futbol

After a few missed emails, I finally was able to meet up with Reed and his girlfriend Bridgette, but even this was a difficult process as I could not find the cervezaria in which they were eating. After catching up with the two of them, we met up with the Brits by Plaza del Sol, and then went for some tapas up the road. The Sangria was delicious and strong.

Cramming into the metros like sardines, we funneled through the doors and recounted seeing the Japanese officers whose sole job is to shove people into the metro cars there. Exiting the subterranean station at the stadium, we were confronted with thousands of people swarming into the arena. The energy was pulsating and we could hear the crowd already roaring from within.

After a quick beer, and the purchase of a cheap jersey, we headed in and climbed forever to our nosebleed seats. The first half was weak, no goals. The second half was chalk full of three great goals, and Real took the match somewhat easily after they began their roll. The loudest the arena got was, surprisingly enough, when the crowd didn’t like a call that the ref made, and everyone was bickering and shouting. Ed and I thought this was quite funny. Hearing the cheers of these some 80,000 people was amazing, and I am definitely glad that I went.

Esperando

Spanish people have the most ridiculous fashion of giving directions. Maybe it’s just my problem that I take them for granted every time they tell me, sigue sigue sigue, or baja baja baja, and of course una izquierda. Which, of course, leads me to yet another Spaniard who says something along the same lines. Needless to say, I find myself asking where things are constantly, and really having to think outside of this directional box.

It’s a damn shame that the banks close at 2 p.m. because I tend to find it hard to get out before then without my ritual coffee intake and shower. The people changing money near plaza del sol give the worst rates in the world, which only makes the spending of my money flow quicker.

My orientation is set up for this Wednesday, and I can say that I am thoroughly excited about finding out what it is I will be doing, and more importantly to be put up for free in this hotel, and have food as well. I have constantly continued to meet other people in the Cultural Ambassadors program, and they are from all over the states. I managed to meet 2 last night, making a grand total of at least 15 that I have met. I caught a bit of American football last night, and the night before I went to an electronic music festival that was absolutely nuts.

Thousands of people crowded into the Telefónica Arena to listen to some choice performers as Hot Chip, Crystal Fighters, and many more. Sponsored by Jeigermeister and Diesel, there were scantily clad girls walking around giving free shots, and monopoly money intercambio for drinks. Since the Metro doesn’t open until 6, we stayed up til 7. Spanish time is non-existent. And I think my legs are going to be made of steel after a couple more weeks of this walking. Soon enough I will be indulging in the delicious Riojan wines, and settling into an apartment. So excited.

el capital

Spain. How wonderful you are. I have missed you. What are these bottles of wine and stir fry cooked in a hostel kitchen shared with 2 people from foreign countries? You are cheap. You are inventive. You are interactive and delicious. You are accepting of my apparently South American / Mexican accent. You take me to the streets for it. Good enough for the shadows. And your statues, art, jamon y queso. Que rico!

Euopean Union. Pissed are you..? Yes your money flows so freely. And to think that this country is affected by worldwide downtimes is something foreign in itself. Christ I see more people out past 2 A.M. -6A.M. than I do during 10 A.M.-7P.M. 1 Euro for the chap who ashes on those below. Our terraces of power and youth contain all that is necessary for entertainment. But outside it is a world of energy without cease. Atoms split and continuously expand till the Atlantic and Mediterranean can but yield their hydrolytic cache. Madrid is a bomb, continuously exploding over and over again. Fun for now, but decaying quickly.

I must get out and settle into a respectful lifestyle.

Responsibility. Control. Maturity. I have done this, but not to such a grandiose level. Cut the line before it pulls me down. Little weight holds the cord, but pulling it with strong arms I can tow the line. I shall compromise lifestyles of yore and replace them with new ones, hybridized and lacking duplicitous interior motives. Accept and forgive. Forget and learn again.

time travel

Goodbye succelent American indulgence. Goodbye comfort blanket of home and hearth. Goodbye familiar faces and storefronts, chevy S-10 and Phil’s Citgo. Not solemnly, but satisfied I say see ya to all of these things, people and places before I leave them indefinitely.

Leaving quicker than I previously believed possible, I have already met friends. The chances were slim, and the fortune was great as a magnificent “small world” fantasy network wove itself together in the Raleigh Durham airport. A Canadian women told me how to get downtown, I told her I was going to Spain. A girl asked me if she’d heard correctly about Spain. Turns out she was going on the same program as myself. A guy asked both of us if we were indeed going on this program as he too would be embarking for Spain. We were instantly conncected and attached.

I told them of my plan to go into downtown Toronto, and with Alisha and Nate I forged my way into Canada’s largest city. Providing us with one of the bombest cab drivers ever (from Somalia) we had a quick ride into the city, where we started from scratch. The CN tower was in sight, but wildly expensive for a view. The ROM (Royal Ontario Museum) was a metro ride away, and had a wide variety of exhibits that were piddled through with our 6 hour adventure.

Not even realizing that we were out of the country already, we were returned Canadian dollars as change from our American monies. Used our last bit of change and headed back to the airport. Time to sleep on the ground, and have our last North American beers. Tomorrow, a new country, a new currency. Hasta la vista America.

dreams of insomnia

Someone once told me the last thing you think of before falling asleep is realized by your minds' imaginative capabilities in dream form.

Whether this can be preserved as the truth, I don't know. The replicating emotions spawned by memories created by thoughts plague the mind all day until it needs rest.

But what if the boundaries are breached and the emotional floodgates spill into your dreams? What then?

That beautiful woman you saw at the store earlier in the day, was she the woman in your dream? or was she just a face painted over something else that you know all too well? Or are you altogether unsure if it was even a woman in your dream at all? The idea of of someone special, someone loved, depicted by a grotesque yet beautiful warped figure twisting in and out of darkness as your mind spins its deceptively intricate web. A conversation takes place in a second, your eyes twitch beneath their lids, and the figure changes. Gaining wings and an aethereal aura that blinds you. But approaching her yields no gain. The warmth felt from within the wings is not yours to keep, but yours to make.

Once again, your eyes are open. The darkness is gone, and the thoughts are ready to make the memories, which are ready to make the emotions. All over again.

Damnit.

La bicicleta

Mounting a bicycle and cruising around is, hands down, just plain fun. Whether for recreation or just standard transit, the practicality behind this wonderful machine gears for much fun to be had. You can beat these poor bipedals into the ground, and more often than not, they won't let you down.
Sadly, I found out the hard way that the human body, in all its fleshy greatness, is just not made to be thrown about like its two-wheeled friend. Bikes dont slump into a mire of depression after they've broken their collar bones. Nor do they take 6 weeks until they can do things like carry pizzas around some whack corporate restaurant.
Alas. The bike has won. And I will respect it by continuing my prolonged use of this great invention. I hope that upon arriving in Spain I will find a dope apartment that is near everything wonderful. But more importantly, I hope to find a used Spanish road bike to aid me in daily commute. Lets hope that I won't throw myself off this bike.

Ingles. De nuevo. Otra Vez.

Somehow I found my old blog used in college for Spanish contemporary poetry. I must say I have lost touch with my studies and am determined to re-immerse myself in the romance that once drove me to spend my state borrowed money. I only have a few weeks until I return to the Iberian peninsula once again, but time is at a standstill. I cannot wait to rise to a blistering Western sun that knows no rest. I can not believe how long I have stayed sedentary in Winston-Salem. The carefree lifestyle of everyone is something that I want to burn and bury behind me. A terrible realization of Neruda-esque beliefs and visions plague me as I wake and waltz through this enigmatic and unstyled lifestyle. Foreign affairs have made me and broken me in the past half year, and I am just now scrambling to put myself back together - to remake myself. Whether I'll be viewed as different or not is not important fore I need not appear altered, but rather be. Look forward, not behind. Eat the trail of crumbs to further build myself and grow stronger. I will shed my surgeons gloves and don gauntlets. I can not take such a dainty approach to daily matters.
Put the coffee pot on.