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JTô |
| Jota-Té-macho (el signo no está en mi teclado, de ahí la o con circunflejo) os invita a leer sus textos, de calidad y moralidad dudosas. |
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| 200602062040 | ||||
| 19871200 El ateo que me llevó con Jesús |
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He decidido publicar cuentos de mi infancia. Esa es la razón de presentaros esta narración católica e ingenua, el más antiguo de mis cuentos conservados, que no el primero escrito, puesto que ya antes, allá por el '85, había llegado a publicar en la revista del «cole» la historia de mi cama contada por ella misma. Y tampoco aquella era mi primera experiencia con la pluma. La del escritor, digo. Juzgad el texto como lo que es: un cuento de navidad por encargo, o sea, escrito como ejercicio para clase por un alumno ejemplar de colegio del Opus Dei, en séptimo de EGB (para jóvenes y lectores de otros lugares del mundo, séptimo se estudiaba con doce años... ¡y hay que ver lo simples que éramos entonces a los doce!). No os asustéis más de lo que ya soléis por lo irregular de mis narraciones. No voy a publicar mis cuentos infantilísimos todos de golpe. Seguiré intercalando estilos... Escrito por JTô. 2 críticas constructivas...
Besos
Besines, nos vemos el sábado?? |
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| 200602241610 | ||||
| 1999.09.30. H. |
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If I have decided to include this in my historical review of posts here, it is because it is not a tale or short story. It would fit more in the post concept, though it does not correspond with the date when I made it public... Actually, it was written in September 1999, as you can read in the title, so long before the boom of the blogosphere. And well, this is in English, though a somewhat weird kind. He decidido incluir este texto aquí, en mi histórico de entradas de bitácoras, porque ciertamente no es una narración breve. Encaja más con el concepto de blog, aunque en sí no sea un artículo escrito para su publicación en febrero de 2006, sino que lo escribí en septiembre de 1999, como podéis leer en el título. Por tanto, mucho antes del boom de la blogosfera. Y bueno, es un post en inglés, aunque en un inglés un tanto particular. 
I think im loosin my nerve. I think im loosin control. Its as if i wasnt interested in this project anymore. Everything is in process, mean now its workin on, and depends on other people rather than on me. There is nothing to be created already. That tires nd bores me. Nothing new under the sun by now. Great.Now its when i gotta be stronger and tougher nd oblige myself to go on with it to the end. Till the end. But the point is that i have other things to think about. My own life is right now a mess. I have a house to arrange so as to live there before the end of october. I gotta measure my going out at nite so that i dont ruin everything. I been very close to my own destruction. And im still walking on the edge. Trying to escape from the wild side. Dreaming of love, that thing that ive never found, and i only seen something similar there in the darkness. Wheres my guardian angel? Its easy to hate yourself when u loose your way. Lifes become just job nd love, and i aint found happyness in none of them. I havent found my perfect job. Nd ive never found love. The more u look for the less you find, there. So what should i do? Where should i point at? How shall i have my life filled up? I went through the nite, in search of an answer. But there was no answer to b found there. I looked for the ability to create, writin, sewin nd so on. Hobbies r ok when u got the time. However, it seems that i wont have time anymore. Maybe there was a time when i could have had my hobbies turned into my job. Now im tired. I must do more, I must be more. Yes, i know i could have been more careful when writin this. Escrito por JTô. 1 crítica constructiva...
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