Di que me quede y me quedo

>> Saturday, November 20, 2010

It is going by too fast.
I feel too attached to this place to leave so soon.


I know it sounds dumb, but there's this deep, deep connection I feel in the soil here, as if there is a heart beating beneath the surface and it is the same as my heart and it pounds in my brain in a painful and wonderful way. All the nostalgia and history, the pain of wandering and emotion that come with this place are all packed into this rhythm, and it is the rhythm of life here. The way things are slower, the way things are just harder, the way things are more simple. It's something that can't be explained without being a part of it. This strong, sensual, wrenching attachment I have to this place. This place where layers of meaning are behind everything you see. The great city of politics and controversy, the vast countryside of rolling hills that crash on the banks of the Río de la Plata and Pacific. The wild passion of the hardworking gauchos, the love squished in homemade alfajores, the broken families that cry out in the tangos of old. 


How am I to tear myself away from this? I have only been grafted in for a short time, and yet we have grown together as one. I do not want to return. I feel a different kind of freedom here.


Perfume de la alta noche,
pequeña flor constelada,
en el patio con aljibe
y en mi corazón, guardada.



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