y algunas cosas para llevar de recuerditos de Guate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero también empaco lo que m ellevo en la cabeza de mi verano maravilloso :) De ver a la gente de la Prepa, al bosque Twilight con Andrea, a el Salvador y la semana y el fin de semana con mis tías, y las salidas con Carmen y pasar tiempo con el bebé.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahora llegó la hora de volver a decir adios, pero no fue tan difícil como pensé que sería. La primera fue lo más dificil creo... todavía tengo flashbacks a veces de mí mismo sentado en ese patio pequeño diciendoles "hasta en un año" a las personas que significan algo para mí y que tambien cumplian el requerimento de estar en mi lista de contactos del celular.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Después vino el viaje, el viaje a Houston en el que estaba emocionado y un poco nervioso, el aeropuerto de Houston donde corrí para llegar a mi destino y conocí una mexicana que iba a Nueva York igual que yo. Luego vino Newark y las horas que ahí espere, donde ya no habia gente que hablaba español, sino gente que me decia que ya no estaba en mi casa, y un avión que me recordaba que volaría al continente asiático. El retumbar del enorme avión 747 que hacia temblar mis adentros y me dio la impresión de que estaba cometiendo un error grandísimo, también recuerdo eso. El viaje y lo sorprendido que estaba de haber volado por el Océano Atlántico, luego vino Londres, luego el este de Europa, el Medio Este, y finalmente Bombay. El calor, la humedad, lo confuso, y los sonidos lejanos y cercanos haciendo eco en las gigantescas lonas blancas que se extendían sobre lo que Iván llamó alguna vez un "sol con antifaz de luna".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entonces vino Anna :) Y el jeep y el viaje y el wada pav con chai y la colina y el colegio y los roomates y el resto es historia...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adios Guatemala!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-8939660367943675872?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/8939660367943675872/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/08/bye-bye-miss-american-pie.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8939660367943675872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8939660367943675872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/08/bye-bye-miss-american-pie.html' title='Bye bye miss american pie'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-1342846711842097959</id><published>2010-08-08T01:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-08T02:11:12.864-07:00</updated><title type='text'>let it come</title><content type='html'>Let the wind tell you my story&lt;br /&gt;the story of a falling trust&lt;br /&gt;the story of a broken inside&lt;br /&gt;and the story of someone trying to be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let the rain fall and break my skin&lt;br /&gt;a skin torn by stones&lt;br /&gt;a skin torn by sticks&lt;br /&gt;a skin that can't take anymore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let the fire burn my dreams&lt;br /&gt;let it spread the ashes&lt;br /&gt;let it spread them away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And let the mirror tell you who you are&lt;br /&gt;let it break you apart&lt;br /&gt;let it use the mask that covers your face&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KT Tunstall always brings me back to a point in my life I remember very very clearly: the first year I applied for UWC.&lt;br /&gt;"...if only, you could hear me now...",&lt;br /&gt;"...you're the other side of the world to me...",&lt;br /&gt;"...suddenly I see, this is what I want to be..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember I saw myself daydreaming about walking in the woods near Pearson College, experiencing the cold that I'm so fond of, and looking at the nature around, thinking of the life I'd let in Guatemala, but smiling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Now that I think back of it, I realize I always saw myself walking alone, never with other people. -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I got used not to take things for granted. Now I wonder if deep down I really choose to be alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there's also the happiness that drew smiles on my face those days, when I talked to my parents about it, to my friends, everytime I passed a stage of the selection process, everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We choose to forget the things that hurt us, I heard somewhere. I can remember exactly the brick in my stomach and how heavy it was when I found out I had been eliminated. I remember the lights on in the studio, and it's as if I could remember seeing myself from the back. Then I remember "seeing" myself telling my dad I didn't get in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But when KT Tunstall rings, those daydreams are all that come back to my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember the 2nd year less than I do remember how i felt the first time, as in like a first time love, or when you discover something - a new artist in my case for example - and then you just want to listen to them over and over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here I am, sitting in my room 2 years (plus) later laughing at what Gargee says and shows me and listening to Akash's thoughts on the 3rd term after I asked him about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It happened!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I just need to sleep, and I'll wake up in India.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-1342846711842097959?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/1342846711842097959/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/08/let-it-come.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1342846711842097959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1342846711842097959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/08/let-it-come.html' title='let it come'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-1226387715012026400</id><published>2010-08-05T16:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-05T16:13:10.645-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Visual Resistance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Design'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Infographic'/><title type='text'>What Design Means Now</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Reading yesterday about &lt;a href="http://www.visueelverzet.nl/en/"&gt;Visual Resistance&lt;/a&gt;, and talking on the phone to my teacher aunt -who used my&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://img37.imageshack.us/i/inspirationrgb.jpg/"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;infographic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;in her Citizen Formation class yesterday - it really clicked to me that design IS a political issue. More and more we can become the makers of change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Now I get more and more what Michael taught us about citizenship, about what media makes, and about how the new media are tools for change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;There's a question now... I need to start a facebook page -and most likely a blog- with my work. But I need a name! I want something that's different, and that shows people how my work is different from others. I also want a word that reflects "freshness"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I came up with Organik Design, but then what happens is that there's at least 3 other companies named like that around the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Any ideas for what I could do?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-1226387715012026400?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/1226387715012026400/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/08/what-design-means-now.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1226387715012026400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1226387715012026400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/08/what-design-means-now.html' title='What Design Means Now'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-8647174944260051173</id><published>2010-08-03T17:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-03T17:27:05.327-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Scream</title><content type='html'>When the time comes, and I hear the beats that rush&lt;br /&gt;When the time comes and I don't think of blush&lt;br /&gt;I scream, and exorcize, and remember but forget instantly&lt;br /&gt;It's something I know so well I don't have to try to remember&lt;br /&gt;I know it inside&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then the mirror reminds me of myself&lt;br /&gt;reminds me of the eyes of others&lt;br /&gt;and tries to tie me back again&lt;br /&gt;but the scream takes away it's importance&lt;br /&gt;and all I know for that instant of a second&lt;br /&gt;is the sound&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-8647174944260051173?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/8647174944260051173/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/08/scream.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8647174944260051173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8647174944260051173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/08/scream.html' title='The Scream'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-4768061883167245937</id><published>2010-08-03T17:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-03T17:39:27.957-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lluvia'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='guatemala'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poesía'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='invierno'/><title type='text'>Más que solo frío</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TFi2oQyqXKI/AAAAAAAAAG4/h7uwMlbOBm4/s1600/raindrops.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TFi2oQyqXKI/AAAAAAAAAG4/h7uwMlbOBm4/s320/raindrops.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Escuchando las vibraciones de mi interior&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;sali de las paredes hacia el mundo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;donde hacia frio, porque tenia ganas de sentirme vivo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;pequeñas dagas heladas penetraban mi piel&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;y pequeños granos de azucar negra se aferraban a mis dedos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Mi pecho aun calido de vida latia fuerte&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;sentia las cataratas de frio emanando de mis manos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;con frenesi, con locura, bajo la lluvia congelada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;que me recordaba el encierro en este mundo natural&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Murallas se elevaban y caian al compas de mis pies,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;lanzandolas a su antojo, cobrando vida propia,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;empujando con fuerza y muriendo al instante&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;entonces no consideraba, solo sentía&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Pense que exploraba el mundo con mis sentidos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;pero enrealidad viajaba los rincones de mi mente&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;a esas lineas de pensamiento que afloran de vez en cuando&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;y matamos en nombre de lo convencional&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Veia ondas y ondas en los charcos a mis pies&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;y veia circulos y esferas rebotar de los suelos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;queriendo llegar a los cielos, con sueños y no libertad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;entonces recordé lo que es sentirse vivo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Recordaba el peso que olvidás&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;cuando te quedas entre paredes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;la fuerza, las ganas, el esfuerzo, y el sufrimiento&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;tristeza que se siente como de cristal cuando estás&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;sentado bajo la lluvia, viendo caer milagros del cielo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Todos a tu alrededor, buscando que alguno pueda&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;penetrar tu consciente, y darte vida&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;pero cuando al final salis del humedo y surreal mundo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;de neutros y frios colores, entonces recordas que&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;el frio tiene gracia solo cuando estas consciente de que&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;tenes calor a tu alcance.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-4768061883167245937?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/4768061883167245937/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/08/frio.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/4768061883167245937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/4768061883167245937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/08/frio.html' title='Más que solo frío'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TFi2oQyqXKI/AAAAAAAAAG4/h7uwMlbOBm4/s72-c/raindrops.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-5120613991320482867</id><published>2010-07-29T23:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-29T23:25:48.649-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Un año</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Alguna vez les ha pasado que se ven en el espejo y se ven diferentes?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;No se hicieron nada, no se cambiaron nada, pero algo, algo algo algo detrás de los ojos como digo yo, algo cambió.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Imagínate pasar de ser alguien con quien no estabas cómodo a pasar a ser alguien con quien te sentís orgulloso de ser, y contento de ser. De que te sabes reír de tus errores, de la vida, que afrontas las pérdidas con madurez y la usual descompostura temporal, de que tus prioridades ya no son las mismas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Y en tu corazón llevás a esas personas que han cambiado tu vida -por poco tiempo que hallás pasado con ellas- y esas otras personas que están ahi siempre, más a menudo que de a poco, y a veces son tantas pero tan diferentes y unicas que uno no se olvida de ellas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Quizas es el mood que tengo hoy en dia, pero asi me sentí hoy. Pararme hoy enfrente de los salones de clase donde estudiaba el año pasado, sentado, callado, inseguro, trabajador, y luchando por lo que quería pero con miedo a alzar la voz; pararme hoy en esos lugares que antes me intimidaban y que hoy hablar sobre lo que aprendí, pensar en lo que me convertí, pensar en quien soy hoy en dia, y ver el contraste, la yuxtaposición de presente y pasado, fue como ver a contraluz dos papeles que te dan formas que nunca imaginaste: y las formas son geniales.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Y luego regresé, y me vi en el espejo, y sentí que por primera vez me vi claramente la cara. Que siempre habia estado el prejuicio, las ideas que tenia sobre como soy y como me veo, y ya no estaban. Igual y es un emotional breakthrough, y solo estoy teniendo el rush de emociones que se siente luego de eso.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Pero se siente bien.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Y es algo que no quiero perder, el recordar que en menos tiempo del que creo, con la actitud correcta, puedo ver las cosas de otra forma, y aprender y aprender y aprender y seguir viviendo una vida humana, no perfecta, siempre de un lado del sube y baja, que no puedo parar.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;But don't forget enjoy the ride.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-5120613991320482867?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/5120613991320482867/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/07/un-ano.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/5120613991320482867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/5120613991320482867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/07/un-ano.html' title='Un año'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-5790266584087416326</id><published>2010-07-27T12:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-27T12:11:20.084-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's put the cards on the table / Pongámos las cartas sobre la mesa</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; page-break-before: always;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Imagine me playing a game of cards, it's hard, it's confusing, and it takes a lot of time to think about what you're doing, because the bottom line is, you don't want to make a mistake. And then you remember, there's a ctrl + z: undo. That's the sweetest discovery you've done in your life. If you make a mistake, you can press those 2 keys, and the game goes back to how it was before you made that choice. And then after playing a while, you lose. Only to get a screen that says, you can either try another game, or press undo to unmake the moves you did. So you choose the second one, and you try, for the sake of it, to press crtl + z more than once. Your inside smiles when you see all your moves go back to a clean slate, depending on how many times you press the keys they've told you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;I think if life had a ctrl + z perhaps I would be less scared of taking decisions. Somewhere I read that Libarians are like that, we hate having to make choices, because even though we have an amazing sense of justice – which I like to think I have – we always consider both choices carefully, afraid to take the wrong one. I guess we can only make moves based on what is the actual situation of the game. Unless you pay very close attention to the deck of cards in front of you, there's only so much you can predict about what'll happen – actually, it's based on those tiny predictions that you make the choices. You look into the future. So where does the fear of making decisions come from? Mistakes will hapen to everyone, and you'll make tons and tons and tons of them in your life, the key is – as I always say to my friends or the people who ask me for advice (once in a blue moon) – to look at mistakes as learning lessons, and not just as mistakes. But what if the mistake is a huge choice of life? Like a career, or the person you want to marry, and then you hate what you're studying halfway through college, and you also divorce. You feel like crap.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Well, a lot of people &lt;u&gt;have&lt;/u&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt; made such mistakes (or worse ones) in their lives. And they didn't die. No one said you would, in the first place, but then what happes in you're alive, but your life sucks? Then.... you cope. You learn to look at it as a choice you made and was not the right one, and live your life the best you can, not looking at it as you fucked it up, but as in you make the most out of the life you have. For someone who wants to do something, there'll always be a way; and for those who don't want to, there'll always be an excuse.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="JUSTIFY" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;"&gt;The most important thing, is that this is the life. This is how life happens, and unless you actually know every strand of possibilities and their outcomes, you're likely to make mistakes. So go out there, and make decisions, don't let other people make them for you. Inform yourself as much as you can about your choices, and what they would bring. On the deck of cards example, trying to take a good look at the deck of cards before moving is wise. And play, play with passion, play with no fear. Play like there's no tomorrow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I leave you with the soundtrack for this entry:&lt;br /&gt;Los dejo con la cancion de fondo para esta entrada:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="385" width="480"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/XgEfYGzojcA&amp;amp;hl=es_ES&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XgEfYGzojcA&amp;amp;hl=es_ES&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-5790266584087416326?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/5790266584087416326/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/07/deck-of-cards.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/5790266584087416326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/5790266584087416326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/07/deck-of-cards.html' title='Let&apos;s put the cards on the table / Pongámos las cartas sobre la mesa'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-4967309434502161820</id><published>2010-07-26T02:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-26T02:52:51.067-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Algo en mis adentros</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Algo en mis adentros me grita que me tome un año (al estilo gap year).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Una idea, un trabajar por algo, unas ganas de hacer las cosas bien, pero.. por donde empezar?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Hace unos días platicando con mi hermano grande (el segundo), tuve una idea asi de -click- que me puso la cabeza a pensar y planear y emocionarme (como hago usualmente) y que me hizo sentir como si ya estuviera adulto - y tengo 17 -&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;.Me senti bien porque es una idea que puedo usar para mejorar la calidad de vida de la gente de mi pais, con un poco de esfuerzo, ademas estaría un año en Guatemala antes de irme a la U, y haria algo que me ayudaria un monton en mi curriculum. Pero... por donde empezar? Creo que al final encontre una forma de darme cuenta que si puedo usar el diseño para ayudar a las personas -gracias Infografias e infographics- y es algo que cada vez que lo pienso me quita el sueño, me emociona y me aterra a la vez: imagínate un gap year trabajando por Guatemala! wow&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Creo que lo que necesito es sentarme a pensar, sentarme a decidir, platicar con los amigos que me conocen bien, y decidir. Pensar en qué necesito, pensar en qué requerira de mi parte, a quién necesito, conocer gente con perspectivas diferentes, diferentes sistemas educativos, cosas así.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;Quizas lo que mas siento es miedo a cometer un error. Como dice Andrés, me vuelco a las cosas que me fascinan, que me apasionan, pero no quiero que ese esfuerzo sea en vano.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Por cierto, la relación con mi hermano mayor ha mejorado bastante -sorpresivamente-.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Quizás los dos maduramos, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-4967309434502161820?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/4967309434502161820/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/07/algo-en-mis-adentros.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/4967309434502161820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/4967309434502161820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/07/algo-en-mis-adentros.html' title='Algo en mis adentros'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-820220093594127442</id><published>2010-07-22T02:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T02:07:41.764-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No Tomorrow, Not Today</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I talked like there was no tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good Old Friends, who reminded me they're there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And today I started thinking about careers again. Scared as shit of making the wrong choice. I know I won't regret Graphic Design in college, but what about later? Hmm maybe Pedagogy! I've always said I'll end up as a teacher.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it all comes to the point where (because I'm filling my student recommendation forms) I &lt;b&gt;HAVE&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;to decide. Khristian, so what's it going to be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always looked at people that are so decided on what they want to be, my friend Andrés Olivares for example, he wants to do Math &amp;amp; Physics: "I've always known it". There's also Daniel Jofre (with home I had a weird relationship at school - perhaps rivalry, I don't know) who is studying Architecture, but he decided it long ago as well. Ana Liz Orantes, how to forget her, she's going to be a lovely doctor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then after the whole list of people I know that know what to do with their lives: dowwwn the line of people that are applying to college or in college already, there's me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is it about me? What do I actually like? Well I like art, maybe it's gone past behind me now that I haven't done any decent art. Oh but there's that rush in the base of my spine that reminds me how I feel after I create something I'm very fond of. Then there's also the fact that I like to help people, I like to start things, I like to lead things, I like to teach things - maybe because all of this makes me feel important. And I like to create things so people can ask "Who did it?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, maybe selfish, but hey, that's how I am, not how I chose to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. So that creative, altruistic, leaderish - selfish - me has to find something to do for a living. What in the world would that be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always thought that I could achieve anything I proposed, if I had to work with maths, then I'd push the shit out of me to accomplish it - and boy do I know what pushing myself is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm I guess there's something I did realize today, talking to a friend who now is doing Chemical Engineering, one of my previous career options: He said he wondered what would've happened if he had studied medicine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn, and that's true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There'll always be that wondering.&amp;nbsp;Maybe some Indian or Mayan rite will help me decide.&amp;nbsp;Maybe seeing Nydia in a couple of weeks.&amp;nbsp;Or they might just be of no help in this topic and once again, it all really comes down to my shoulders and the head above them: decide. Soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The change of background is because the other theme wasn't working properly anymore -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On other news, in like May I decided I would start designing the new planner for the school's next academic year. It's a lot of work, but it's nearly done now, my only problem is the freaking cover:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've done three designs, of which I like the most recent one, but there's something it lacks, any ideas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TEgI0f9OvDI/AAAAAAAAAGg/YqpwSomPYnw/s1600/Cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TEgI0f9OvDI/AAAAAAAAAGg/YqpwSomPYnw/s200/Cover.jpg" width="140" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;The first attempt - May 2010&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TEgI_LmpGTI/AAAAAAAAAGo/pcCAXg47Jrs/s1600/Cover+Final.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TEgI_LmpGTI/AAAAAAAAAGo/pcCAXg47Jrs/s200/Cover+Final.jpg" width="146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;The second attempt - June 2010&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TEgJJ0OjXzI/AAAAAAAAAGw/hU_YpUnNqkw/s1600/Blue+Cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TEgJJ0OjXzI/AAAAAAAAAGw/hU_YpUnNqkw/s320/Blue+Cover.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;The third attempt - July 2010&lt;br /&gt;(and the one I?m planning to keep&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaand based on those, there's also three back covers, with the calendars for that :P&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What else, oh yeah, I've got 2 weeks left before I leave for India again. What will I do ? Shit, maybe I don't want to leave this soon. Sometimes I do, but not right now, not today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now, it's 3 am again, and I need to sleep. Tomorrow it's going to be a long day... (sometimes I think I predispose myself).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-820220093594127442?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/820220093594127442/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/07/no-tomorrow-not-today.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/820220093594127442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/820220093594127442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/07/no-tomorrow-not-today.html' title='No Tomorrow, Not Today'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TEgI0f9OvDI/AAAAAAAAAGg/YqpwSomPYnw/s72-c/Cover.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-2425302308345013267</id><published>2010-07-15T01:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-15T02:08:21.554-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sashimi de Sirenas</title><content type='html'>Fue hace algunos minutos leyendo wallposts de mi grupo de MUWCI el año pasado que me di cuenta que gasto una cantidad muy grande de energía tratando de caerle bien a mis coaños.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y lo peor, es que no funcionaba. En algun lugar de mi mente quería caerle bien a todos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What in the fucking world (was I thinking)?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero creo que necesitaba darme cuenta de eso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quizás era por eso de tener una perfect UWC experience y tener muchos amigos asi super close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mentiras! Quienes son mis amigos ahora son mis amigos porque me quieren como soy, no porque les parezco amable. Y si quiero ser amigo de alguien pero no sé cómo... llegará el día. Y si no, hay miles de personas afuera!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oxygen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Así se siente&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y todo gracias a una canción rara que escuché en un canal que produce un exalumno de mi colegio de Guate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coincidencia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Casualidad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Destino.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lo que sea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pasó!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y he aquí la canción que sonaba mientras tanto:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sashimi de Sirenas, de Juan Sol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="405" width="500"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kfpi_v83iFY&amp;amp;hl=es_ES&amp;amp;fs=1?rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kfpi_v83iFY&amp;amp;hl=es_ES&amp;amp;fs=1?rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x234900&amp;amp;color2=0x4e9e00&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="500" height="405"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmmm tal vez tiene que ver con el Sol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naaah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lo único no tan alegre, pero humano:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me tomó 60 entradas del blog darme cuenta de eso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como dije, "humano"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-2425302308345013267?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/2425302308345013267/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/07/sashimi-de-sirenas.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/2425302308345013267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/2425302308345013267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/07/sashimi-de-sirenas.html' title='Sashimi de Sirenas'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-3367867583663331633</id><published>2010-07-11T03:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-11T21:06:34.300-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='change the world'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='uwc workshop'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='donde mi papá'/><title type='text'>Entonces?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;So, what's the point of it all?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Today, we had a UWC Workshop called "Why to do something? - Young people for a social change".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It raised a lot of questions in my head when I saw my 12th (?) year presenting all that he had done since his graduation from RCNUWC. It's as if, he's the type of person that I want to be. I'm not so sure. Helping the people with less resources, helping the environment, studying really hard to do all of this, it must be a rewarding life. What's a graphic designer to do about all of this? I can't say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;It was also damn tiring, from 7 to 7.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;But it was definitely worth it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I got the chance to present a workshop on Creativity, for which I was kind of shit-scared. Less than usual. But it was a rewarding experience overall.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Arpita has told me that the world is not changed by a revolution only, but by small things as well. I've wondered sometimes, when I felt like the world needed to revolt in order to accept something that I saw in myself, I saw that feeling come from deep inside me. Maybe I just want a revolution because of that. Yes, UWC is an amazing experience. Yes, we make amazing friends there. Yes, we learn a lot. But.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;What's the point of it all?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;I really sound like someone I dislike sometimes, asking what's the point of everything.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-3367867583663331633?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/3367867583663331633/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/07/entonces.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/3367867583663331633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/3367867583663331633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/07/entonces.html' title='Entonces?'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-4348647229342659680</id><published>2010-07-08T21:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-09T10:54:42.860-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The ponytail</title><content type='html'>Today it's  year since I cut my hear last. And in a year, many things can happen. But this is the first time I actually want to give it a try in describing in a different way.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At this point, I feel a bit numb inside, as if the real me is somewhere in there, waiting to get out through my speech. Finding my writers' voice has to do with less lying, so from now on, I'll think more about what I want to say. It's not that I lie everytime I speak either. If there's something I do in this blogpost is to write as honest as possible about how I feel. Otherwise there's no point.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now see, somewhere I read that being fake doesn't bring you many friends, duh, maybe that is my case? But I'm not fake. Yes, but you know you lie sometimes, those white lies, and those times you lie when you want to get advantage of stuff. Damn it. Khristian, now you'll count how many times you lie in a day. Jajaja, This is like the movie. Anyway.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And then there's the times when I feel that connection with people, but why the hell am I feeling alone most of the times? Why is it that I feel like that after UWC, when people makes this larger-than-life friendships... mmmm maybe it's just an adjustment process. My second year was to be like wow, and it will be, if I finish the f*cking workload I have (damn you, Extended Essay).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, the ponytail thing, I thought about it yesterday. I think it's something that gives me a signature, a personality. It's not a generic good old fashioned short hair anymore. That's why I like it. But the cool thing, is that it took a whole year to be there, and that takes effort, patience, and putting up with damn horrible heat waves at MUWCI. It's representative I think, of what I learned, and what I grew as a human being there. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And, you, what is your ponytail?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That sounds like those pep talk blogs, "Find your ponytail, it's there inside you".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Moats and boats and waterfalls".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-4348647229342659680?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/4348647229342659680/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/07/ponytail.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/4348647229342659680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/4348647229342659680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/07/ponytail.html' title='The ponytail'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-7638890816685914190</id><published>2010-07-02T02:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-02T02:31:15.531-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Alone</title><content type='html'>"He's afraid of dying alone"&lt;div&gt;"Killing loneliness"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Truth is, I like being alone"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Oh soledad, dime cuándo un día habrá,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;entre tu y el amor buena amistad"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Vuelve conmigo a dibujar las olas del mar. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No dejo entrar a las personas. Las dejo entrar hasta la distancia que me es cómoda a mí. Lo cual es normal, pocos hacen algo con lo que no se sienten cómodos. Pero... hay quienes sí dejan entrar personas. Yo no bajo la guardia. Por qué? La bajo falsamente para acercarme a algunas personas? O será que solo me engaño sobre el hecho de creerme engañar?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Quiero bajar esa guardia. Estar solo es más fácil, así es como siempre ha sido, desde pequeño. Las personas ven sólo el lado que yo controlo que vean de mí. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-7638890816685914190?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/7638890816685914190/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/07/alone.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/7638890816685914190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/7638890816685914190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/07/alone.html' title='Alone'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-8913632283409786870</id><published>2010-06-24T19:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-24T20:14:55.075-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Por mi cuenta</title><content type='html'>Hoy recibí mis reportes y notas, fue un sentimiento de mmmmmm bueno, la verdad ya sabía lo que iba a recibir en cierta forma. La verdad aprecio el resultado de algunas de mis clases, es el esfuerzo recompensado diría yo. Tengo miedo porque en el fondo sé que no voy a poder hacer todo lo que quiero hacer en mi segundo año. Pero me miento, hago planes y planes que nunca se hacen realidad más que en preocupaciones. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Las notas, COLOR, los extracurriculares, la universidad, arte, los amigos, la familia, los viajes, las noches cocinando, tantas cosas .......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pero creo que lo que más sentí fue lo mucho que estoy solo, por mi cuenta. Me guste o no.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Con o sin alguien a la par, tengo ese sentimiento de estar solo. Me gusta esa especie de libertad, pero creo que resiento no tener a alguien a la par conmigo para todo lo que hago. ¿Debería comprometerme a estar con alguien de manera que no consultemos la opinión del otro antes de tomar las decisiones?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Demonios.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Soy malo para las relaciones, sólo creo que sé pasar esa fase primera, para el resto... no sé, a veces funciona, como con Nydia, somos exactamente lo que el otro necesitaba a su alrededor pero nunca nos dimos cuenta, solo hasta que todo se acababa. Otras veces me intento hacer necesario, ofreciéndo ayuda, y no funciona (como con cierto amigo mexicano). Pero la mayoría de las veces soy yo quien busca a las personas, nunca me buscan, a no ser que necesiten algo. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Y luego están los amigos que tengo desde hace muucho tiempo, que los quiero mucho, que no olvido, pero que ya no sé si puedo tenerlos tan cerca como quisiera. ¿Será que yo aparto a las personas?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;¿Será que no dejo entrar a las personas? Pero si me gusta abrirme a ellas. O... momento, me gusta abrirme a las personas? A veces quizás solo les cuento cosas para parecer más interesante, mmmmm falta de autoestima? No sé.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;También están los amigos a los que les pregunto como están y a veces si me preocupo por ellos (quizás más de lo que debería) y ellos no dan bola tampoco.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;¿Sabés que Khristian? Creo que así son las personas, las relaciones con los demás no funcionan todas iguales. Nos guste o no.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cierro los ojos, y deseo fuerte fuerte así hasta con la piel eriza que logre cumplir todos mis planes y metas para el segundo año. Quiero irme con un sentimiento de satisfacción, tristeza, y... energía, para la vida.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-8913632283409786870?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/8913632283409786870/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/06/por-mi-cuenta.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8913632283409786870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8913632283409786870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/06/por-mi-cuenta.html' title='Por mi cuenta'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-1757949794820868182</id><published>2010-06-20T02:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-20T02:57:02.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'>El medio tiempo</title><content type='html'>As the year reaches its half, i got the feeling of having completed a cycle, which was pretty much ignited by my visit to my old school yesterday.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm starting to wonder whether it makes sense to help the world, in an in and out cycle of thinking it does make sense.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm starting to wonder whether that passion will be doused by the time I reach MUWCI back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm wondering if I should actually follow my passion (or is it what i've made a passion of?) and be a graphic designer. Maybe I should give myself room to try other things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss sitting outside my house's floor, and write there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm wondering about the future, about seeing people twice a year. (Not that i don't have relationships like that right now).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I realized my mother's love for me more than ever by looking at an old msn conversation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm thinking more about the decision between what i want and what i should do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm thinking of starting to work sometime soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm thinking about whether i should change my MUWCI lifestyle based on this year's outcomes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm wondering whether I'm letting the mermaids drag me down.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Did I ever get out of wonderland?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/axYv1SLunmE&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/axYv1SLunmE&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0&amp;amp;color1=0x3a3a3a&amp;amp;color2=0x999999" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-1757949794820868182?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/1757949794820868182/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/06/el-medio-tiempo.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1757949794820868182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1757949794820868182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/06/el-medio-tiempo.html' title='El medio tiempo'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-1829857957932075092</id><published>2010-06-11T20:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-11T20:21:47.505-07:00</updated><title type='text'>El Salvador / The Savior</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Curiosamente, es el nombre del país donde estoy, donde tengo familia, y en el mismo lugar donde tuve una lección sobre religión, sobre Dios, sobre mi familia.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Ayer, pase lgunas horas en el interior de un carro por algunas horas esperando a alguien, y entonces comencé a probar estaciones de radio buscando algo para no aburrirme. Entonces encontré una prédica que estaba siendo transmitida y me llamó la atención que se trataba sobre "cambiar nuestra visión del mundo". Bueno, pues el pastor comenzó a hablar de cómo hay jóvenes que tienen problemas de depresión (ridiculizando la idea un poco), y como tenemos que cambiar nuestra forma de hacer las cosas. Puso el ejemplo de un muchacho de 22 años que le escribió un correo, el chavo tenía una vida "muy buena" (de acuerdo a el) porque tenia buena salud, buen fisico, iba a mediados de su carrera universitaria, pero hablaba de que el chico tuvo una vida de "lujuria" siendo promiscuo, y resultó contagiado de VIH. Y que ahora el chico queria estar mas cerca de Dios.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15.6px; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Luego el pastor prosiguió a decir que a veces creemos que porque alguien en nuestra familia cree en Dios, que porque alguien en nuestra familia tiene una Biblia uno también está bendecido.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;-- Justo aquí comencé a quedarme asqueado, (quizás fue un poco exagerada mi reacción, pero es la verdad) porque hablaba de alguien, un muchacho de 22 años, que se contagió de VIH por pecar de "lujuria". Ese pastor estaba hablando a una multitud de personas que repetían lo que el les pedía que repitieran, asi fuera la palabra "calzoncillos", y habiendo tocado un tema tan importante como el VIH en un joven, ni siquiera decide subrayar la tan fichada lección de moral, sino salta a decir que todo en la vida depende de si tenemos esperanza o no. Nada de educación sexual, nada de "jóvenes esto es posible", nada de "sean responsable": todo era, para cuando las cosas están mal, Dios está ahi. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Luego, e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;scuchando hablar a mi mamá, mi tía y mis primas hablar sobre Dios, sobre símbolos masónicos, y sobre cosas de religión, me quedé pensando en qué es exactamente lo que creo. ¿Por qué será mi conflicto con el cristianismo? ¿Por qué será mi conflicto con la forma en que se hacen las cosas dentro de la religión? Bueno, que nunca fui muy amigo de seguir las reglas en ese sentido... pero, no sé. Bastante es ya mi conflicto con mi mamá sin hablar al respecto. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-1829857957932075092?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/1829857957932075092/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/06/el-salvador-savior.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1829857957932075092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1829857957932075092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/06/el-salvador-savior.html' title='El Salvador / The Savior'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-8684414840426075762</id><published>2010-06-07T09:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-07T09:38:39.681-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It Clicked</title><content type='html'>In the end, i think i got used to living here. I talked to my mother about my whole not-adapting period. I met my first year yesterday! Things are falling into place I think... now it's just work left, but I'll to do it thinking positive. Hopefully.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok, I think it's a wrap-up I guess for this year. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll write... soon I think. Whenever something pops.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-8684414840426075762?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/8684414840426075762/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/06/it-clicked.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8684414840426075762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8684414840426075762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/06/it-clicked.html' title='It Clicked'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-1872873503853741360</id><published>2010-06-01T08:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T09:07:11.584-07:00</updated><title type='text'>De las notas, el inglés, el español, y lo que pienso.</title><content type='html'>Alguna vez entre las primeras entradas que escribi de este blog (que se ha vuelto casi diario o bitacora de viaje) creo que mencioné que escribia en el idioma en que me salía. Esta es la primera vez que de hecho fuerzo el idioma para escribir. Porque queria escribir en inglés, pero creo que eso se debe a alguna clase de mecanismo de defensa, donde escribo en el idioma que no se habla en el ambiente donde estoy, para evitarme el que alguien cercano lo pueda leer.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;En india, en español, o a veces en inglés, dependiendo qué tan cómodo me sienta con lo que estoy escribiendo. En guate, en inglés, porque sé que alguien lo puede leer. Pero es medio estúpido también... jaja porque igual, aca lo estoy &lt;i&gt;publicando: &lt;/i&gt;lo estoy poniendo en el internet para que sea leido.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Quizás el hecho de pensar que tengo toda la razón, y que lo que aprendi allá me deja entender por completo a esta sociedad es un hecho de exageración de mi parte. Sí, aprendí cosas, pero no aprendí todo el conocimiento del mundo. Debo aprender a cerrar la boca. jajajajajaja justo ahora me hizo click que fue lo mismo que dije que tenia que aprender en MUWCI. Algunas cosas sí que no cambian. A ver... y qué no cambió en mi?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eso es una, segundo... el ser convencionalmente desorganizado, es decir, el que yo entiendo como me organizo aunque para el mundo sea un desastre, y asi mismo aunque sean poco convencionales, a veces encuentro formas de hacer las cosas que de otra forma no sé como hacer (y eso es algo que critico de mi mamá ahora que lo pienso). Pienso que quizás mi período de extrañar MUWCI fue pequeño, o quizás está en pausa.. no sé&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gracias Clare por Bon Iver.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-1872873503853741360?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/1872873503853741360/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/06/de-las-notas-el-ingles-el-espanol-y-lo.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1872873503853741360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1872873503853741360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/06/de-las-notas-el-ingles-el-espanol-y-lo.html' title='De las notas, el inglés, el español, y lo que pienso.'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-6679119264647386099</id><published>2010-05-31T18:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-31T18:10:54.192-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back "home"?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Oh my god.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;I came to my father’s house today, finally, after almost a week of being here in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;Guatemala&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;. Fuck my life. Some things changed so much… the house, my baby brother, who lives with whom, and some things are still the same, the rest of my family for example.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;It feels weird to be back here after living here for so long before leaving. It’s like the whole structure of their lives is without me now. My baby brother didn’t recognize me. All of my books were put away… boxes with my stuff as well. Going through them I had the most amazing memories of life before MUWCI. Had I forgotten all of that?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;It’s weird.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;I guess… I guess MUWCI has become my home now. Home away from home now. But wait, things changed there as well… am I homeless now?&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;I think weird is the best way to put this week: Getting used to live with my mother again, the fights with my family, the tropical storm, and the volcano, and the small earthquake that happened. Seeing everyone again. Sitting on the same places where I used to sit. Wow…&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;And then, I find myself writing in English again. Is it to shield myself? Quizás.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language:EN-US"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;I think the house changed as much as me. I feel… displaced, exactly what I was fearing, or at least the house is telling me that. I know that I’ve got no place in their daily routines. Maybe I do in their hearts and minds, but not in their routines anymore.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;***&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;I sit in the same corners and places where I used to spend hours. It’s all gone. But it’s a rewarding feeling in some way. It shows me that what I struggled for came true. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-6679119264647386099?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/6679119264647386099/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/back-home.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/6679119264647386099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/6679119264647386099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/back-home.html' title='Back &quot;home&quot;?'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-7875109645761695599</id><published>2010-05-27T11:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-27T11:37:51.734-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Summer Break</title><content type='html'>Now that I'm out of my dear Wonderland, the place I learned to love and that intertwined itself into my daily life so much that the way I see the world is based on a huge scale in what I learned there, I miss it so much.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But it's a bit pointless to miss the MUWCI I left. It will not be the same when I go back in August. My second years will not be there. And before I get too melodramatic, I should remind myself that I have to laugh about me once in a while. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My mom already gave me a warning that if I don't go back to "normality", if I don't change my attitude, she won't send me back to India. Some love huh. I really don't get her sometimes. She says she doesn't care about things that she throws back at me later. She says she doesn't mind me being there because it's for my future, but she gave me this sentence. Dammit. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I haven't had much interaction with my father so far for me to talk about how bad/good/different it is to live with him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss Nydia, her comments, her way of thinking. I'm sick of this bubble, and it's only been a few days. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I miss Naoko's jokes, and talking to Afsha, and talking at night with Turoo, and seeing Omer and Paula walk in and out the house, and Bethany and Ayesha in their house, going crazy with work once in a while... damn.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What the hell will I do the whole summer?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is now that the goodbye starts seeming real.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Looking myself in the mirror I can really tell I changed. Not just my appearance, but the way my eyes work. The way I understand the world. The colors, and the thoughts that work like x.rays or something.. reminding me where the things I buy might come from, what it means to buy them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even the weather is sad, rainy, grey. I love cold, but I miss the heat... the heat of the hill.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-7875109645761695599?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/7875109645761695599/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/summer-break.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/7875109645761695599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/7875109645761695599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/summer-break.html' title='The Summer Break'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-2959759865002646657</id><published>2010-05-26T11:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T11:11:57.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Para quién yo era</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Ayer fue un día raro. Fui de compras con mi familia y… alagran! Son burgueses! :S Mis hermanos me parecen más caqueros que nunca, mi mamá trabaja y trabaja, y ahora vive mejor. Me dijo que el que yo me fuera fue el motivo de que quisiera trabajar tanto. Mi papá sigue igual… mi viejo. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Al principio pensé que ellos habían cambiado. Pero Marcial me ayudó a entender que soy yo quien los percibe asi ahora, no es que hayan cambiado ellos, yo cambié.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;La fiesta de bienvenida fue rara, con gente que estaba acá más por que mi mamá los había invitado, yo hubiera preferido tener una cena con mi familia nada más.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Tengo que hablar con mi mamá al respecto, quiero hablar con ella de muchas cosas.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Mis hermanos… no sé, siguen igual que siempre.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;Ayer me sentía atorado, me sentí derrotado y un poco estúpido, usando zapatos formales, una camisa, un suéter, un gorro porque tenía el pelo largo, jeans nuevos. Puaj.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Prefiero andar con el pelo largo y suelto, descalzo, con mi ropa hippie y holgada. Si, definitivamente cambié. Soy el segundo año guatemalteco de la India. Dios.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Ahora quiero dibujar, pero no tengo ánimos. Creo que voy a ir a dar una vuelta a la colonia, a perderme, a ver qué tal funciona todo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-2959759865002646657?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/2959759865002646657/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/para-quien-yo-era.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/2959759865002646657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/2959759865002646657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/para-quien-yo-era.html' title='Para quién yo era'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-4256638098249554810</id><published>2010-05-26T11:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T11:10:40.204-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Crónicas de aeropuertos.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;23 de Mayo de 2010&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Aeropuerto de Bombay. Sala de espera. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;Estoy nervioso. Estresado.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Estamos en el aeropuerto, con Luigi, Javier, y otras personas. Odio los aeropuertos. Me despedí de todos en el colegio en la mañana, hablé con personas que quería demasiado, hablé con personas que no había hablado nunca en el bus de Bombay. Yaara es demasiado increible. Me gustaría haber hablado más con ella.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;9.23pm&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Hable con Luigi, creo que ya estoy un poco más tranquilo. No me gusta este aeropuerto. Tengo miedo, creo que debería haber impreso ese boleto. Pero aparte, como dice Ayesha, tengo que reirme de mí mismo de vez en cuando. Jennyfer se fue hace ratito. Cómo la quiero, fue bastante buena conmigo, aunque fui adoptado, o quizás porque fui adoptado. Quién sabe.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Estar sin música es raro. Creo que fue bueno que perdiera el celular, estaría lleno de canciones en la cabeza ahorita si no lo hubiera perdido.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Quedan Javier, Sung Hee, Jay, Fannesse, Hiyasmin, y también quedamos Luigi y yo. Mierda. Pensar en Wada 4, pensar en Wada 3, Wada 2, Wada 1, el AQ, la Caf, la querida escuela que aprendí a amar. La voy a extrañar. Pero ahora, solo quiero llegar a latinoamérica. Quiero llegar a México. Quiero llegar a Guatemala. Quiero que se acabe, pero no me quiero despedir de Luigi. Ahora… creo que solo me queda esperar, otra vez.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Es increible que haya pasado un año desde la primera vez que me senté a escribir en esa sala, la mañana antes de irme. Comencé una nueva vida, una nueva forma de ver el mundo. Una nueva forma de pensar en las cosas, y en el mundo. Ahora solo me da miedo volver a casa. Por raro que suene, sí, tengo miedo.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Hace ratito reempaqué, y todo está mas ordenado ahora en la maleta.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Tengo a ambos lados míos a dos personas que no sé cuándo en la vida volveré&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;ver.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Se está acabando poco a poco.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Justo ahora, oyendo a The Noisettes, recuerdo con Hiyas Project Week, hace ya dos meses que pasamos esa maravillosa semana juntos. Hace 6 meses apenas que fui a Sirsi, hace 5 que trabajé en Savalee, y hace 7 que conocí Bombay. Hace 9 meses exactamente que me fui de Guatemala… solo nueve meses. Wow. Una vida pasada en 9 meses. Y falta una más. Ahora sólo lo que me falta es… asimilar todo lo que aprendí, sobrevivir el cambio de ambiente. Y estaré bien. Creo.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;No me gusta tanto este aeropuerto. Siempre me pongo ansioso. Fue aquí donde conocí a Anna. Ella vino a traerme :) El aire acondicionado, las innumerables sillas vacías de gente que no pudo pagar las 60 rupias para poder entrar: antes las hubiera visto solo como sillas vacías, o no, quizás sí hubiera considerado eso, no sé exactamente. Ahora… qué más. Sí, el estar sentado pegado a una columna con una barra de acero que se entierra en mi espalda. El pensar en esa cálida bienvenida y toda la gente que me espera. La comida carísima que venden aquí. Mi dolor de pie, por estar sentado en el piso demasiado tiempo. Creo que bien podría pasar unos meses sin estar en MUWCI por ahora. Pero apenas me fui hoy. Veremos qué pienso en una semana.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;El día se fue rápido. Difícil, triste, solo queda lo cansdo. Y claro está, lo feliz.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Quisiera tener mi celular para poder tomar fotos de este lugar. Me gustó tomar fotos en los aeropuertos. Eso me recuerda que no debería preocuparme de perderme, después de todo, están diseñados para que uno no se pierda. Hmm… cierto. Debo reirme de mí mismo más seguido. Te quiero Ayesha.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Quiero irme. Ya. Pero no quiero irme. No. O si? Maldita mezcla de sentimientos. Necesito a Valéria Piassa Polizzi! SI, la necesito. O solo creo que la necesito… hmm. Demonios.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Me pregunto como me sentiré cuando esté en el estado de Hiyasmin, cuando sólo me queden algunas horas en India. Dios. Eso me va a costar aceptarlo. Mierda. Pero igual, sé que mis días acá están contados, me guste o no. Y ahora que lo pienso, igual en la Tierra. Todos tenemos los días contados. Por eso debo vivirlo al máximo. Gracias MUWCI por enseñarme eso. Un beso.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;24 de Mayo de 2010&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;9.50am (India)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Luego de una locura de cosas que hacer en el aeropuerto de Bombay, entre que me dejaran entrar, con el peso de las maletas, que si era una handbag, que si tambien incluía estuche de la laptop, ir al duty free y admirar lo barato de los licores, hasta caminar con James y que nos contara su incidente con el tipo de migración, y los condones que tenía en su bolsa, y también su posterior momento incómodo con su señora madre. Luego, comimos KFC, cambiamos unas rupias por dolares, le cambié unos shillings (moneda de Kenya) a James, y al final, como&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;a las 2.20 de la mañana nos despedimos. Estaba yo hasta la madre del aeropuerto de Bombay, solo quiero irme a mi casa, a dormir.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;A propósito de dormir, el avión de Luftansa no está tan bueno como lo pintó Luigi cuando me habló de la aerolínea, solo está bien. En el catálogo que esta en el vuelo te venden hasta ositos de peluche con una playera de Lufthansa, que cuestan 38 euros. El tipo que se sintó a la par mía en este vuelo se ve simpático, quizás un poco raro porque sigue viendo sobre mi hombro, viendo el español sin entenderlo, señalando la ciudad que mencioné en la última oración del párrafo anterior Volviendo a lo de dormir, he dormido muy mal acá, el espacio es demasiado poco, y las tres o cuatro veces que dormí, soñé con MUWCI, con despedidas. Quizás es eso lo que tengo… el efecto colateral de despedirme de tanta gente que se ve reflejado en mi sueño.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Una hora más de vuelo (esperamos) y llegamos a Frankfurt. Luego, espero otras 7 o 6 horas, y mi vuelo de 11 horas para la Ciudad de México comienza, culminando en esperar dos o tres horas ahí, y un pequeño vuelo de dos horas para Guatemala &lt;span style="font-family:Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-hansi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-char-type: symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings"&gt;J&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Llevándome a mi destino final. Coño. Me palpita fuerte el corazón pensando en eso.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Estos alemanes tienen su sistema para hacer las cosas, las aeromozas son las menos simpáticas que he visto en mi vida, rubias, serias, maquilladas, alemanas en fin.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;12.23pm (India)&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;8.53 (Alemania)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Al fin se acabo el primer vuelo, estamos ya en el aeropuerto de Frankfurt. Alemania no me gusta. Todos tienen un sistema para hacer todo, no me gustan como suena el idioma, no me gusta como son todos fríos, las casas vistas desde el cielo todas ordenaditas, las auropistas rectas, todo en perfecto orden y siguiendo un sistema. Y no digamos lo que cuestan las cosas! Un bote de Pringles : 4 Euros. Dios! Si alguna vez vengo a Europa de viaje y no de tránsito tendré que traer muucho dinero, a no ser que me quede en casa de Nuria o de Krista, que es lo que planeo hacer.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Ahora, solo queda esperar a que el vuelo de Luigi se vaya, él va a abordar a las 10.55, y su vuelo se va a las 11.40. Yo abordo el mío hasta la una y media, así que me quedo solo esperando aquí, con los alemanes, y quizás (cruzo los dedos) algún latino buena onda que conozca en el vuelo.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;El aeropuerto de Frankfurt es minimalista, es todo granito, con grus, blanco, negto, azul oscuro, y los colores de las aerolíneas en las respectivas puertas. Lufthansa es innmensa aca en Alemania, la cantidad de vuelos que tienen conexión solo en este aeropuerto es increible. Un pude contar todas las flechitas que salían de este punto en el mapa que tenía la revista.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Ahora, me queda esperar, otra vez.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; Bombay e India comienzan a parecer más lejanas. Tan lejos y a la vez tan cerca como le dije a Luigi. Extraño a Nydia. Ella me diría dramático, pero me molestaría con eso. &lt;span style="font-family:Wingdings;mso-ascii-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-hansi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-char-type:symbol;mso-symbol-font-family:Wingdings"&gt;J&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Ya quiero dormir y dejar de soñar con MUWCI.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;Me siento como raro. Sabiendo que voy de vuelta, pero que también vuelvo, y que deje MUWCI y que no voy a volver a ver muchos de mis segundos años (si no es que a casi todos), no estoy tan triste como pensé que estaría. Solo quiero ir a mi casa. A dormir. No quiero estar en este aeropuerto. Quizás no es que no me gusten los aeropuertos, no me gusta el de Bombay. Por cierto, acabo de ver a una chica que juro que se parecía a Yanna, o mi mente me dijo eso. En India vi chicas parecidas a Nandini, a Anuradha, a Arpita. Las extraño. No me despedí de Afsha. Mierda. Sigo viendo a MUWCI en tocas partes.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Ahora solo quiero cambiarme, y dormir.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;3.18pm (India) 11.16am (Alemania)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Me despedi de Luigi hace un rato. Creo que no me había pegado que MUWCI se terminó porque todavía estaba con él. Se terminó mi primer año. Ahora, tengo que esperar dos horas y media en este aeropuerto, solo, solo en Alemania. Deja de llamar la atención! Deja de sentirte solo, estás en Alemania. Por eso es que no me gustan los aeropuertos, pero sobreviviré.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;4.44pm (India) 1.14pm (Alemania) 4.14am (Guatemala)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Entré al área de espera para el vuelo hacia México. Finalmente!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;La vista de los hilos de humo que dejan los aviones es increible, estoy sentado frente a una ventana que me deja apreciar la vista del avión, y el cielo despejado en el aeropuerto de Frankfurt. Extraño a Nydia, viajar con ella sería divertidísimo.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Luego…. 12 horas más y estaré en la Ciudad de México, mas tres horas de espera, y tres horas de vuelo hacia Guatemala, y estaré en casita. Quizás una o dos horas más si cuento el esperar a mi familia, pero tengo fe en que van a estar ahí.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;8.41 pm (India)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Luego de casi un día entero de estar viajando (bueno, por algunas 5 horas más) estoy llegando a hartarme. Los alemanes, sus aeropuertos, y esta aerolinea están de la patada. Me vomito en ellos. Todos tienen su sistema de hacer las cosas y solo eso siguen. Para eso, prefiero a los gringos, donde el cliente siempre tiene la razón.. jajaja&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Estamos a 32,000 pies sobre el nivel del mar. Puedo ver el océano a través de la ventana, cubierto con nubes. 8 horas más y llego a México.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Daddy, I’m coming home ♫♪&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;25 de mayo de 2010 3.20am&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Estoy en casa.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Cansado, agotado.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Comi… vi a mis tías, les di sus regalos, comieron, se quedaron un rato y se fueron.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Mi mama, mis hermanos, mi papa, todos siguen igual… extraño MUWCI. Estoy feliz de estar acá, pero extraño MUWCI.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;Y con esto.. luego de tantas horas de vuelo hasta México, pasear en el aeropuerto, comprar comida y otras cosas, dormirme en el vuelo de México para Guatemala, pasear en el aeropuerto… y todo lo demás, se acaba el primer año de MUWCI. Queda uno. Mas intenso todavía.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;Por ahora.. tengo el verano delante.&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-4256638098249554810?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/4256638098249554810/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/cronicas-de-aeropuertos.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/4256638098249554810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/4256638098249554810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/cronicas-de-aeropuertos.html' title='Crónicas de aeropuertos.'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-990875729892772807</id><published>2010-05-22T15:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-22T15:44:48.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Somewhere over the rainbow</title><content type='html'>Blue birds fly.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hoy ha sido un día intenso. La graduación, la cena, el postre, las despedidas comienzan. Quiero cerrar los ojos y que se acabe. Mañana en la mañana son las ultimas despedidas con los segundos años. Espero que se acabe rápido. Voy a llorar. Seguramente,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-990875729892772807?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/990875729892772807/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/somewhere-over-rainbow.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/990875729892772807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/990875729892772807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/somewhere-over-rainbow.html' title='Somewhere over the rainbow'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-3967966194191556663</id><published>2010-05-20T10:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-20T11:38:47.616-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It all ends here.</title><content type='html'>I just want it to be over. I just want that those goodbyes, those hellos, that flight are over as soon as possible. I want everything to be over. Close my eyes and open them and be home. Without goodbyes, just having this as a dream that ended before becoming depressing.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-3967966194191556663?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/3967966194191556663/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/it-all-ends-here.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/3967966194191556663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/3967966194191556663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/it-all-ends-here.html' title='It all ends here.'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-8886022081907219845</id><published>2010-05-19T12:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-19T12:34:47.978-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dias</title><content type='html'>Es lo que queda para que me vaya. Ya las cosas van tomando forma para el otro año. Pienso mucho si debería volver o no. Nunca pensé encontrarme en esta situación. Quizás es solo el juego con las ideas, más que la consideración seria de las ideas de lo que quiero hacer. Tiene que ver con la wada donde voy a vivir el otro año, y como me siento en relacion a los demás aquí, y como siento o no siento encajar, y lo que esperaba y lo que es, y como cambian las cosas. Será que todos pasan por esto también?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Y ahora, con tan poquitos días antes de irme... dios. No lo puedo creer. Vuelos y vuelos y cosas y agh... agh agh agh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-8886022081907219845?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/8886022081907219845/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/dias.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8886022081907219845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8886022081907219845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/dias.html' title='Dias'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-1782840933399138460</id><published>2010-05-18T11:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T11:49:56.440-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blowing the week away</title><content type='html'>Time lack. Time want. Time chahiye!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today is the end of tuesday, damn it, 5 days more left in MUWCI.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want to study, but then I need time, and then I also need to work on other stuff, with the second years, and with the coyears, and the bags, and packing, and shopping, and everything else.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;:(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In less than a week I'll be home though. I don't know what to feel anymore. Confused. Overworked. Last week in MUWCI as a 1st year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-1782840933399138460?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/1782840933399138460/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/blowing-week-away.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1782840933399138460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1782840933399138460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/blowing-week-away.html' title='Blowing the week away'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-6264996555105086414</id><published>2010-05-13T01:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-13T01:40:54.853-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Narcisist I?</title><content type='html'>Yes, I've begun to think so. But I think I also need to accept it a little bit more. Did I chose my design because I wanted &lt;b&gt;my&lt;/b&gt; design to be the one second years would get? Did I ask to design the planner because &lt;b&gt;I &lt;/b&gt;wanted to be the one to do it? &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe designers are selfish. Maybe I am the only selfish. Am I the only selfish person that I know? Maybe not. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But... is it human nature? Is it the compensation of me having low self-esteem in the past? Is it my way of going around?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't complain, I'm a human being. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, the question is. When will I accept it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-6264996555105086414?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/6264996555105086414/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/narcisist-i.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/6264996555105086414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/6264996555105086414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/narcisist-i.html' title='Narcisist I?'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-3949949942294384092</id><published>2010-05-12T21:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-13T01:37:22.868-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aftermath one step closer to the end</title><content type='html'>Well, the tests came and the tests left. I think it went well. Could have gone better. But it's done!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I can't sleep, I wake up thinking of economics, or of someone telling me to go to Paud with someone else, because apparently we became friends. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was going through my diaries of the months before I started the blog. August through October, everything's there. The rush of emotions, the flashbacks, the pictures, everything remains there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bombay airport. 9pm. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was about to open the doors and exit into the night air when the sight surprised me, the white canvases on the air, and then: Nydia was right. "Take a breath of fresh air before you get out, the heat is intense". The shirt on my back and my thick jeans told me so. Pushing my baggage through the arrival area, with so many people waiting, with signs, for people they didn't apparently know. Where was my second year? Who was coming to pick me up from Bombay airport?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I go, and I find a telephone booth. Big, blue, with a yellow sign, two or three old telephones, and a smiling lady. Luckily, I have the acceptance letter from the school with the telephone number on it. I call, so many numbers... strange. Someone with an accent similar to the guy in the airport (i.e. almost unintelligible) tells me to call to the driver's telephone. He gives me another really long telephone number. I hang, and I tell the lady on the booth that I need to call again. I pay her for the first call, and I take the telephone to call to the cellphone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hello, I'm Khristian from Guatemala, and I'm at the airport, where are you now?" "5 to 10 fdjklasjfda" "What??" "5 to 10 fdhajkld" "Dios... "Ok, fine fine"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hang and I go near the parking lot, by the telephone booth with my bags. "Where are they?" "What did I get myself into...?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I go, and by an Iced Tea from the Lipton stand in the airport. A lot cheaper than in the U.S., though I still don't know exactly how much. Then I go by the telephone booth, and I see the guy that sold me the juice that is walking out of the stand, and he's barefoot. A bunch on Indian people are sitting by the stand and looking at me. It's as if they knew I'm lost. Then someone offers me a ride. No.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Finally, I ask the lady to call the driver and talk to him in "Hindi". She, very nicely, agrees after a bit of persistence from me. I give her the number, and she then hangs and tells me: "He'll be here in 5 to 10 minutes". Glory! So I pay her I think 50 or 100 rupees of the joy :) and as courtesy because she helped me. She refuses to accept them. But I insist more. She takes it. Thats what angels are for.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Finally, I wait for a while, and I see this girl with short hair, skinny, with colored clothes that comes by and opens an old sign that says "The Mahindra United World College of India" smiling, I think hoping that it would be me. And yes! It's me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She tells me her name after approaching me in a weird accent. Her name's Anna. She says something but I still don't get it very well. We go around finding the driver.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We find him after searching a while... we are now in the lower level of the parking lot, passing in between cars and cars, and I see it, amongst a thousand others, a big, grey jeep with the logo of the school in one of the windows. I opened the back and put my bag onto it. Anna and me got in and waited for a while. As soon as it started moving I felt relief. It was so good to know I was already going "home" as I called it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-3949949942294384092?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/3949949942294384092/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/aftermath-one-step-closer-to-end.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/3949949942294384092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/3949949942294384092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/aftermath-one-step-closer-to-end.html' title='Aftermath one step closer to the end'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-1910611403327803193</id><published>2010-05-10T12:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-10T12:28:37.791-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lose control.</title><content type='html'>Today I locked myself up away from the people in the library for the whole day, as I explained in my last entry.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I lost ground to something I claimed to myself that I'd never ever do. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I lost ground to my pride of being an artist who's able to study in the very same room where I produce art.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I lost... I gained knowledge (that if you ask me) i'll not strongly use academically.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I learnt a lesson. The library taught me I should be disciplined and work when I need to so I have leisure time when I need it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now, after a long, booky, half-interesting-half-boring day, I go to sleep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Till tomorrow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-1910611403327803193?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/1910611403327803193/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/lose-control.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1910611403327803193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1910611403327803193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/lose-control.html' title='Lose control.'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-4853810618107902029</id><published>2010-05-09T23:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T23:36:52.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me rendí a la biblioteca</title><content type='html'>Al fin, hoy, despues de tantos meses de vivir aquí, me gano la biblioteca. Necesitaba estudiar en serio, necesitaba sentarme a leer y leer y leer por horas. Renuncié a las pinturas y los pinceles por esta semana, hasta al facebook. Ugh, ahora tengo que sentarme a leer, memorizar, entender, a pretender que quiero hacerlo. Que aburrido... aunque he encontrado que sentarme a leer aca es interesante también. Porque puedo concentrarme de una forma que en mi cuarto o en el art center no puedo. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Que increible que tenga que venir a encerrarme en un cubiculo blanco de madera con tela azul para poder estudiar decentemente. Eso sí, no sucederá muchas veces en mi segundo año. Espero.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Estar sentado aqui le resta horas a mi experiencia afuera. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pensandolo bien, si me siento aquí, y termino rápido, más rápido podré salir afuera, a la luz del sol, a la colina ventilada, y a ver las caras de las personas en lugar de las hojas del libro.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Vamos, dos días sentado aquí y le gano a los end of years.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-4853810618107902029?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/4853810618107902029/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/me-rendi-la-biblioteca.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/4853810618107902029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/4853810618107902029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/me-rendi-la-biblioteca.html' title='Me rendí a la biblioteca'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-3299685175870315049</id><published>2010-05-08T08:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-08T13:01:44.073-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Death in Guatemala</title><content type='html'>Relief. Worry. Impotence. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not there right now. &lt;div&gt;But my family and friends are.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't do anything right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's the usual cycle on which I wander when I go through newspapers from back home. What to do?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes I feel that with that many people killed daily in my country I could be one of them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-3299685175870315049?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/3299685175870315049/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/death-in-guatemala.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/3299685175870315049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/3299685175870315049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/death-in-guatemala.html' title='Death in Guatemala'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-6962627190290806550</id><published>2010-05-06T11:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-06T11:26:26.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Las day of classes. Last day of learning?</title><content type='html'>Day 7 in my cycle is I think the best day I could have. It's on this day that I usually get the feeling that I didn't got to class, but that I learned about the world.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My English class is something I will really miss during the summer. I feel that there's where I learn the most things for everyday life, unlike eco, chem, and art. Today I had a realization of how much of a weight I have inn my shoulders if I decide to become part of the system, whether it's like a graphic designer or as an advertiser, because I would just contribute to that system in a more direct way than now. And actually, I felt before that I wouldn't be comfortable by being an advertiser, if I am advertising things hiding the truths, or making people want things "attaching happiness to the label with the price".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, I could design for good causes, but it doesn't pay. And I want to be able to live decently.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess I will find my way around it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tomorrow is the last day of school, then we have exams for two weeks, and we're gone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's all becoming really silent. Like the calm before the storm. But after storms rainbows come. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hopefully.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-6962627190290806550?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/6962627190290806550/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/las-day-of-classes-last-day-of-learning.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/6962627190290806550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/6962627190290806550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/las-day-of-classes-last-day-of-learning.html' title='Las day of classes. Last day of learning?'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-2330393791968689869</id><published>2010-05-02T08:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T08:21:28.508-07:00</updated><title type='text'>el primer dia de mayo. / the first day of may.</title><content type='html'>Mayo vino y la lluvia consigo, tras esas tardes amarillas, &lt;div&gt;hoy una gris y una noche azul tempestad nos acompañan. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mayo y los días que nos quedan. Mayo y el estrés. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mayo y las despedidas. Mayo y las bienvenivdas, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;y los adióses y holas. Mayo viene y se aferra a las &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;caras que se van a quedar en este tiempo en mi memoria. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mayo viene y rompe la lluvia, las olas que me pegan y &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;que mientras mas me pegan menos moretes quedan.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mayo viene y las decisiones empuja, mayo viene y &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;debo saber a donde ir. Mayo viene y me quiero quedar. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;---&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;May came and rain with it, after those yellow afternoons,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;today a grey one, and a blue tempest night accompany us.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;May and the days we have left. May and the stress.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;May and the goodbyes. May comes and clings on to the&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;faces that will stay in this time in my memory.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;May comes and the rain breaks, the waves that hit me and&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;that the more they hit me the less bruces I have.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;May come and decisions it pushes, May comes and&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to know where to go. May comes and I want to stay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-2330393791968689869?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/2330393791968689869/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/el-primer-dia-de-mayo-first-day-of-may.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/2330393791968689869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/2330393791968689869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/el-primer-dia-de-mayo-first-day-of-may.html' title='el primer dia de mayo. / the first day of may.'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-7006760324665149160</id><published>2010-05-01T07:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-01T07:56:20.889-07:00</updated><title type='text'>La tarde amarilla</title><content type='html'>Asi de papel celofán, aburrida, crepuscular, y poco usual vino esta tarde. Vino con ideas, después de una lluvia fuerte y poco usual también, y con un pensamiento. En tres semanas y piquito me voy de India. Por un tiempo, pero es una probadita del para siempre.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-7006760324665149160?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/7006760324665149160/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/la-tarde-amarilla.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/7006760324665149160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/7006760324665149160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/05/la-tarde-amarilla.html' title='La tarde amarilla'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-1111903538896031552</id><published>2010-04-29T15:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-29T15:52:25.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'>3.48</title><content type='html'>I don't get this Indian people sometime, not that I generalize to all of them, but some of them are so... you just can see right through them. I guess they could also see through me.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ha lev shali lahem, venishmati kullah,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God, the art school thing is overwhelming&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am tired, sleepy, jealous, immature, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it's dangerous, i'm falling.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want someone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-1111903538896031552?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/1111903538896031552/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/04/348.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1111903538896031552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1111903538896031552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/04/348.html' title='3.48'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-1991362413250530622</id><published>2010-04-27T04:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T04:56:50.835-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Designing myself</title><content type='html'>As I found my chance to design something for the first time, the MUWCI planner, I find that the main thing I need to have is a voice. Trying to please whoever will use the planner is impossible, so the only solution is for me to stick to what I think will work and most probably fail to the eyes of some people, but I'll make sure it's most of them who find it useful and new.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Change is a big thing, and people might like the previous design more, maybe less, maybe the same. But I need to like it myself and make it according to my vission. Which is what I'll do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's where the road starts I guess.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-1991362413250530622?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/1991362413250530622/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/04/designing-myself.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1991362413250530622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1991362413250530622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/04/designing-myself.html' title='Designing myself'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-10240880711679059</id><published>2010-04-24T12:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T12:53:04.927-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Home</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;At exactly the point where I know I have less than a month to live here, less than a month of seeing my second years, my roommate, my friends, half the people that now are a big part of my life, I find a song that describes de concept of home so simply and beautifully that I need to write it.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Home is when I’m alone with you”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Y funciona tan tan bien que hasta duele pensar que no estaré con algunas de esas personas después.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Creo que al final de esta experiencia encontré el significado de un hogar, lejos de mi casa, y también en ella. Ahora solo espero… espero el día en que ese viaje me lleve de vuelta a mi tierra linda, con lágrimas, cansancio, alegría y gritos, dios… en qué me metí?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-10240880711679059?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/10240880711679059/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/04/home.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/10240880711679059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/10240880711679059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/04/home.html' title='Home'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-8116906441176886445</id><published>2010-04-20T06:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T11:41:05.991-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sin título</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;pencilPete FONT&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:SimSun;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-ansi-language:ES;mso-fareast-language:ZH-CN;mso-bidi-language:AR-SAfont-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:28.0pt;"&gt;Creo que es hora de empezar, de empezar una linea que tire y deje ir e ir e ir hasta no saber donde termina, y que me lleve consigo. Creo que es hora de comenzar a dejarme llevar por algo, por una pasi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=" font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-mso-ansi-language: ES;mso-fareast-language:ZH-CN;mso-bidi-language:AR-SAfont-family:SimSun;font-size:28.0pt;"&gt;ó&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;pencilPete FONT&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:ES;mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;mso-bidi-language:AR-SAfont-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:28.0pt;"&gt;n, quiz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=" font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-mso-ansi-language: ES;mso-fareast-language:ZH-CN;mso-bidi-language:AR-SAfont-family:SimSun;font-size:28.0pt;"&gt;á&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;pencilPete FONT&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:ES;mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;mso-bidi-language:AR-SAfont-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:28.0pt;"&gt;s por falta de ganas de cosas que hacer, quiz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-mso-ansi-language:ES;mso-fareast-language:ZH-CN;mso-bidi-language:AR-SAfont-family:SimSun;font-size:28.0pt;"&gt;á&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;pencilPete FONT&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family: SimSun;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:ES;mso-fareast-language: ZH-CN;mso-bidi-language:AR-SAfont-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:28.0pt;"&gt;s por falta de ganas de cosas que hacer, o incluso quiz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-mso-ansi-language:ES;mso-fareast-language:ZH-CN; mso-bidi-language:AR-SAfont-family:SimSun;font-size:28.0pt;"&gt;á&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;pencilPete FONT&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:SimSun;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-ansi-language:ES;mso-fareast-language:ZH-CN;mso-bidi-language:AR-SAfont-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:28.0pt;"&gt;s por falta de ganas de cosas que hacer. Esto no es producto sino proceso, de algo que me deje ser como quiero, que me de un pedacito de espacio para mi y que, si, quiz&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-mso-ansi-language:ES;mso-fareast-language:ZH-CN; mso-bidi-language:AR-SAfont-family:SimSun;font-size:28.0pt;"&gt;á&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;pencilPete FONT&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:SimSun;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-ansi-language:ES;mso-fareast-language:ZH-CN;mso-bidi-language:AR-SAfont-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:28.0pt;"&gt;s la inocencia se acab&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-mso-ansi-language:ES;mso-fareast-language:ZH-CN; mso-bidi-language:AR-SAfont-family:SimSun;font-size:28.0pt;"&gt;ó&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;pencilPete FONT&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:SimSun;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-ansi-language:ES;mso-fareast-language:ZH-CN;mso-bidi-language:AR-SAfont-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:28.0pt;"&gt;, pero que la diversi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-mso-ansi-language:ES;mso-fareast-language:ZH-CN; mso-bidi-language:AR-SAfont-family:SimSun;font-size:28.0pt;"&gt;ó&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;pencilPete FONT&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:SimSun;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-ansi-language:ES;mso-fareast-language:ZH-CN;mso-bidi-language:AR-SAfont-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:28.0pt;"&gt;n solo acaba de empezar. La unica cuestion ahora es decidir el lugar de ese inicio.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'pencilPete FONT'; font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'pencilPete FONT'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;Acaso segui a la liebre por el agujero? o solo me lancé? y no me refiero al agujero de la madriguera, el agujero de mis pensamientos que penetré con curiosidad, e impaciencia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-8116906441176886445?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/8116906441176886445/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/04/sin-titulo.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8116906441176886445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8116906441176886445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/04/sin-titulo.html' title='Sin título'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-2341762711379389578</id><published>2010-04-12T09:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T11:10:40.966-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The pie, the afternoon, and the white</title><content type='html'>My first year is finally out. I can't believe it as I write it here, specially because I remember when I wrote my first post on the blog, but I'm quite happy :) I think he's going to teach me a lot about being tolerant and not judging people. He's really really into math and sciences... like completely different than me :P totally into arts and not math. Anyway, i'm happy&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What else? I think I finally made up my mind on terms of what I want to do (or at least one of my options); Graphic Design, and so my goal has to be to have a portfolio that's good enough to allow me to enter to Ringling College of Art and Design :P ... how the hell?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mm, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-2341762711379389578?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/2341762711379389578/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/04/pie-afternoon-and-white.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/2341762711379389578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/2341762711379389578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/04/pie-afternoon-and-white.html' title='The pie, the afternoon, and the white'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-4769929399948008006</id><published>2010-04-08T11:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T11:47:49.416-07:00</updated><title type='text'>45 días y el teatro</title><content type='html'>La relación de amor-incomodidad que mantengo con este lugar y conmigo mismo para variar me hace sentarme a escribir. A ordenar mis pensamientos. Acabo de ver una obra magnífica, creativa, con actores apasionados, de las que vale la pena ver siempre una vez más. Acabo de ser usado, literalmente, por una "amiga". El teatro y la energía que hizo correr por mis venas, las ganas de no estar sentado en el área común pero todos mis amigos están durmiendo. Las ganas de no estar en frente de la fiesta de te de media noche de los europeos, la mayoría de quienes provocan sensaciones contrariadas dentro de mí.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;El saber que me quedan 45 días acá en el colegio. Cuarenta y cinco! Para bien, porque vuelvo a mi casita, y para mal porque no vuelvo a ver a mucha de esta gente en mi vida. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;La canción de la francesita que me gusta mucho y me emociona, el ver a alguien que me atrae entre el público de la obra.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Y justo ahí esta otra vez, esa relación de amor y odio. La noruega me invita a la fiesta de té. Voy y me retiro elegantemente luego de un rato? Si. Porque ese es mi lema desde hace ratito.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Voy, y me voy a dormir luego.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Un beso&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-4769929399948008006?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/4769929399948008006/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/04/45-dias-y-el-teatro.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/4769929399948008006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/4769929399948008006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/04/45-dias-y-el-teatro.html' title='45 días y el teatro'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-8987402793813886943</id><published>2010-04-05T04:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T08:02:35.197-07:00</updated><title type='text'>23 minutes</title><content type='html'>Before the next thing I have to do starts: College Meeting. There I will sit for an hour, listen to other people give announcements, and will give one for one of the activities I'm part of. But wait, why do I have to do it? Because if you don't do it then no one will know. Why doesn't someone else do it? Because they asked you to do it. Fine.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Where was i? Yes. 23 minutes. Wait, no. They are 19 now. Where did the other ones go? Shit, I have to start paying more attention. These things just run away from me, all the time. And they stay so long when I want them to go fast. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But anyways, I really don't know why do we have to do things we don't want to. See, when I want to sleep, my mind tells me I have to work, I when I want to have fun, my eyes say it's time to go to bed. How the hell do I deal with that?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-8987402793813886943?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/8987402793813886943/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/04/23-minutes.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8987402793813886943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8987402793813886943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/04/23-minutes.html' title='23 minutes'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-5545171412869381579</id><published>2010-03-27T22:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T23:05:04.397-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Talking to myself</title><content type='html'>Ayer decidí ordenarme, decidí que voy a valorarme, a valorar a los amigos que sé que tengo, y a valorar todo lo bueno en mi vida. Los altbibajos emocionales quizás sigan estando ahi, pero es algo con lo que tengo que lidiar. Y justo cuando decidí eso... volvieron los problemas. Quizás es fácil solo concentrarme en los problemas que yo tengo porque es tán fácil caer por esa atención, esa preocupación o "care" que mis amigos tienen cuando yo estoy mal. Y sí que he estado mal, pero me he concentrado más en eso que en otras cosas. Y me doy cuenta lo buenos que son mis amigos también :)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Voy a concentrarme en lo que vine a hacer aquí. A concentrarme en mis metas y planes, a trabajar duro por ellos, y a ser feliz con los resultados de mi esfuerzo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pero, será que mas esfuerzo equivale a mas felicidad?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Si me esfuerzo más, es más probable que tenga mejores resultados, y que por ende sea más feliz. Pero, eso sería si los resultados favorable ayudan a que logre lo que quiero lograr. Y sí, es algo importante para mi, pero ese esfuerzo implica el uso de tiempo y energía que podría hacer para otras cosas que quiero hacer. Costo de oportunidad. Mierda.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-5545171412869381579?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/5545171412869381579/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/03/talking-to-myself.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/5545171412869381579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/5545171412869381579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/03/talking-to-myself.html' title='Talking to myself'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-7927384801726745847</id><published>2010-03-20T11:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T10:04:24.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Work</title><content type='html'>Recently I had this some sort of revolution of thought towards how I look at education. I think it was because of another big failure in Academia, an Economics paper, that I just wanted to "mandar a la reverga" to IB.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-7927384801726745847?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/7927384801726745847/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/03/work.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/7927384801726745847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/7927384801726745847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/03/work.html' title='Work'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-1181558476062012051</id><published>2010-03-19T13:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T13:17:04.931-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sirenas</title><content type='html'>Sirenas que cantan a mi melancolia en esta noche de verano.&lt;div&gt;Sentado afuera de mi casa, sentado, despierto en la madrugada&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;y con otro mundo en mis ojos las veo casi al alcance de mi mano.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Una me sonríe y me recuerda que no es tan difícil flotar en la nada.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sirenas que me ahogan en el mar de hierro de mis deseos y limitaciones.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me toman de los talones y jalan y jalan hacia abajo llevandome, ahogándome.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Es fácil soltarse de esas verdades a las nos aferrarnos, y vivir ilusiones.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;¿A dónde me llevará esta vida? ¿A dónde la dejare llevarme emocionándome?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sirenas que cantan desde la lejana tierra a la que vuela mi mente&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;en esas noches donde entre la almohada y mis pensamientos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;no cabe el sueño que cierra mis ojos y me deja soltar momentáneamente.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sirenas aladas que sin poder respirar bajo el agua &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;nadan bajo la barca de Caronte, burlando al tiempo y a la muerte.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Arrastrándo consigo esos pensamientos hacia abajo,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;sirenas que creé en mi taller, y que deje volar un día.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-1181558476062012051?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/1181558476062012051/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/03/sirenas.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1181558476062012051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/1181558476062012051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/03/sirenas.html' title='Sirenas'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-3094129025236694597</id><published>2010-03-01T10:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T10:33:34.339-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends</title><content type='html'>Estuve a punto de censurarme de no escribir esta entrada, pero creo necesario escribirla, pues aunque esto sea publico, tambien es mi diario.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Los amigos que he hecho aca son personas tan especiales, raras, únicas y confortantes que debo decir que soy dichoso. Se unen a la lista de gente tan especial que conozco de vuelta en mi país, y por el resto del mundo que siempre están ahi :) Ustedes saben quienes son.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Estos días me he dado de la importancia de buenos amigos, y más aún... de los verdaderos amigos que tengo. Esos que me han apoyado siempre, y que ahora más que nunca están siempre presentes, aunque sea a la distancia. De veras creo que eso ayuda a sanar, a sentirme como parado en un trampolín en lugar de flotando en el aire, y que me ayudan a tomar ese impulso para saltar y lograr lo que quiero (o por lo menos intentarlo).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ya sea que si están viviendo el segundo año de esta experiencia, o si estamos viviéndola al mismo tiempo, o si la viven a través de mi (con las perdidas de contenido que eso implica) o si simplemente escuchan, todos están ahi en el momento justo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gracias. (:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-3094129025236694597?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/3094129025236694597/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/03/friends.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/3094129025236694597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/3094129025236694597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/03/friends.html' title='Friends'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-8650759546781238877</id><published>2010-02-27T20:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-27T20:32:04.291-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dancing with Myself / Bailando conmigo</title><content type='html'>Hey! Y es aqui cuando aprendí a bailar solo, a dejarme llevar por la música y ser feliz en el momento... :)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bailando en el art center, en la fiesta europea, la fiesta drag, carnaval, y el holi!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Carpe diem&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;---&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hey! And it's here when I learned to dance on my own, to let myself go by the music, and be happy in the present. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dancing in the art center, in the european party, the drag party, carnival, y holi!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Carpe diem&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-8650759546781238877?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/8650759546781238877/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/02/dancing-with-myself-bailando-conmigo.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8650759546781238877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8650759546781238877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/02/dancing-with-myself-bailando-conmigo.html' title='Dancing with Myself / Bailando conmigo'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-7384873174015478746</id><published>2010-02-26T12:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T10:13:41.481-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cry</title><content type='html'>Creo que hoy ha sido uno de los días más intensos&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-7384873174015478746?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/7384873174015478746/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/02/cry.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/7384873174015478746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/7384873174015478746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/02/cry.html' title='Cry'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-5554081303221075781</id><published>2010-02-26T03:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T04:33:31.826-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blink / Parpadea</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I've never realized the moments where I've grown. They have just happened. In the end, there's always a point when I don't fit in my jeans, when my shoes start being too small for my feet, or when the sweater is simply not big enough. Those are the easy ones to notice. If I look back at myself a few months back, I recognize change. Don't ask me why, or when, or how. But there's change. Change as in having a shitload of work to finish during a week and spend the day before my final deadline baking pie. Of singing and being truly happy and bliss. And, of course, meeting my deadlines... but without too much stress. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And there's also a part of myself that I accept more easily every day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;I also learned that even if I want to make my emotions subjects of my reason, there's a point where it is just not possible to submit myself under the laws of the brain. Resentment, joy, and confusion.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;And the hardest part, I guess, of all this growing process is the deja-vu of not getting something I really dreamed for. I feel absurd, a bit stupid to be honest, and sad. And there's honest happiness as well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;The last thing I'm working on is not comparing myself to other people. Being the best in school is no longer my definition of a fulfilled academic effort. And leading things is not exactly what makes me a better person. It is how good I lead whatever I have to opportunity to do so that matters.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Art and Theater, the marvellous ways that I have to keep my mind away from work are simply something that I am grateful for.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Change back home, change in school, change in myself and inside my mind. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Someone I really liked has left today. The energy and the amazing things I learned from one of my roommates are things I am very lucky to have experienced... Quoting Andrés, "the bad thing about this experience is that you are full of good-byes at the end of it".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Not everything is grey and green though... :) In the bubble inside the hill inside Asia, things keep going on. Maybe &lt;i&gt;it all starts here....&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Things happen in a second. Blink, and you'll miss them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;---&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Nunca me he dado cuenta de los momentos en los que he crecido. Solo han pasado. Al final, siempre hay un punto en el que ya no quepo en los jeans, cuando mis zapatos son muy pequeños para mis pies, o el suéter no es suficientemente grande. Esos son los que son fácil notar. Si me veo a mi mismo hace algunos meses, reconozco cambio. No me preguntes por qué, o cuándo, o cómo. Pero hay cambio. Cambio como el que tenga un chingo de cosas que hacer para terminar durante una semana, y pase el día antes de mi última fecha límite horneando pie. Como cantar y ser feliz de verdad. Y por supuesto, cumpliendo con mis fechas límites, pero sin demasiado estrés.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Y también hay una parte de mí mismo que acepto más fácilmente cada día.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;También aprendí que aún si quiero hacer que mis emociones sean sujetas a mi razón, hay un punto en el que simplemente no es posible someterme a mí mismo bajo las leyes del cerebro. Resentimiento, alegría, y confusión.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Y la parte mas díficil, creo, de todo este proceso de crecimiento es el deja-vu de no tener algo que realmente soñaba. Me siento absurdo, un poco estúpido para ser honesto, y triste. Y hay felicidad sincera también. Difícil de explicar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;La última cosa en la que estoy trabajando es en no compararme con otras personas. Ser el mejor en el colegio ya no es mi definición de esfuerzo académico completo. Y liderar cosas no es exactamente lo que me hace mejor persona. Es cuán bien lidero lo que sea que tenga la oportunidad de liderar lo que importa.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;El arte y el teatro, las maravillosas formas que tengo para mantener mi mente fuera del trabajo son simplemente algo por lo que estoy agradecido.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Cambio en casa, cambio en el colegio, cambio en mí mismo y en mi mente.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Alguien que quiero mucho se fue hoy. La energía y las cosas sorprendetes que aprendí de uno de mis compañeros de cuarto son cosas que he tenido la fortuna de experimentar... Citando a Andrés "lo malo de esta experiencia es que estás lleno de adioses al final de ella".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;No todo es verde y gris sin embargo... :) En la burbuja dentro de la colina dentro de Asia, cosas siguen pasando. Tal vez &lt;i&gt;todo comienza aquí...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;Las cosas pasan en un momento. Parpadea y te lo perderás.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-5554081303221075781?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/5554081303221075781/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/02/blink-parpadea.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/5554081303221075781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/5554081303221075781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/02/blink-parpadea.html' title='Blink / Parpadea'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-8669207857581839623</id><published>2010-02-18T00:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T10:17:02.029-07:00</updated><title type='text'>El idioma y el cansancio</title><content type='html'>Estoy cansado... con calor, confundido, atareado, con ganas de salir, disfrutando, un poco frustrado, con una lucha interna, y como trece externas (entre ellas una por mantener mi español como se debe), a tres y algo meses de salir de clases, y de volver a casa, con las ganas de saber que sera de mi verano, y... mmm... ya dije cansado?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tal vez ahora si que el UWC me esta llevando al limite del cansancio, como parte de su filosofia de llevar a los jovenes a sus limites y ponerlos a prueba.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me sorprendo de ver como no me habia dado cuenta de todo esto..., hasta ahora que lo escribo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-8669207857581839623?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/8669207857581839623/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/02/el-idioma-y-el-cansancio.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8669207857581839623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/8669207857581839623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/02/el-idioma-y-el-cansancio.html' title='El idioma y el cansancio'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-5204868895477897951</id><published>2010-01-30T10:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T10:17:39.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'>For today / Por hoy</title><content type='html'>...just leave your cares at the door.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-5204868895477897951?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/5204868895477897951/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/01/for-today-por-hoy.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/5204868895477897951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/5204868895477897951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/01/for-today-por-hoy.html' title='For today / Por hoy'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-5098696732905106929</id><published>2010-01-26T00:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-26T00:33:28.949-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You've Changed / Has Cambiado</title><content type='html'>While closing one of my hiatus of not talking to my family and friends back in Gt because of the lack of time, (and of a laptop charger), I realized that other people start seeing the change in me. And I see it even more, dancing merengue, la macarena, volare, el meneaito in the common room, by realizing I care less about what other people think or say, by being myself, by starting to accept me, by worrying less... and yes, I think that's the word that troubled me, preocuppation. It is still there, but it's smaller, it used to be in the back of my neck, and now.. now it's lost somehere in the air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al cerrar uno de mis hiatos de hablar con mi familia y amigos de Guatemala por la falta de tiempo (y de carga en la computadora) me di cuenta que los demás comienzan a ver ese cambio en mi. Y yo lo veo aún más, bailando en el common room merengue, la macarena, volare, el meneaito, al darme cuenta que me importa menos lo que piensen, al ser yo mismo, al comenzar a aceptarme, al dejar de sobrepreocuparme... y si, creo que es esa palabra la que me agobiaba, preocupación. Sigue estando ahí, pero es más pequeña, antes estaba atrás de mi cuello y ahora.. ahora anda perdida en el aire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="580" height="360"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mLPPlRDOZx0&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xe1600f&amp;amp;color2=0xfebd01&amp;amp;border=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mLPPlRDOZx0&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;color1=0xe1600f&amp;amp;color2=0xfebd01&amp;amp;border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="580" height="360"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-5098696732905106929?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/5098696732905106929/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/01/youve-changed-has-cambiado.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/5098696732905106929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/5098696732905106929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/01/youve-changed-has-cambiado.html' title='You&apos;ve Changed / Has Cambiado'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-5030849134689733233</id><published>2010-01-23T22:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-23T22:54:19.145-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What if the mirror started lies? / ¿Y si el espejo comenzara a decir mentiras?</title><content type='html'>The mirror is one of the very few sources of "truth" we can run to. Whether it's to give a temporal boost to our lack of comfidence, to check whether our teeth are clean after brushing them, to play with the lights, or we might just run into them unexpectedly in any corner of the world. It can be a dependant, a love-hate, or even a casual relationship that you maintain with the looking glass, but you can't escape dealing with it. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And it is in this curious object where I looked at myself every morning and afternoon of the past five months, wondering how much have I changed, and realizing that maybe my hair's grown a bit more, that my eyes are keeping that tired look, that my skin perhaps is getting a tan from all the slight exposure to the Sun that I get here. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But last night, I felt green, I felt blue, I felt every color but the one that I have now. I felt alone, I felt with a responsibility, and with a big task. and very much obliged to meet it. Getting people to care about what's wrong in the world, for them to take action to change those things. As I had always been felt before coming to this place of wonder. I hoped that here I'd find a lot more people with the same thoughts, with the same feelings, with the same passion. And it wasn't the case.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's as if most people had become "numb" as a friend of mine said. That spirit is not dead here, but it's really small, it's contagious, it has invaded the environment in a way that I can only begin to describe, and I want to get ride of it. Because I really don't see the point of coming here if it's only to go to school, and then to college. People have a good time, sure, that's fine, but we've lost track of what we were meant to be here for. I lost track of that. I dissapointed myself. And when I realized so, I felt like a stranger in the life I was living, believe some things and doing others with self excuses.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So yes, perhaps the mirror started lying to me the moment I thought I was who I was looking at, beyond the skin and the flesh, I thought I was following the set of values I used to do most things. And then I realized that I never interpreted that properly, I let the mirror lie to me, even in this place where most things are not what they seem, and where some other things are exactly what they look like. Was it the mirror who lied? Or was it me who lied to myself?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;---&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:13.5pt;font-family:Georgia"&gt;El espejo es una de las pocas fuentes de “verdad” a las que podemos acudir. Ya sea para dar un empuje temporal a nuestra falta de seguridad en nosotros mismos, para ver si nuestros dientes estan limpios luego de lavarlos, para jugar con las luces. O simplemente podriamos encontrarnos con ellos en alguna esquina del mundo. Puede que la que mantengas sea una relacion dependiente, de amor-odio, o incluso casual, pero no puedes escapar de él.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:13.5pt;font-family:Georgia"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:13.5pt;font-family:Georgia"&gt;Y es en este curioso objeto donde me vi a mí mismo cada mañana y tarde de los 5 meses anteriores, preguntandome qué tanto he cambiado, y dándome cuenta de que tal vez mi pelo ha crecido un poco, de que mis ojos se siguen viendo cansados, y de que mi piel tal vez esta bronceada de la exposicion al Sol que tengo aquí.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:13.5pt;font-family:Georgia"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:13.5pt;font-family:Georgia"&gt;Pero anoche, me senti verde, me senti azul, me senti de todos colores menos el que tengo ahorita. Me senti solo, me senti con una responsabilidad, y con una gran tarea y muy obligado a cumplirla. Hacer que a la gente le importe lo que esta mal en el mundo, para que ellos tomen acción y cambien esas cosas. Como siempre me habia sentido antes de venir a este lugar de maravillas. Esperaba encontrar aquí mucha más gente con los mismos pensamientos, los mismos sentimientos, y la misma pasión. Y no fue el caso.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:13.5pt;font-family:Georgia"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:13.5pt;font-family:Georgia"&gt;Es como si la mayoria de la gente se hubiera vuelto “insensible” como un amigo mio dijo. Ese espíritu no esta muerto aquí, pero es muy pequeño, esa insensibilidad es contagiosa, ha invadido el ambiente en una forma que a penas puedo comenzar a describir, y quiero deshacerme de él. Porque de veras veo el punto de venir aquí si es solo para ir a la escuela, y despues a la universidad. La gente la pasa bien aquí, seguro, eso está bien, pero hemos perdido la vista de la razón por la que se supone que estamos aquí. Yo perdi la vista de esa razón. Me decepcioné a mí mismo. Y cuando me di cuenta de eso, me sentí como un extraño en la vida que estaba viviendo, creyendo unas cosas y haciendo otras con excusas propias.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:13.5pt;font-family:Georgia"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:13.5pt;font-family:Georgia"&gt;Entonces sí, quizás el espejo comenzó a mentirme en el momento en el que pense que yo era lo que estaba viendo, más allá de la carne y la piel, pense que estaba siguiendo el sistema de valores que usaba para hacer la mayoría de las cosas. Y despues me dí cuenta que nunca interpreté eso adecuadamente, dejé que el espejo me mintiera, incluso en este lugar donde la mayoría de las cosas no son lo que parecen, y donde otras son exactamente lo que parecen. ¿Fue el espejo quién me mintió? ¿O yo me mentí a mi mismo?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-5030849134689733233?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/5030849134689733233/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/01/what-if-mirror-started-lies-y-si-el.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/5030849134689733233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/5030849134689733233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/01/what-if-mirror-started-lies-y-si-el.html' title='What if the mirror started lies? / ¿Y si el espejo comenzara a decir mentiras?'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8136547556328809735.post-4287971944205874349</id><published>2010-01-17T10:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-17T10:50:15.574-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Laundry</title><content type='html'>It's what keeps me awake at this hour in the night. Laundry, for I have almost nothing to wear tomorrow. I just kept pushing it, and pushing it until I couldn't anymore. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I wait for it to be done, I think of how I feel away from home. About how I will try not to care about what people think of me and go beyond the prejudices set in my own head to label people. I need to talk to my brother. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I talked with Pearl, things should be fine between us now... hopefully. It's... weird. I never imagined about how I would feel after all of this had been sorted out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now.. I just felt lost for a moment, specially yesterday. For now I'm coming out of it. I think I'm coming out of it. Maybe I'm just being washed. Or getting dirty.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just thought of it as so cliché, so used, so worn.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Good night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8136547556328809735-4287971944205874349?l=khriswonders.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/feeds/4287971944205874349/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/01/laundry.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/4287971944205874349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8136547556328809735/posts/default/4287971944205874349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://khriswonders.blogspot.com/2010/01/laundry.html' title='Laundry'/><author><name>Khristian</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09315637564316157324</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HqZipUxwPgg/TQC7aqWey0I/AAAAAAAAAH0/JrBQyrgD9wQ/S220/IMG_3161.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
