:: permanence ::
on february the second, being a non-school day, i walked a couple of blocks across an unknown neighborhood in search for an answer to the itching on the back of my head.__all dressed in red i found myself questioning a woman i would learn to avoid about lessons and prices and such assets.__saturday morning from eight to ten was to be the time spent every week in order to make progress in what she called "one of the most beautiful and compelling things to learn"; there was no deceit in those words, but the reason i now agree with myself to say so is that aside from the effort it took to simply start, the constant presence of a particular individual whose encouraging words and tender manner became the magnetic field keeping me close to that place i know is not at all worthy of praise.__it would not be right to say i was -and am still- not addicted to the process of learning what seems to be so strange, but the reason why i kept going back to the institute after quitting so many times was the presence of the teacher that had given me so much.__now, everything seems to be entirely different, the bond has diluted and many of the things i loved about going to class every week are gone to a foreign country with which i have no way of communicating.
i will not quit, not quite yet, but i am sad.__it seems there is a natural place to which most
go, away from where i stand.
coming in through my ears::"Palacios, paraco, el pueblo está berraco"