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The post without a title

It was the first thing I thought when I came to name this post. There were times when the title was the last thing to write, some other times it was the first thing that crossed my mind but today, today is different, just because of the fact that this morning I had something in mind to write about, in the afternoon the idea had a little twist and now at night I just forgot about it.

I have a battle with myself because my brain is divided (so obvious, it has always been divided); sometimes when something occurs me, in that precise moment I think it is a great idea, that will bring awesome things for my life if I make it practical no matter the sacrifices and the hard work I have to do for it, it will simply be a bomb of success. I think of the revolution, in the good sense of the word, that could be generated from that miniscule part of a dream, a goal, a target, a plan, a project.

There are occasions when, however,  no matter how much I ramble that idea in my mind that from the beginning it was me and only me who approves as excellent, something happen. Suddenly I come across with the totally white painted wall, a wonder of purity, and that is not what I see but the insignificant black dot in the corner of the lower part. That is truly a shame but the worst of all is that I sabotage myself. It’s not pretty.

I could have written about my experience with cooking and how I haven’t poisoned anyone at home yet, or Amanda and her mischieves, or the things in the gym that always inspire me but, for some reason I just got blanked. I guess it will take some time to get my cool.

I have so many things to confront to beat the black dot and see the white immensity in front of me. After all, nobody is pointing at it, I saw it by myself. Maybe I need someone to deflect my horizon from the black dot to the white peak. It occurs me that a divine sign could drag me out of this maze.

As I finish this post I can imagine a title for a next time: my modjo is back.

 

 

 

 

A bundle of Joy

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This is Amanda, a mix of schnauzer given to my mother a couple of weeks ago. She is charming and what’s most funny of all is her little beard, typical of that breed, although I don’t know what’s the other breed she’s got in her genes.

She is only 3 months old and is very naughty. In the mornings she is quiet and modest, in the evening she transforms into an energy tornado. I am trying to reverse those two things; it is better that she unleashes the beast she has inside in the morning and not in the evening when everyone is preparing to rest.
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Introducing some news

Before I get deeper in some other matter I must say Luca is not longer living in this house. There are some photos of him over here, and I think he was likeable. Unfortunately it was necessary to search a new home for the  hasty doggy.

Luca had a very excited behavior, he was always jumping, running from one side to another. For some in this house it was a true bother but for my mother and me it was special; It was delightful to see him and forget about the stress for a minute. Having a pet is really relaxing, very much.

My brother and my grandfather were not at ease with this behavior so they started to show him their leadership, and not precisely in the kind way that involves man-to-man dialogue; they were beating him. I remember this day when my brother hit him with something he just picked up somewhere and for the desperate yell Luca made, I knew it was a really bad strike. That really saddened me but those two were not going to stop that.

My mother couldn’t bear having these kind of treatment for the dog so she searched for a family to adopt him and love him like he deserves, instead of leaving him here suffering for the lack of tolerance of my brother and grandfather. There was no way my mother would accept an abused dog here.

I haven’t had any news for the last months but I think he is fine. That house where he was adopted, he has been treated well, given some toys, taken out for strolls and he is loved so much. I don’t know if he remembers us, he doesn’t write neither call us, nothing. He must be fine and maybe he has his own canine family.

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The coming back?

It seems like I fear this. It’s been more than a year since the very last time I wrote here and, despite me telling myself that I will be back for a million times already, I didn’t do it. I still don’t understand what keept me from it, what that thing is that distanced me from my beloved blog, and maybe I don’t get to understand it but, what I do comprehend is that I must continue in the blogosphere.

I experience certain fear to write, when before I enjoyed it lots and it flowed succulently. My fingers have already gotten out of the habit of my eagerly writing mode in the computer ever since the ideas ran at unimaginable and unstoppable speeds. Ideas never stopped flowing but I was divided between wanting to blog and not being able to do so. I think it feels good to be back.

I think I thought of coming back  to the world of posts and blogging pretty much every day but I repeat, I don’t know what that natural or supernatural or alien thing was that restrained me from it. Blogging is fun, I always liked it, it was like an scape for me, total scape from so many things that happen in this life that simply need to be channeled somehow.

I have a ton of things I could possibly right about that I don’t know where to start. I have came with such ideas that I don’t know where I take them from. I guess one of my many personalities is to blame.

Well, time to take a deep breath and start readapting to this online world where I was a part once, and I still am but from another and different perspective.

 

 

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