Dear Soul:

Tonight I’m gonna tell you about my mother. She was the person I connected the most in my family.
She hadn’t an easy life. She was run over when she was alone in a foreign city taking care of my brother and sisters. She almost die sinking in the river. She had to take care of a lot of old people in my family, my father, myself and my brother and sisters. Everything at the same time.

She was the most blamed of us. For everything. Every little mistake was very awful if she was the one making it. My father was always forgiven, but my mother was always blamed. If the food was not delicious, if she spelled wrong a word, if she forgot about some stupid thing...

She said she would die before causing problems to other people. She wanted to die when she was not useful for the rest anymore. But she was always necessary cause somebody had to cook and clean the house, and of course guess who. Besides, the daughter of my sister is very young and she’s often sick. My sister works many hours so guess who cares about the little girl. And my brother has a son and a daughter too, he doesn’t live in this city but when he comes the weekend... Guess who cares about the lil monsters. I have to say that me, as a good aunt, also spent a lot of hours taking care of them. But I don’t live in that house anymore so I conquered my own freedom.

I deeply connected with my mother. She was interested in writing poems, drawing, swimming- I used to swim a lot when I was 15 -. She was also interested in spiritual and growing issues. Since I was young, she had magazines talking about ghosts and UFOs. Mysterious and paranormal things. I liked these things a lot, even when I didn’t believe neither deny them as I said, till them became too obvious. I used to walk with her in nature, talking openly about everything we could not talk to my father- he was a very catholic man.

Anyway, I don’t want to be like her. She lived denying herself just to please others. And she usually was very rough. She slapped me with no reason like she was doing kick boxing. Twice. I still remember. One of them was because she was frustrated cause I didn’t help her to please the priest of our neighborhood. He came suddenly when I was sick, and I said to my mother I didn’t want to see him cause I was sick. She slapped me endlessly because of that. The other time was because she wanted to please an old aunt who blamed me for something I don’t remember. She slapped me several times in a row. My mother barely slapped me, but when she started, she couldn’t end.

As I said, she wanted to please everybody. So it was not difficult to connect to her. Besides, we had a lot of common interests. But she wants to please me at the same time she wants to please others, and sometimes this is not possible cause we’re two parts going to different directions. She would always choose my father, my brother and sisters, my nieces and nephew over me. To make me please them, too. She said once I was very very young I should not mess with my old sisters, cause I would always lose. I felt a bit frustrated cause for me it’s not a matter of who’s more powerful, but a matter of justice. But my mother is very hierarchical.

She was not specially delicate. She used to hurt me a lot when brushing my hair, for example. She was very clumsy sometimes and I preferred to do things by myself than messing even more or being hurt. One funny thing about her is that she could look at you with only one eye. You spoke to her and she had the half face looking at you while the other half messing in the fridge, for example. I laughed at her “don’t look at me with chicken face”. Cause chickens also look at you with only one eye. She also had a strange nose when she was angry. This was very funny, too. I told her “don’t be so angry” and she said “I am not angry”, with the nose of a very angry woman and a big fake smile. Well, maybe the smile was not so big, but she tried really hard. She also damned the mother who brought me to life. “But this is you”. She didn’t understand.

My mother was a very original person. She could damn you and say “I love you” the following second. I didn’t know if she was true when damning or when she said she loved me. I suppose the last part, cause she’s my mother. She had a very strong emotional intelligence. As she was blamed all the time for everybody, she developed the capacity of not feeling blame for anything. She always blamed others and she was at peace with that. I really envyed this capacity. I used to feel very guilty about everything, even though I changed a lot and I barely blame myself anymore.

Well, I think it’s enough right now. Tomorrow I start working again so maybe I don’t post till the next weekend. Greetings.

Dear Soul:

I have told you about my father. I don’t wish my future husband to be like him, so I will write this post to tell you how I want my future husband to be - in case I marry someone.

First of all, he has to be very respectful. I mean, not like “adoring me” but I don’t like him to make fun of me all the time. It’s fine if he does this sometimes, but not with the purpose of hurting me or disrespecting me. If it’s just to have fun, it’s ok, but if it’s to humiliate me, I don’t like it.

Second, he has to be loyal to me. He would be the one for me so I should be the one for him. He should not “have fun” with other women, you know what kind of fun I’m speaking about. I’m not jealous, but I wanna be the special person for him he would be to me, too.

Third, he should be responsible. If I make love with him and something “goes wrong”, I want him to take responsibility as a good father. I am still virgin cause I have not found someone like this, someone who can be to my children the father I would have wished. I don’t ask too much: just don’t deny his children, don’t hurt them, taking care of them imwhen I’m exhausted... This kind of things.

Fourth, he should help me at home. I don’t mind if he’s the one going to the supermarket and I am the one washing clothes, or if he washes clothes and I go to the supermarket. But home tasks should be shared between two of us. I find it’s not fair to live in the same home and only one caring about having it all cleaned.

Fifth, I want him to be capable of listening. I would listen to him, but he has to listen to me too. I don’t like him to be like my father, always wanting to speak but never to listen. He should not be aggressive with me, not yell at me.

If he’s like this, everything else can be forgiven. Nobody’s perfect and, if we can talk to each other, I am sure we can solve every problem coming in our way.

If he’s cute and good looking like him, it would be a wonderful paradise 

Dear Soul:

Today I’m gonna tell you about my father. He’s an important figure to explain why my family and me are like this today.
First of all, the accurate word is “father”. Not “dad”, or “daddy”. These words are too soft and you should feel tenderness to speak like this. He was my “father”. He was working all day. I only watched him at lunch- lunch is more important than dinner or breakfast in Spain, it’s the main meal here - and at night, like an hour or less before going to bed. He worked in the morning and in the afternoon and evening. Sometimes, when I was about 5 years old, he went with me to my school after lunch.

These were the greatest moments I spent with him, when I went to school. He was by my side and we talked together. We ate chestnuts in our way to school, in the autumn. We took two or three after lunch and we were eating them in the street. He was not angry back then.

My father was working all day cause we didn’t have a lot of money. He used a secondhand car, and I used the old clothes from my sisters. One day, the father of two of my friends invited me to go to school in his expensive car. My father was so happy, inviting me to go there with them. I cried, cause he was so happy cause he didn’t have money for a car like that one. I rejected it. I said I wanted to go walking with my father. He was always by my side to go to school and I felt like failing him. He didn’t look very happy but finally we went together walking, as always. The school was 10 min. walking from our home.

Nevertheless, I cannot call him “dad” or “daddy” cause he was so distant. He looked like angry all the time when I was a child, unless when we went together to my school. My brother and sisters said he hit them with his belt when they were children like me. After coming home to have lunch, my mother said “Father is coming, father is coming” very worried, like she was scared of him.

I don’t remember exactly why, but sometimes I wondered how my mom could marry him. She was all day taking care of us, not only the children in the family but also the old people. She prepared meal for us, she was the one helping us whenever we had a problem, she was tender (sometimes, she was not a specially tender mother). She was always there for all of us, and I didn’t like how my father treated her. He was very cold with her, even when she gave always her everything to make him happy. Even forgetting about us. She cared a lot about my father, but he ignored her.

I remember I was very angry because of this, even when I was very young. Then, my father started to change, specially when he was old enough to stop working. He became more friendly, I could even say my mother and him were like a normal couple back then - even when they were fighting all the time, but they were closer to each other.

My father was very boring. When he started to talk about something, he kept saying the same for hours. You could even go to the bathroom and he followed you talking about the same, saying the same he was saying before. If you went to the bedroom, he entered with you, standing at the door and talking. You could not do anything unless listening to him repeating and repeating the same things. When he was with my brother, they only talked about wine. How they were caring about the plants giving grapes, the time of making the wine... This topic all the time. Sometimes, they talked about a traditional celebration in Galicia in which people of a family kills one pig to eat during all the year. Also about another typical tasks of the countryside, but it was mainly about wine.

My father didn’t like to celebrate things. All people should be serious people, focusing in their works and how to earn money. He was distant, boring, he never cared about how you were really, he was like a mask of a sacrificed father. My mother always says he’s very worried about how I am, that he would be very happy if I call him, but the last time I called him he was as distant as always. It’s like she’s talking about a completely different person, like she cannot see who he really is.

I mean, if he’s not the perfect sacrificed caring and loving father she says she is, the world will not end. But at least, she should not deny the truth. He’s like he’s. Nobody is perfect. It’s ok if he’s not the perfect father, we are not perfect neither. He hit my brother and sisters with his belt, this is not what a caring father does. I would not like to marry someone like him.

Dear Soul,
Before telling you more about my childhood, I will speak about extraterrestrial life. Lately I’ve been thinking very much about it. Are they here? What’s their purpose? Are they messing with us like dead people do? Do they want to help us?
It’s a very strange topic. When I was about 4 years old, I watched an UFO. It scared me and I ran into my bed to cover me with my blankets. It’s something that should not be there, something unknown. Nobody believed in UFOs when I was a child, at least not logical people. Only crazy ones who went to talk shows on TV dressed with very strange costumes and they looked like a spectacle. Scientists and people like this, they never believed in UFOs.
This was in my childhood. I believed in Catholic Church and I went all sundays to pray and listen to the weekly ritual. I felt very guilty when I didn’t go there. They said you’re a bad person if you forget about God and I also prayed every night before going to bed. My mother commanded me to do so, and my school was a religious one, too. We also prayed in the morning before starting classes, and some special days we visited the church of our neighborhood. We also had two little churches in our school, one separated and decorated like an ancient one and the other was more like a praying room inside the normal school. After this school I went to another one which was catholic, too. They said God created everything, and he’s pure love.
I believed this so hardly. They said the worst thing that can happen to you is forgetting about God, but God will always be there waiting for you if you lose yourself and you want to come home again. So I started to not believe that much. I thought “I cannot say God is true cause I cannot watch it, but because of this same reason I cannot deny God, so I will not believe neither deny him”. I read a very famous book then, “Conversations with God”. This book says that you’re creating your own reality together with God. It was a very empowering book, I liked it very much. It also spoke about life outside of the Earth, it said they are our old brothers and sisters. I started to believe in extraterrestrial life, in that moment. I started trying to create my own reality too, cause the book gave very interesting clues about how to make it.
At the same time, I started to be different than people around me. My mind started to think differently than them and I had to switch my thoughts: when I was with them, I thought like them. When I was alone, I explored my reality on my own.
I started to search about UFOs, reading a lot of New Age information, following very important figures there, I tried to expand my mind. I reached a moment when it was the same as before: “I cannot believe this cause I cannot see it, but I cannot deny it because of the same reason”. Then, I watched strange lights in the night sky, at least three times. Maybe even more, cause I watched more strange things but I am not very secure about if they really were strange lights outside logical explanations.
Back then I already knew we are creating our reality, so I felt I was connected to them for some reason. Maybe reading a lot of UFO information prepared my mind to see them.
Then, I watched an interview to a man saying he’s talking really to ETs through the internet. I though in Spanish “ya están aquí”, which is something similar to “finally, they have already come”. I was believing very much in 2012 theories, that something spectacular will happen to Earth as people awaken and I thought this was the beginning. History happening in front of my eyes. ETs starting to talk to humanity.
Then I watched to the videos. I found the explanation to many things I couldn’t explain before, and even more. But at the same time, reality became so dark. I couldn’t believe certain things. I mean, I knew governments are thieves stealing us all, but I couldn’t deal with the idea they go beyond that. It was like the surface of reality started to split with the reality lying inside very much. At the beginning, when I was reading New Age information and that, I started to understand corporations and governments are crazy and pure liars. But now it’s like I only trust myself.
It’s like everything hides a dark intention, and you cannot act like everything is going right cause you will fall in their traps. But at the same time, you cannot act like everything is going wrong cause you will look like a very crazy person. So I just really believe in what I have in front of me, right now (if it’s not a human person with the capacity of lying). I can dream a lot, but in real facts I only trust myself watching what’s in front of me in the present moment. Everything else can be real too or fake.
I don’t believe, neither deny. I let life show me the truth as time passes by. I need to do this to survive. I don’t attach myself to any idea anymore, cause everything I believed was falling.
People were such a liars. They are lying all the time, they say one thing but they want the opposite. They always want to use you for something but they cannot tell you openly so they lie, and lie, and lie. Usually, they don’t want to use you for something good. But they want you to trust them even when you’re watching clearly they only want to abuse you. It’s so crazy. I don’t rely on anybody anymore. Only in myself. In my Self: my Soul.
I wonder how things really work outside of this. At this point, I feel there’s extraterrestrial life out there (in fact, I watched UFOs) but everything is under layers and layers of lies. Who they really are? What do they really want? What are they doing? How much do they know about us? Will we be able to meet them in the future? Do they have expectations from us? Why are they here? It seems there’s a lot of them visiting us. Some reason should have leaded them here.
I feel I am knowing less everyday. Even the certain things, which I took for granted, I don’t believe them anymore. I don’t know what’s about to happen, but I feel things are changing so fast lately. Let’s see what happens. I trust my higher Self is taking care of me. I really experienced it so many times. Maybe this is the only thing I really believe. When I feel confident, it’s like sun is shining more brightly, and I find the things I am searching for. When I hurt my finger, for example. I do nothing at all, and the wound heals alone. There must be some positive force ruling us, ruling it all. I cannot deny it cause I watch it with my eyes, so I have to believe it.

Dear Soul:

I will tell you about my childhood. I was very sick when I was a baby. My mother told me I almost die. My p*ssy was very delicate and it got red easily. It still is today. I often have wounds there, it itches me very much and I have to be very careful when I wash it up. My mother said that, thanks to her and how much she cared about me, I was saved. She said she was changing my diapers all the time to protect my delicate skin.

It’s strange cause she’s not that delicate. I don’t remember this, but I remember once I was worse of my skin problem. I had liquid all over my back, and she was covering it with bandages. She was very clumsy hurting me all the time with her nails and I had to ask her to stop and I put all the bandages by myself. I was a teenager when this happened.

As I was saying, I almost die when I was a baby. My mother said doctors put a lot of tubes in my head, and it was a pity to see me like this. When I was growing, I started to feel better. Even though I kept sick. My mother said the doctor taking care of me was so dedicated, and she didn’t want anybody else to touch me unless her.

My skin problem was the worst sickness I carried on during my childhood. My family was always searching for healers to recover my skin. I visited a lot of them, and a tried a lot of remedies. Some of them hurt. I took baths in miraculous waters and it was worse. After drying my body, I went to the living room to play a basic video game of putting pieces together. It was relaxing. Cause my mother said I looked like a cat in despair- it’s said cats don’t like water, that’s why.

A lot of things happened in my childhood so maybe I write a saga of posts just talking about it.
See you soon.

Dear Soul:

Blogger tells me to speak about what I’m passionate about, but I will use this space to speak about my things. You know, what’s happening to me in my life. This is what I am passionate about. I can write here lines and lines without bothering anybody so here I go.
Today I will tell you about my little pains. I don’t know if it’s the same for everybody, but I always feel little pains. Right now I have a headache, for example. When I got up too, but it disappeared. Then, my heart aches. Then, my stomach. Then, my skin itches. Then, I have a little wound. Then, my back - my back very few times. I cannot sleep nicely some nights and I am very tired the whole day. I cannot go to the bathroom nicely. Almost every day, I feel like an electricity in my butt. I told this to the doctors but they laughed at me.
I don’t complain about my little pains cause they are always coming and going, it’s not like an illness you can heal. It’s now your stomach, the next minute your head, and so on. Everything is ok but everything is hurting. I cannot go to the doctors cause as I said, it’s a lot of little things. They only try to heal you when you’re very sick of only one thing.
Besides, they give you pills for everything. Pills for headaches, pills for digestion, pills for sleeping nicely- they should give pills to my neighbors to stop making noise, too, cause sometimes it’s because of them.
I don’t have problems like stress, anxiety, despair, fear... I consider myself a very calm person. It’s hard to affect me, in bad and good senses. But sometimes I feel depressed. You know, I am always feeling little pains- right now is my skin itching, but not very much - and I don’t connect nicely with people around me. A lot of people would say this is stupid and I don’t stand anything.
Everybody has their own problems, these are mine.
It’s nice to write here. You know, I write to somebody and then I read it like I was reading something written by another person. It’s better than psychologists. I have three psychologists in my life. They said I didn’t have any problem, but still I was going there. I don’t know why cause if I have not any problem, it’s useless to go there. But my mother and my sister wanted me to go there.
They listen to you and they give you their point of view. Sometimes, they don’t say anything and they just ask questions and listen to you so it’s like speaking alone.
I remember one of them told me to do homework, like I was in the school. A task after every session, like “draw this situation”, “write your dreams” or things like these ones. She didn’t offer me any solution, but this helped me to listen to myself. It’s like writing here.
This last psychologist always asked me “how do you feel?”. I never knew what to answer. I was very sick because of my skin problem back then, so I felt my skin itching badly. I could not feel anything else. But she knew I had this skin problem so it would be too obvious to say my skin was itching so I always said “Fine.”
My skin problem was the worst pain I felt. Depending on the time, it can itch a little bit - like in this moment- or you can wish to die. I spent my teens wishing to die because of this. Every day, every hour, every minute felt very, very, very uncomfortable and the doctors didn’t have any solution. So when you’re feeling so bad and they told you your future will be as bad as it is in this moment, with pain and without hope, you want to die. Maybe you think I am weak, but it’s not easy to live every minute of your life like you had a lot of needles coming and going from all your body.
I am not healed of this problem but I improved a lot, it’s like a completely different life now. I can do almost everything a normal person can do. I will not tell you how it felt the worst times, but when you scratch yourself and you get your own skin in your fingers and a liquid covering your skin... This is not comfortable. No, it’s not.
PS: It’s a nonsense, cause I went nicely to the bathroom this early morning. Then, I slept a bit again and I went to the bathroom awfully. If it was because of the food, I should have gone badly first, but it was the second time. Besides, after that I felt the electricity in my butt and my stomach behaving like a wash machine. It’s completely crazy. I feel good but then I feel bad and then I feel good again. What should I do? I don’t care about the food anymore cause it has nothing to do with it. I use to make strict diets but it’s the same as nothing.

Dear Soul:

I write to you cause I have nobody to write to. Lately I’ve been thinking about my life - this is something I always do - . Life is strange. I mean, I don’t have any problems but at the same time I have a lot of them. When I was younger I planned some things to my life, and I achieved them: I got a job guaranteed for life, I rented my own apartment in the center of my city... But I’m not happy, tough. I was dreaming too much lately. As I didn’t have to care about material things anymore, I fell in love with a Kpop singer and I dreamed too much about ETs and life beyond Earth.
But I don’t feel this is ok. This will not lead me to anywhere. I knew it at the beginning but I kept dreaming. I always had a big imagination. Thanks to this imagination, I reached where I am. Nevertheless, I’m stuck here. I feel I have reached the top. I feel there’s nothing more to seek for, both more to expect from life. I have what I need for me.
I think the problem is that I expect more from the people. I didn’t care too much about them before cause I was trying to solve my own problems, but now that I cannot ask more from life, I tried to change my little world from my job. At the beginning I had tons of illusion, but I was very deceived. They always dismiss me. Even when I offered them ideas to make things easier and quicker, they didn’t listen to me and they kept complaining about the same problems. It’s like they are deaf. If I say something to improve things, they ignore me and they do exactly the opposite. My mind is really out of them. I don’t want to think about them anymore, but at the same time I must do it cause they are a part of my life. Theories about ETs on YouTube and fangirling a Kpop singer will not improve my life.
I think the human being always wants expansion in every way. Once you reached some point, you want to go further than that. But I cannot get it in this case. I should accept I have dreaming too much lately about impossible things and people in my work will not change. I will have to deal with that.
I am 31 years old now. I still have about 30 or 40 years working before a little retreat and dying.
I really don’t know what to do about it. It’s a long time. People say life is short. Life is so f*cking long!!!
I know I should deal the best I can with the same problems every day - problems in my job, I don’t really have any problem outside. This is what people do. Things don’t change magically and you always must struggle so much to get something little.
I uplifted myself so many times. I believed you don’t have limits and you can get everything you want, but I realize this is not true. It helps you to improve your life and feel better, but it’s not true. Things are always difficult and hard, specially when you’re treating other people. Woah, when you’re treating other people, things can be impossible. That’s why I am writing here to you, my soul. It’s like splitting me in two parts to be able to talk to someone. Nobody will read this, nobody will leave a comment, so it’s a nonsense to write to other people like this blog is gonna be ridden by somebody else. I did, at the beginning. When I started to write in a blog, 12 years ago. But after all this time, if I was writing to myself hoping to be ridden, it’s really discouraging to hold the same hopes. After 12 years, it’s time to accept this does not work. Even tough, it’s a relief to write sometimes.
I am wondering what picture I can put here in this post. It will be something random. Let’s be free and watch what happens. Till the next letter. Greetings.