día 38

8 y media de la mañana, estoy en la estación de buses de kunming. no tengo ni la menor dea de donde ir.están pasando una película épica en pantalla gigante, quizás sea el tigre y el dragón, la terminal es muy moderna. la música está muy fuerte y me atormenta un poco.
el viaje se me hizo larguísimo aunque dormí mucho, otra vez era un bus con camas parecido a los laosianos, me tocó el asiento del medio al fondo, hermoso, sn vista y justo sobre el motor. por suerte había uno libre en la fila de arriba, más cerca de la ventana pero con el techa tan cerca que me golpeé la cabeza 3000 veces: justo caía sobre la cama la columna del aire acondicionado, que jsutamente no tenía las tapitas, así que el are frío entraba a borbotones. aún así era mejor que no tenerlo, hacía mucho calor sobre el motor, parece que estaba recalentando, al punto que paramos varias veces en el camino a verlo. tenía una bolsa con frutas, mitad que había comprado yo, mitad que me había dado la señora en la puerta de la terminal en mengla, en un momento se cayó al piso inferior. cuando la levanté, que asco! estaba llena de cucarachas pequeñas y medianas, muchas. la sacudí con un asco infinito, cerré mejor la bolsa y la cambié de lugar. a la mañana descubrí que habá dejado algunas adentro, un horror.

de las varias veces que paramos, bajé un par a hacer pis: los baños son letrinas pero no tienen ni papel higiénico ni las manguerita tan práctica que aprendí a usar en el último año. habrá que andar con papel higiénco otra vez, que bajón. estoy medio inapentente, ayer a la tarde me compre una especie de pan plano con cebolla, como una faina y me dejó pipona para todo el día.
perdí mi camisa negra, una que me encantaba que había comprado en mumbai con jonathan, una de las pocas pilchas que tenía que no estaba arruinada. la saqué de la mochila para subirla al bus, temiendo que haga frío y la perdí, seguramente en la fiebre de querer conectar a internet el último minuto buscando un couch se me soltó de la cartera, no recuerdo muy bien como la até. me da pena, de verdad me gustaba mucho, pero no sé, estoy imperturbable. m me contó que el también estaba perdiendo ropa, que lo tomaba como un símbolo de que estaba dejando su ser viejo atrás. pero esta camisa era de mi nuevo yo! con toda la pilcha hecha percha que tengo justo tenía que perder una de las pocas cosas que estaban bien!

en el viaje, estuve pensando en algo que también venía hablando con m.
yo le había comentado que tenía miedo de china, y el lo relacionó con otro miedo más profundo. me dijo que seguramente había llegado al límite de lo conocido y que enfrentar lo desconocido nos asustaba. entonces sugirió que me quede en ese limbo que describí, que no me mueva, y que me daría cuenta de que lo desconocido es donde ya estoy.
pues en el viaje me dí cuenta de que mi miedo a china es superfcial, o sea, lo pienso y me río, no me detiene; a nivel profundo no hay nada, no hay miedo, ni tristeza, no hay.
yo no sé en que punto estoy, pero si sé que en cada situación en la que me encuentro, sonrío. quizás este estado es momentáneo, quizás cambiará en la primera de cambio.

los de la peli se mataron todos entre todos pero ahora no sé porqué están resucitando. se miran a los ojos entre sí: sólo ellos saben lo que pasaron juntos. me hizo acordar a m (que repetitiva que estoy, eh), supongo que cuando nos volvamos a encontrar nos miraremos así: sólo nosotros dos sabremos lo que hemos pasado juntos. le escribo un mal largo, larguísimo otra vez, es un ejercicio como las morning pages. obvio que colgamos en rollos intelectuales, pero son de lo más interesantes.
he descubierto que estaba más iluminada de lo que creía! juas!
voy a copiar algunas cosas acá , me gusta como quedo (algunas estarán repetidas, lo sé).

i think that before i used to think way more (3 years ago or so), and back then i felt that people that thought less had less problems, so i decided to go easier on it and let spontaneity gain that space. knowledge can be a source of pain...look what happened with Oedipous!
i remembered one passage of a book called "the book of pleasures" of clarice lispector. the character, a woman called lori, realizes that she doesn't want to know, as knowledge is always limited, and ignorance is always absolute.
you talk about the questions "what does it mean to be the Self? What does it really mean to be truly Happy? What is Truth or Stillness?", i got bored of those questions long time ago, probably when i decided i shouldn't think that much! sometimes i feel they are part of what i call "intellectual masturbation", get tangled in thoughts just thinking how sorrowful you are because you are able to think that. i don't want that for me anymore for me.
of course it was not that one day i decided didn't want to think anymore and did it right away, thoughts kept coming and going, but maybe about 3 years ago, i started to take them only as thoughts, trying not to get tied up in my thinking ropes. for example, every time i was rejected by some guy and felt sad about it, i would say to myself: what is he rejecting? who is feeling hurt? isn't it my ego only? and it worked, sometimes better and sometimes not that much!
the problem is that when that happened many times (looooser!! ;), just like you falling silent in your swedish youth, i start to think that i am doing something wrong. and though i would like to feel i'm not, there must be a reason for that to happen... and that mystery, well, i haven't solved it yet.

about the things we run away from, i was certainly not running away from my suffering, as my life in buenos aires was quite happy. the question i made to myself that "triggered" this trip was also "what i want" and my answer was that i wanted to have a family and kids. yep, sounds like i did the opposite! well, my thought was: "ok, i want to have kids, so if i want to travel, i have to do it now." at this point, i don't know if that will ever happen, the trip was supposed to be for 10 months and now it looks far from ending, and my perspectives and determinations have "relaxed" to the point that right now i'm absolutely clueless about the future. surprisingly, this does not freak me out at all. i accept it, and even enjoy it.
i guess that if there is sth i would like to runaway from is my worst fear: not to be loved. in my childhood i would translate love into attention, and my eldest brother got it all. me, his absolute opposite, was raised to always do what i was supposed to: behave well, be nice and don't bother. it was not a hard task for me at all, but for some reason i was not fully satisfied by the reward, or what i did never seemed to be enough. then my mom told me (i think i told you this) that when i was a kid i would never cry for anything, never wanted anything, and she didn't like it!
that's truly beyond my understanding. parents are weird! i don't blame them, i'm sure they did what they thought was the best. but now i have to deal with it. i must learn that i should not make any effort to be loved. i told you before that being me didn't pay off, and i still think is like that, in the way that being me has brought more rejections than acceptance (i know you would say that that wasn't the true me, but i think i was quite authentic) anyway, that shouldn't be a problem. what i should do is accept the fact that not everybody is going to love me (just the same way i don't love everybody).
is not possible to please everybody without loosing yourself (and/or driving nuts). to please everybody, it sounds so stupid and impossible! and still we try to do it! and that is why we end up doing stupid things. we want to belong, to be part, to be accepted, to be loved. but at the same time, we want to be unique, rare, one -of-a kind. it amazes me how do we live and survive in this contradiction of willing to be part and still be different, how alienating!
lately i discovered that i don't need to belong but still i want to be loved. not by everybody but... well, it seems the ones i pick to do it, they never do. maybe i have to refine my search! (don't worry, for me this is not terrible anymore, i'm laughing when writing this!)
when traveling, i happily realized that given the chance to be anybody, i was me, i was choosing to be me. and that is quite a discovery!
my "normal" life in buenos aires is kind of far from being normal. i have a great group of friends that are as crazy as me, and with them is easy to be free: there is no limit and spontaneity is the rule. we could go cycling to to the airport at midnight to see the planes taking off or to a library to read about old city laws, or make a contest of who offers the best cakes in a rainy afternoon, or have a skype dinner because we are to lazy to move. (i love my friends, they are great) (i remember asking them why those things they loved about me would scare my prospects of boyfriends... no valid answer was provided! lol!)
it sounds hard to be always in such duality you described (parted between your internet real you and your everyday's life facade), hopefully you must have some of those friends in stockholm that can act as a refuge, but you must be aware that those weird looks you received in the past are probably going to be there again. don't let them scare you!

it's funny how being away from each other, we are still thinking in the same line, arriving to similar conclusions. for example, like 5 days ago i wrote about emptiness.
i remembered my psychologist used to tell me that i should become "friend" with my void (assuming that everybody has a void, of course, a part of our existence that cannot be fulfilled). it seems i used to try to fill it up with things or tried to imagine which things i could use to fill it up, in the idea that they would make me happier.
but now, the last few days (specially in non kiaw), i discover that is not that i have to become friend of it: i realized that i am it, i am the void. i am this big black hole where some parts of me manifest, which is big difference from thinking that the void was a part of me.
so essentialy i'm this void, which is nothing, a nothing that is so absolute that is everything at the same time. there is nothing in here. just an empty space.
that's why i'm transparent, see-through. that's why everything penetrates me, circulates in me, floods me, fills me up. that's why for me everything is so intense. because there's nothing here. i'm a void.

now, is 9.35 am in kunming bus station, they are showing an epic movie, the tiger and the dragon style. is the final battle, all are dead (or seem dead) till sth happens and they start awakening. two of them look at each other into the eyes. their looks say: "only we know what we have been through together". something tell me that if we ever meet again, we will have that look in our eyes.
i'm in this huge modern bus station with absolutely no idea of where i am or where i'm going to go, but not anxious or worried. what i said about being scared of china is true but in very superficial level, like going to the toilet and not being able to discover which one is for ladies (don't laugh, it happened yesterday!).
in me, i'm peacefully clueless.
floating.
and i'm in condition to declare i'm not looking for anything.

thank you.


me voy a buscar internet, son casi las 11 am.