Author: JulioSueco
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When the trees started to swoosh with the force of the winds my hair began to be caressed by the gusts of the fresh morning breeze. My neck felt the coolness of the early hours light and I kept walking against the gales and ended up loving the chilly air touching my face, I fell…
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On writing
When I write I like it when it gives rise to phonological linkage. This happens very much in both my native tongues, Spanish and English, as Swedish is still hatching from the shell it is incubating in. When a line comes to mind and I write it down, type it, remember it by heart etc,…
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Vera Brittan: Testament of Youth
Vera Brittan recounts her fight for her independent self as an uphill battle. We get this, as it seems that she is engaged in a Sisyphus task in order for her to accomplish her education. Our hero is put to test her belief; the devil is society, her milieu. I find it amazing how Beauty…
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The space keyboard brings insecurity to my typing. It is wobbly, in a fit of misdirected force I became irate and hit it thus making the spacebar wobbly. It’s nearly reflecting my approach to writing. As I always fear the power words have, and ultimately the power the reader has; unto them, I stand needlessly…
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Being trilingual has caused interesting activities in my brain. Although I’ve never had any problems with Spanish and English sharing the same mass of grey matter, it seems that English and Swedish are just being too concomitant with each other, like lost cousins they intermingle. They’ve cozied up too much producing a dissonance in my…
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Dear diary, not! I reached a point of observation, on top of the lighthouse I saw with the aid of the ramp light a common scene, the sea. I saw millions of sparkles in its water, all very amazing in varying degrees, yet I saw a struggle there too, namely, the need for uniqueness. Half…
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It’s ridiculous. Watching the war on the news in so many possible channels with so many perspectives. All the same, in English. Tone varies though if you suddenly choose other languages, but the truth is that the only ones having a ball here are the capitalists. Markets are soaring. They seem happier, yet we lesser…
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Then that same night he told her he couldn’t lie, they drank beer, lying right there on the spot to each other. He had that flash, that flash that’s like a chain and ball, heard the chin-cling loud and clear and wanted freedom. He felt high as ever, didn’t really want part of her, he…
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When it comes to languages it seems to me rather curious the stance some people take. I remember as a child how embarrassed I was to speak Spanish. I recall how one day we came to my grandmother’s in TJ and how, in spite of being raised by her, and just only two years before…
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What is it about two people that just want each other? There are two things I loathe, hunger and sex, they distract me from my studies, they do, they really do. – Wanna drink coffee? – No thanks, am bored, I don’t know where am going, what I want nor a purpose; I am already…
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Peter Weiss
Since last monday Jean Paul Marat has been in my head. In particular the painting Jaque Louis David did of him titled Marat Assasiné . I first came across him through a book by Peter Weiss that I must of surely found in a second hand bookshop back in the states. I must of liked…
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Act one: Drama out of proportions Anton: It will go fast, the remorse and qualms ails us, I promise it will go quickly. Cleops: We can not stand idle and do nothing. In history we will go down as the most cowards of all generations. Having power, we did not use it. Instead, we remain,…