Dear Soul:

As I promised, I’ll tell you about the boy I love. I will not say how did I “met” him cause the story is very strange. But I will tell you how is him.

He speaks with his whole body. I could listen to him for hours, even when I don’t understand a word. How he lives what he’s saying, and he pays a lot of attention to everything and everybody around him. He’s very sensitive. It’s strange how a man can be so sensitive, but he has the best of a woman and the best of a man. He can be everything. He can do everything, and everything ok. He’s the kind of guy impossible of hating if you listen to him for more than a minute.

But it’s not everything wonderful about him. Sometimes I am a bit annoyed cause he barely expresses himself. It’s very very difficult to see him posting more than a picture every month on Instagram, or watching him speaking alone without the other members of his group. I must admit this annoys me very much. But it’s not his fault, however. I would really like to know him deeper. But I cannot and this frustrates me very much.

He has a bright smile. It’s not only a smile, it’s like WOW. The sun starts shining when he smiles. I really envy him for that. I would like to be able to smile like him. It seems so easy for him. He’s always smiling, always in a bright way. I am really bad faking smiles and even when I smile honestly, I don’t smile nicely.

He has the sweetest voice in the universe and the toughest muscled body in just one person. It sounds weird, but he manages himself to make it fit perfectly. He sings like an angel, and he’s hot like a bad guy. Really, you need to meet him to believe it, but he makes this fit perfectly.

I think he doesn’t express himself cause he’s a bit insecure about talking but when he talks “seriously” I could really listen to him for hours. He believes so much in what he’s saying, he looks so interesting and he’s so funny. He’s learning English and even when he’s not very fluent expressing himself, he has the best pronunciation in the world. For me, at least. Maybe he’s a bit afraid of failing and that’s why he’s not very fluent, cause when he tries he does it very well.

He adores to win. This is a very important fact about him. He’s respectful, polite, kind, nice, warm... But if you or someone else teases him... He’s terrible. He will not stop till he wins you, even if he wins an old piece of a napkin. But he wins. This is very important for him. Winning things. You should not mess with him this way. He’s the most cheerful mate in the world, even though. He’s very, very, very supportive. Patient. Passionate. Caring. Loving. Valuable. Talented. Good looking. Smart.

Really, you should meet him. It seems I am blinded and lying, but believe me he’s like this. I am not the kind of person who denies reality to make it fit with her interests. He’s really, really wonderful and this is not because I say it. Everybody knows it.

Maybe I will have the chance to talk to him. I will tell you if I have the chance. He’s like a dream. A dream with legs. A heart with arms. It’s really hard to believe that I could have the chance to talk to him, but it’s really hard to believe that someone like him can be alive, too. So why not? Talking to him is the best thing that could happen ever to me. I was dreaming of it for so long. But I was deceived so many times in my life that I don’t want to hold a lot of expectations. Let’s see what happens.

I will share with you a picture of him smiling, to melt your heart:

There’s a lot of pictures of him being hot but I will share with you only this one

Me in the Celtic side

Dear Soul:

Today I was visiting an ancient place. A mountain where cultures of the old Europe lived before the Roman Empire invaded them. Celtic people lived in these same rocks, a lot of years ago. It’s an energetic place. You can see my hometown from this place. The Lonia river is below, flowing and refreshing the air. You can hear it from above.

These big rocks are on the top of the mountain, next to the houses where the people lived. I don’t know the purpose of them, but I feel they are there for some reason. Maybe giving equilibrium to this place. I don’t know. But I felt the energy there. I was sitting in a rock for a while, and I saw how everything started turning white, like a transparent light started to flow around this place.

I think there was rapes in these place. Those pictures came to my mind. Soldiers of the Roman Army trapping women and children. I prayed for this place to be healed, for justice to come to the people who suffered there. In the end, I took a lonely yellow flower and I put it in an old Roman house. Old houses of the Empire are still there, too. They came after Celts. The flower had even soil in the roots, so I hope this flower will grow there.

I was trying to put light in the dark side.

I hope some day I will be able to know what really happened to these old European cultures invaded by Rome.

When I was sitting in an old Celtic house, I felt the energy there. They were passionate people. They had hope. I wish I can receive their heritage and helping to heal this world. I love them. I want to know more about them. I was reading a book about this place in the library where I work, but this book told almost only about the Roman ruins, cause archeologists focused on that.

It’s said that the story is always told by the winners. I wish the story of this people can be told someday too.

Kisses,


Marta

PS: The name of this place is San Tomé, castro de San Tomé. It’s called by the name of a catholic saint, something strange for a place where the Celts lived once. I will share a picture of me with a Celtic costume from my imagination. I designed it, and in this picture I was wearing it. I am sure it has a little to do with the real Celtic dresses, but this is my imagination.

                 Picture by Marta Santos

My holidays on planet Earth are giving me interesting results. First of all: happiness is not possible here. You can try your best and find some peace inside your heart, if you manage to be alone enough and having some free time. Then, happy and relaxed moments can come. But don’t try to find the love here. Ever. Women feel jealousy and men hate you. Deal with that. Build your own paradise apart from them. Maybe, inside your mind, you can find the island where everything is ok. It’s difficult cause darkness grabs your heart and shakes it all the time, but you can do it. Rely on yourself. Lately, I have been building my perfect loving relationship, even though he’s so apart from me. HE’S AMAZING. I will share a picture with you, so you will see how beautiful and manly he is:

Jeon Jungkook. Picture from the internet 

Do you see? He’s astonishing beautiful, very polite and respectful and hot and passionate and attractive and attentive and kind and loving and ... He’s the perfect dream. But as I said before, he’s not for me. I believe I caught his attention but nobody will let him touch me. Planet Earth is complicated. People is always working to make things difficult to each other. They don’t enjoy their lives, neither they let the others enjoy. They are always so busy doing useless and harmful things.

But you have to believe their lies. Everything is ok, even when you see clearly everything is not ok. Let them be apart. It’s their problem. Not mess with that so much. They are happy with their unhappiness. 

Anyway, there’s good things here. I adore old people, for example. Old people here always sit in a bench and they spend there hours, breathing the air, receiving sunlight and talking to each other about things they watched in TV or in the newspaper, or things happening in the town or neighborhood. When they are old, they have all day for themselves and they are not stressed like people of middle age. You can see a lot of them sitting in the same bench, one next to each other but everyone looking straight. They are funny. Old people are the funniest.

People of middle age is so lost in a lot of troubles. Job, home, children, paying taxes, going to parties, marrying, searching for a lover outside their marriage... Bfff. I really stress myself looking at them, but I am in the first 30s so I should be like them soon. I don’t want to. I would love to press FF button of my life and going directly into 70s. If they are not sick, they do know how to live life. They even have sports for old people, and parties and everything.

Young people is a jungle. Literally. Fighting each other, trying to be the best of the crew, trying to get the best boyfriend or girlfriend, always following trends and fashion they see on magazines - lately in the internet. They don’t know who they are and they always want to be someone else. They are so lost and they bully each other easily. I don’t like them really much. I didn’t like them even when I was one of them. I was different but bullied. Maybe this is who I will be in my middle age. OMG, I am really looking forward to reach 70s.

I will tell you more things, dear soul. Spring is coming here. It’s nice to walk the parks and the air is so comfortable. I really like to walk in the late evening, before the sunset. Light is very warm and everything looks kinda relaxing. 

Thank you for being here and thank you for everything. Your 3D version,

Marta

PS: I will tell you more things about the boy I love. He’s incredible.

Here you can visit the following links to the three important entries of my blog:

Recommendations - How to trascend our political system - Replacing money-seeking jobs

She wanted to see the sea

Illustration by Marta Santos

Once upon a time there was an elderly woman who had never seen the sea. Since she was a child she had always lived in a small village 100 km away from the seashore. It was not a big distance but during their youth, the children of her generation had been forced to work from dusk to dawn, either at fields or at home, to maintain their families.

Times had changed gradually and some of her neighbours prospered. Their children had moved to the city for a better future, had saved enough money to improve the standard of living of their parents.

Many of them had taken their parents to the city, to the seaside and to meet the world wide opened beyond the village.

However this old woman had never been able to leave the town. Her husband had died very young and she had to provide for her two children. She had worked as a needlewoman, she had also cleaned houses and made some money washing clothes in the river for other people in those times when there were no washing machines. However she could hardly make a living for the three of them with those earning for as everybody knows, women labour was not well paid. After working all days long, she still had to do the housework. Her children had never been too demanding and they started to help their mother at an early age, as soon as they got use of reason. But even so, the burden was too heavy.

The situation became critical when their mother stumbled over in a stairway and became paraplegic. Her children, Ana and Manuel, were 14 and 13 years old respectively. They had to take on their mother’s place in her jobs and at home, so they could not study. The money they could make vanished in food, and basic daily needs. They were never able to save money to leave and go to the city at that time of economic prosperity. When anybody reaching the place, could work in anything there and come back with their pockets full.

Those children became 50 years old adults who were still looking after their mother. While this woman, already very old, had only had one single longing in her whole life: she wanted to see the sea. Her neighbours told her wonderful things about it, and she loved listening to them, sat in her wheelchair. Her children took her wheelchair out to the street on summer afternoons. Her neighbours, sheltered from heat under the shadows of the houses, comfortably sat on the stone benches of the facades, told her about the color of transparent waters and seaweeds reflected from beneath. They also explained her how people could build castles with the wet sand left behind by waves. They told her that the sea had a particular scent and released a continuous murmur when waves swayed, a murmur which calmed hearts.

One day, the old woman knew she was about to die very son. She remembered all those stories she fancied the most and decided to ask her children what she had never dared to ask for.

`Children, I want to see the sea’

Her children didn’t have the money, not even to go and see it themselves; and transportation to take her mother there in her wheelchair, was clearly beyond their economic capability. So they decided to perform a small theatre show. They told their mother they would take her to the flat of a neighbour of theirs, which she had bought near the sea. They took her mother for hours inside a van with blinded windows. They had borrowed the van from the mechanic of the village and the seaside flat of their neighbour was in fact her own house, the same house where she lived everyday. They had sticked posters of idyllic beaches on the windows. The owner of the canteen had lended them a radiocassette and a 60 minutes tape that played sea sounds continually. That was the sound track the old woman listened to when they took her to their neighbours house.

 ‘Look, mum, look how White the sand is, and look at the immensity. You can not even see the land at the other side, the sea is so vast.

Her children signalled her everything disclosed on the windows, explaining her mother every detail to be seen on the pictures.

`Those White sticks you can see at the back are the boats tied to the pier. Most of them are fishing boats or small  leisure yatchs but from time to time some big ocean liners come. Let’s see if any will arrive today, they are huge.

 ‘And what about that Green stain spotted in the horizon?’ Their mother wanted to know.

 ‘It’s an island’ Her daughter exclaimed, raising her arms with passion. It’s a piece of land in the middle of the sea and it is very close to the seashore, that’s why you can see it so clearly.

The old woman was silent, she nodded with her head and smiled with pleasure. She was satisfied.

And so went the 60 minutes, while the tape borrowed from the canteen owner was playing. When they took her back into the van, for another two hours of a pretended return trip, happiness tears were dropping from the eyes of the old woman.

When the day of her death approached, her children and the rest of her family and some close neighbours where waiting by the ladie’s bed, accompanying her in her last breaths. During her last minutes she was not very lucid. She started to speak about her dead parents who had come to take her with them and from time to time she let her eyes blank. It was then that Manuel whispered to Ana ‘To be honest, I feel guilty of having tricked her. We should have told her the truth, that we didn’t have money to take her to see the sea.’

Then the old woman came back to herself and stared at him. Very very quietly and smiling more with her eyes than with her mouth, se whispered ‘I already knew it was a lie’. Covered by a halo of peace, she firmly grabbed the rosary between her hands and let herself go.

Image by Marta Santos

On that summer day back in 1945, mum and dad were happy. They said we had won the war. The allies had come to Reims to rescue us two months ago and that is the reason why mum had bought that dress, for celebration. At last we could forget about all the necessity and anguish we had gone through. The good had won.

So I went outside to use my dress for the first time. German corpses were piled up on the pavement sides, some with opened foreheads. The decomposing odor was increased by heat. Children were throwing stones at them. Women spat at them. Men kicked them and laughed. The good had won.

The alien

«INHABITANTS OF PLANET EARTH,

Your leaders are tricking you. Yes, it is something you already suspect but you don’t know how much. You name conniveroics those who unveil the greater lies in your humanity, and I tell you:

Conniveroics are your governments, managing directors of multinationals, bank managers, those leading advertising campaigns. They sell you protection for you to be afraid and to accept instaling the virus. But they conceal the fact that genuinely there is no threat to hide from.

They use your fear. They do it to make you consider the antinatural as normal. And there they create the monster. They make hell out of paradise and ask for your cooperation. They know they can’t do it without you. That’s why they are dying with fear. They fear your not being afraid, and then having no more chance to go on manipulating you.

You are invencible, but you don’t know it.

You have the power, you have always had it. Yours is the last Word.

You decide whom you want to bet on, either on death or Life.

On antidepressive pills or healing your emotions.

On hating or loving.

On smoking or your lungs.

On alcohol or your liver.

On caffeine or your brain.

On oil propelled cars or the air you breath.

On recycling your rubbish or polluting nature.

On wounding those who can not defend themselves or defending those attacked by all.

On drowning in your consumerist trends or saving your money and value your liberty.

On following fashion or shining in your own difference.

On consenting abuse or reporting it.

On using women or loving them.

On creating mascots or allowing animals to live in freedom.

On indoctrinating your children or listening affectionately to what they have come to tell you.

On creating meat industries for serial slaughter of your younger siblings and believing your own myths as dogmas, or feeding from the resources the Earth provides.

On scorning those who say something you don’t like or trying to listen to their reasons.

On using logic alone or using the logic that comes out of the heart.

Friends, we have been observing you for eons. We have accompanied you in your process and we have always loved you. We are extra-terrestrials from a very distant planet and though you don’t know who we are, we do know who you are. We have not forgotten your grandeur. Now it is your work remembering it. With love, your brother

¼±ÞÿÕЮ°ðŬ»

Illustration by Marta Santos

The CIA director mumbled a few more harsh remarks and spat furiously to the floor.

‘Disgusting extra-terrestrial bugs’ he complained. ‘They think they can come here and speak their nonsense whenever they feel like. But now they will not interfere. We had enough difficulty trying to keep under control their green colleagues. Intergalactic trash…’ The outraged man crumpled the letter strongly, he took the Havana cigar out of his mouth and pressed it against one edge of the paper, then placed it in a glass ashtray.

After that he picked up the phone in his office.

‘Inform our president, Rockefappy, Eel Merchandiser, Her Majesty the Queen of Englaterrestrial, and that wimp called Anvil. Oh, and don't forget Pudding and the Chinese. The disgusting violets are trying to communicate again with humans.’ He took a gun out of the drawer, he observed it pleased and sketched a sardonic smile. ‘This time they will know what the United States of America are like’