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night of the living dead
singapore sunset
amw
Hay cinco personas que se murieron que quería y sigo queriendo. Los extraño y esta noche me sentaba a comer, beber y hablar consigo. Fue la primera vez que hacía algo así... Fue triste, pero feliz también. Pienso que fue una cosa buena. Los sigo extraño pero me siento más en paz.

I graduated high school in Holland, so i had to write a lot of assignments in Dutch. It feels good to be able to express yourself in other languages - there are some things you just can't say the same way in English. Of course i am not even remotely close to that point with Spanish yet, but the only way to get there is by writing reams and reams of horrible shit until eventually it gets less horrible. I am in awe of the great poets who wrote in multiple languages - it's hard enough finding the perfect words in your native tongue. Although when you write in a language not your own you can knowingly find the less perfect words - and perhaps stumble upon a more raw, more honest expression. It's like being young again, when words are new.

I want to keep doing things that help me feel young. Each of those people who died taught me things, some directly and some indirectly, things that strike new sparks every time i look back. You can't recognize it the same way when you have them, it comes with loss, as if their life flows out of them and disperses into everyone they touched.

Why can't i talk about spiritual things in my journal? Hum. I was supposed to be hibernating anyway.
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That «Of course i am not even remotely close to that point with Spanish yet, but the only way to get there is by writing reams and reams of horrible shit until eventually it gets less horrible.» is so-o-o-o-o true!

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