<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437</id><updated>2012-02-16T19:40:19.676-08:00</updated><category term='tenses'/><category term='language'/><category term='first post'/><category term='storytelling'/><title type='text'>Vida y milagros / Life and Miracles</title><subtitle type='html'>This blog has been created as an online journal to share my reflections on life in all its aspects.
&lt;br&gt;

Este blog se ha creado como diario en linea para compartir mis pensamientos sobre la vida en todos sus aspectos.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>183</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-5933325765369314393</id><published>2012-02-08T10:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-08T10:25:14.877-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am going to finish my thesis before April even if it is the last thing I do / Voy a terminar la tesis antes de abril aunque sea lo último que haga</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cO_bakZkBEg/TzK9u7u6vMI/AAAAAAAAAWU/PxA3gUK2Sa8/s1600/deadline.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 275px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cO_bakZkBEg/TzK9u7u6vMI/AAAAAAAAAWU/PxA3gUK2Sa8/s320/deadline.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706832291837951170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo from/ foto de: http://www.nickyspur.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/deadline.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-5933325765369314393?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/5933325765369314393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=5933325765369314393' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5933325765369314393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5933325765369314393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2012/02/i-am-going-to-finish-my-thesis-before.html' title='I am going to finish my thesis before April even if it is the last thing I do / Voy a terminar la tesis antes de abril aunque sea lo último que haga'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cO_bakZkBEg/TzK9u7u6vMI/AAAAAAAAAWU/PxA3gUK2Sa8/s72-c/deadline.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-3999820363898043903</id><published>2012-01-30T14:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-30T14:41:38.146-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dar y Tomar / Give and Take</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/-PBJ_pFF-Ww" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vuelven canciones que no se escuchan en mucho tiempo y con razones muchisimo peores. &lt;br /&gt;songs return, songs that haven't been heard in a long time and with much worse reasons. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El caso es que es facil pensar - e incluso hacerlo, hoy se ve bastante claro - tirarse al mar, que estaba gelido y rabioso esta tarde cuando caminaba casi como zombi, tan cansada que ya no podia pensar mas.&lt;br /&gt;The thing is that it is very easy to think - or even to do it, today it is crystal clear - about jumping into the sea, that was ice cold and enraged this evening when i was walking almost like a zombie, so tired that I could not think any more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me acusan de no respetar el espacio de los demas. &lt;br /&gt;I have been accused of not respecting other people's space. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y esta claro que el suyo, quien me apunta con el dedo (me lo he buscado, me lo he buscado), no lo he sabido respetar ni medir. &lt;br /&gt;And it's clear that that space, the one belonging to whom points at me with the finger (i was looking for it, I was looking for it), I didn't know how to respect and measure. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como dicen en ingles, una visita de mas, una llamada de mas, un mensaje de mas, o muchos de mas. &lt;br /&gt;As they say in English, one visit too many, a call too many, a text too many, or more visits, calls, texts too many. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kXu10xOe-54/TyccgSytYmI/AAAAAAAAAWI/a6vZEhaz7tA/s1600/128794286715049864.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 245px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kXu10xOe-54/TyccgSytYmI/AAAAAAAAAWI/a6vZEhaz7tA/s320/128794286715049864.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5703558794213941858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Entono mea culpa y suplico perdon? &lt;br /&gt;http://www.musica.com/letras.asp?letra=932732 &lt;br /&gt;que lo canta el mismo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should I tune up to a 'mea culpa' and beg for pardon? &lt;br /&gt;http://www.musica.com/letras.asp?letra=932732&lt;br /&gt;which is sung by the same guy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;que ahora me doy cuenta que no le gusta nada a la acusacion&lt;br /&gt;that now I realize the prosecution does not like at all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lo que debo aprender de esto todavia no lo veo, mas que a fogonazos en la oscuridad de la culpabilidad,&lt;br /&gt;what I must learn from this I still do not see, but like flashes in the darkness of guilt, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lamento mucho &lt;br /&gt;todavia me duele herir a la gente que quiero&lt;br /&gt;la historia se repite por diferentes razones ('que me has pisado', 'que me quieras a mi'...etc.)&lt;br /&gt;I am very sorry&lt;br /&gt;it still hurts a lot to hurt the people I love&lt;br /&gt;history repeats itself for several reasons ('you stepped on me', 'you should love me', and so on)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aprendere a dar y tomar de una manera saludable? &lt;br /&gt;Will I learn to give and take in a healthy way? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo from/ foto de: http://images.icanhascheezburger.com/completestore/2009/2/18/128794286715049864.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-3999820363898043903?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/3999820363898043903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=3999820363898043903' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/3999820363898043903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/3999820363898043903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2012/01/dar-y-tomar-give-and-take.html' title='Dar y Tomar / Give and Take'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/-PBJ_pFF-Ww/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-5677803578046684574</id><published>2012-01-23T00:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-23T00:43:16.376-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Vulcanic // Vulcanica</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CmxhxWWyrlU/Tx0doBVyjiI/AAAAAAAAAV8/4bZiT4jxHIA/s1600/1273111185761813.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 302px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CmxhxWWyrlU/Tx0doBVyjiI/AAAAAAAAAV8/4bZiT4jxHIA/s320/1273111185761813.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5700745276712717858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Subcommander T'Pol: What do you suggest I do? (y que sugieres que haga)&lt;br /&gt;Subcommander T'Pol: [old T'Pol] There's a human expression. "Follow your heart." (vieja TPol) Hay una expresion de los humanos. 'Sigue tu corazon'&lt;br /&gt;Subcommander T'Pol: What if my heart doesn't know what it wants? (Y si mi corazon no sabe lo que quiere?)&lt;br /&gt;Subcommander T'Pol: [old T'Pol] It will, in time, It will. (vieja Tpol), lo sabra, con el tiempo, lo sabra&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0244365/quotes &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foto de http://pull.imgfave.netdna-cdn.com/image_cache/1273111185761813.jpeg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-5677803578046684574?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/5677803578046684574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=5677803578046684574' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5677803578046684574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5677803578046684574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2012/01/vulcanic-vulcanica.html' title='Vulcanic // Vulcanica'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CmxhxWWyrlU/Tx0doBVyjiI/AAAAAAAAAV8/4bZiT4jxHIA/s72-c/1273111185761813.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-3164042271693253333</id><published>2012-01-19T00:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T00:57:05.183-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Habits and Sparks / Hábitos y chispas</title><content type='html'>Habits and routines never agree with me entirely, &lt;br /&gt;or if they do, I find myself in the search of the spark. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was a day plenty of spark: &lt;br /&gt;- Prints by Marina Wild ligthening my work space, &lt;br /&gt;- a festival launched at lunch time by another friend and lots of students, &lt;br /&gt;- Irish dancing,&lt;br /&gt;- and you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sparkling up&lt;br /&gt;here and there&lt;br /&gt;round the corner of a text message. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is not easy to resist the temptation of calling you this late just to say good night and then hang up, &lt;br /&gt;just to wrap my voice around ya and tuck you in my scent and warmth right out of the bathtub. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in fact, it is even more difficult to resist the temptation of the habit of kissing you off to dreamland every night&lt;br /&gt;and so, &lt;br /&gt;I won't resist&lt;br /&gt;and therefore this message. Late at night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Habit and spark, you have warmed me up and lit up my smile today&lt;br /&gt;and I must thank for both&lt;br /&gt;and wash away the side effects down the drain --&lt;br /&gt;-- at the end of the 'glub', there is a kiss. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo from: http://www.doctormacro.com/Images/Keaton,%20Buster/Annex/Annex%20-%20Keaton,%20Buster%20%28Parlor,%20Bedroom%20and%20Bath%29_01.jpg&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VWMfPqBR8bs/TxfYZfY3ecI/AAAAAAAAAVY/ix2CU75DwMo/s1600/Annex%2B-%2BKeaton%252C%2BBuster%2B%2528Parlor%252C%2BBedroom%2Band%2BBath%2529_01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 258px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VWMfPqBR8bs/TxfYZfY3ecI/AAAAAAAAAVY/ix2CU75DwMo/s320/Annex%2B-%2BKeaton%252C%2BBuster%2B%2528Parlor%252C%2BBedroom%2Band%2BBath%2529_01.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699261785894779330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Los hábitos y las rutinas nunca me sientan bien del todo&lt;br /&gt;Y si lo hacen, me pillo buscando la chispa. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoy había bien de chispa:  &lt;br /&gt;- Fotos de cuadros de Marina Wild iluminándome la oficina, &lt;br /&gt;- un festival inaugurado a la hora de comer por otra amiga y muchos estudiantes, &lt;br /&gt;- clase de baile irlandés, &lt;br /&gt;- y tú…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chisporroteando&lt;br /&gt;Por aquí y por allá &lt;br /&gt;A la vuelta de la esquina de un mensaje de texto. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No es fácil resistir la tentación de llamarte tan tarde solo para decirte buenas noches y colgar, solo para envolverte con mi voz y arroparte en mi aroma y el calor de la bañera de la que acabo de salir. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero de hecho, todavia es más difícil resistir la tentación del hábito de mandarte al pais de los sueños con un beso cada noche&lt;br /&gt;Así que &lt;br /&gt;No resistiré &lt;br /&gt;Y ahí va este mensaje. Tarde.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hábito y chispa, hoy me has dado calor y luz a mi sonrisa&lt;br /&gt;Y debo dar gracias por los dos&lt;br /&gt;Y dejar que los efectos secundarios se vayan por el sumidero --&lt;br /&gt;-- al final del  'glub', hay un beso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;foto de: http://rlv.zcache.com/deep_love_you_had_me_at_glub_lo_card-p1371324922399386447l0q_325.jpg&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jeMJ3Fbo4_c/Txfa1Hf9XfI/AAAAAAAAAVk/qaREFZuG0TU/s1600/deep_love_you_had_me_at_glub_lo_card-p1371324922399386447l0q_325.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jeMJ3Fbo4_c/Txfa1Hf9XfI/AAAAAAAAAVk/qaREFZuG0TU/s320/deep_love_you_had_me_at_glub_lo_card-p1371324922399386447l0q_325.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699264459541667314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-3164042271693253333?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/3164042271693253333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=3164042271693253333' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/3164042271693253333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/3164042271693253333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2012/01/habits-and-sparks-habitos-y-chispas.html' title='Habits and Sparks / Hábitos y chispas'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VWMfPqBR8bs/TxfYZfY3ecI/AAAAAAAAAVY/ix2CU75DwMo/s72-c/Annex%2B-%2BKeaton%252C%2BBuster%2B%2528Parlor%252C%2BBedroom%2Band%2BBath%2529_01.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-3841805420444190746</id><published>2012-01-18T02:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T02:40:01.060-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Concuerdo / I agree</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XHzSAH67_Wk/Txahe_LNASI/AAAAAAAAAVM/fokrjEdM-M4/s1600/saying-no.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 192px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XHzSAH67_Wk/Txahe_LNASI/AAAAAAAAAVM/fokrjEdM-M4/s320/saying-no.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698919932210512162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La realidad es no. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://personalexcellence.co/blog/images/saying-no.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-3841805420444190746?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/3841805420444190746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=3841805420444190746' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/3841805420444190746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/3841805420444190746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2012/01/concuerdo-i-agree.html' title='Concuerdo / I agree'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XHzSAH67_Wk/Txahe_LNASI/AAAAAAAAAVM/fokrjEdM-M4/s72-c/saying-no.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-7967378367529877779</id><published>2012-01-11T12:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-11T12:59:47.798-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Roots - Raices</title><content type='html'>Hoy mientras estaba en la camilla de masaje de Una, la imagen ha sido muy clara y siempre me pasa con las imagenes como esta: vienen y se van, como estrellas fugaces y te quedas con la cara de tonta, como pensando, si lo hubiera sabido la hubiera pedido un deseo. Hoy por lo menos recuerdo la imagen porque era clara, nitida. Mis pies como las raices fuertes de un arbol viejo. El suelo como el de aqui, tan humedo y tan viejo como el arbol o mas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today while i was lying on Una's massage bed, the image was very clear and it always happens to me with these images: they come and they go, like shooting stars and you look at them there, as if you were thinking, if I had known I would have asked for a wish. Today, at least, i can remember the image, because it was so clear, crystal clear. My feet like strong roots from an old tree. the soil, like the one here, so wet and old as the tree or more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y aunque no haya visto mas, si que se mucho mas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And even though I haven't seen any more, i do know much more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sabia inmediatamente despues de que la imagen se hubiera volado entre las ramas del arbol que era yo, que tenia que escribir esto y he pensado que suerte, hoy es precisamente cuando escribo en mi blog. El miercoles, por Mercurio, el parlanchin. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew immediately that after the image had flown away through the branches of the tree that I was, I had to write this and I thought, how lucky, today is exactly when I write my blog. Wednesday, for Mercury, the chatting box. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y yendome por las ramas, es cuando he visto exactamente lo que tenia que ver. Esos arboles como el Coole park que se abrazan en circulos. Igual ellos tambien se creen que no son nadie solos, sin la gente, sin el arbol de al lado que los toca mas, en el centro. Igual tambien los arboles piensan que su savia no es suficiente, tontorrones. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And beating around the bush, is when I have seen exactly what I had to see. Those trees like the ones in Coole park that hug each other forming a circle. Maybe they also believe that they are no one on their own, without the people, without the tree beside them that feels them more, in the middle. Maybe those trees also think that their sap is not enough, my silly ones. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero saberlo ya es algo. Quiero creer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But knowing it means already something. I want to believe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que carajo, al fin y al cabo, una imagen vale mas que mil palabras. &lt;br /&gt;Anyways, in the end, an image is worth a thousand words. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.veriditashibernica.org/images/oak-tree.jpg&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5NzqwI96pUQ/Tw34NBaExzI/AAAAAAAAAVA/aVG6PQhzXDI/s1600/oak-tree.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 138px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5NzqwI96pUQ/Tw34NBaExzI/AAAAAAAAAVA/aVG6PQhzXDI/s320/oak-tree.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5696482006293333810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-7967378367529877779?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/7967378367529877779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=7967378367529877779' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7967378367529877779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7967378367529877779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2012/01/roots-raices.html' title='Roots - Raices'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5NzqwI96pUQ/Tw34NBaExzI/AAAAAAAAAVA/aVG6PQhzXDI/s72-c/oak-tree.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-4421275906800448322</id><published>2012-01-06T08:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-06T08:38:24.375-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing / Echar de menos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oCvgO0gVZ5k/TwcjfA6l4dI/AAAAAAAAAU0/Lor2sri4zqQ/s1600/missing-link.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 270px; height: 270px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oCvgO0gVZ5k/TwcjfA6l4dI/AAAAAAAAAU0/Lor2sri4zqQ/s320/missing-link.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694559269561950674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;es lo mas dificil, tanto por buenas razones como si no&lt;br /&gt;is the most difficult, either with good reason or not&lt;br /&gt;Foto de&lt;br /&gt;http://www.hotelmarketingstrategies.com/reputation-management-missing-metric/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-4421275906800448322?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/4421275906800448322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=4421275906800448322' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/4421275906800448322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/4421275906800448322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2012/01/missing-echar-de-menos.html' title='Missing / Echar de menos'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oCvgO0gVZ5k/TwcjfA6l4dI/AAAAAAAAAU0/Lor2sri4zqQ/s72-c/missing-link.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-158197762431460679</id><published>2011-12-27T04:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-27T04:35:19.445-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No hay ganas / There is no will</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LitKs5CYAxw/Tvm7g7QnXuI/AAAAAAAAAUo/lMiM6T7qWcA/s1600/7146.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 313px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LitKs5CYAxw/Tvm7g7QnXuI/AAAAAAAAAUo/lMiM6T7qWcA/s320/7146.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5690785778496921314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.eatliver.com/i.php?n=7146&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-158197762431460679?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/158197762431460679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=158197762431460679' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/158197762431460679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/158197762431460679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/12/no-hay-ganas-there-is-no-will.html' title='No hay ganas / There is no will'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LitKs5CYAxw/Tvm7g7QnXuI/AAAAAAAAAUo/lMiM6T7qWcA/s72-c/7146.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-56353731411891161</id><published>2011-12-21T02:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-21T11:05:22.381-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It happens to me / Suele pasarme</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I was full of poetry at this gig &lt;br&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dq6E3y9NkEI/TvG3C1dZl-I/AAAAAAAAAUQ/1dW-lvZjXyo/s1600/image.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 180px; height: 254px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dq6E3y9NkEI/TvG3C1dZl-I/AAAAAAAAAUQ/1dW-lvZjXyo/s320/image.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688529063683659746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt; But it has done to me what I normally do to others, leave quietly. &lt;br /&gt;I wanted to talk about choices. About the world of choices that all of us are completely, choice like maggots swarming inside of us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(English is failing me these days. &lt;br /&gt;I tread upon each word as if it was thin ice, ready to plunge me into the icy waters of the wintry language and I hate parenthesis)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a privileged life that allows me to think we are made of choices. We exist because we have choices and we are manifested according to the choices we make. But all these are chlorified-watery thoughts that drop from the top of my head when I walk out from the swimming pool into the open fresh moving air. So a reality check for validity, relibility and credibility is in order. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I wanted to talk about love. The same love that Dave Rock talked about. Love as a new word that turns out I never mispronounced or betrayed when it left my chest and my throat like a tasty soap water bubble and it tickled your nose, puff. &lt;br /&gt;So love. Here it is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this morning, I am not sure if this thought tackled me in the kitchen while making breakfast, or later on when I sat down in my bed and looked at the seagulls being fed by the man in the seagull feeding corner on top of his house and all around, his house is a seagull-roofed semidetached. And it is fleeting, this thought, I mean, because it is taking me all these lines to retrieve it but, yes, oh yes, i thought... we live in a world of exchange. You receive and you give. You give and you expect to receive. We don't understand giving. We don't understand receiving. Or at least we don't understand them as two manors incommunicated from one another, isolated. Places in its own right. I, mea culpa, understand giving, much better than receiving (although lately, I also question if it is not just the option I choose to crossword myself, to fill in each gap of the word P I L A R)... in any case I'm working on it, I surely am. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CODA: Let's snap it, the rope, I mean. The givers and the receivers tug till it breaks and then just mingle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EstS4-qxWZE/TvG5uXqRTDI/AAAAAAAAAUc/Pb_rNWC8BUo/s1600/tug-of-war.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EstS4-qxWZE/TvG5uXqRTDI/AAAAAAAAAUc/Pb_rNWC8BUo/s320/tug-of-war.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688532010622078002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now in Spanish/ Y ahora en español: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ayer estaba llena de poesía. &lt;br /&gt;Pero me ha hecho lo que normalmente le hago yo a los demás, hacer mutis por el foro. &lt;br /&gt;Quería hablar de opciones. Sobre la cantidad de opciones que somos todos completamente, opciones como gusanos aglomerándose dentro de nosotros. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(El inglés me falla estos días.  &lt;br /&gt;Pongo el pie en cada palabra como si fuera hielo, lista para hundirme en las aguas congeladas del lenguaje invernal y odio los paréntesis)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tengo una vida privilegiada que me permite pensar que estamos hechos de opciones. Existimos porque tenemos opciones y nos manifestamos de acuerdo con las opciones que hacemos. Pero estos son pensamientos clorificados que gotean de mi coronilla cuando salgo de la piscina al aire fresco libre y mobil. Asi que necesito poner los pies en tierra firme para ver la validez, fiabilidad y credibilidad del asunto. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y quería hablar de amor. El mismo amor del que habla Dave Rock. Amor como una palabra nueva que parece que nunca pronunciaba mal o traicionaba cuando se me salía del pecho y la garganta como una pompa de jabón que sabe bien y te hacía cosquillas en la nariz. Pufff. Así que amor. Aquí está. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y esta mañana, no sé si este pensamiento me hizo un placaje en la cocina mientras hacía el desayuno o luego cuando me senté en la cama y miraba a las gaviotas que da de comer el hombre que está en la esquina de dar de comer a las gaviotas encima de su casa y en sus alrededores, que es un pareado de tejado gaviota. Y es fugaz, el pensamiento, porque estoy tardando todas estas lineas en recuperarlo, pero sí, oh sí, pensaba… que vivimos en un mundo de intercambio. Recibes y das. Das y esperas recibir. No entendemos dar. No entendemos recibir. O por lo menos no los entendemos como dos mansiones incomunicadas, aisladas. Lugares de pleno derecho. Yo, mea culpa, entiendo dar muchisimo mejor que recibir, (aunque ultimamente también cuestiono si no es sólo la opción que elijo para autodefinirme, de rellenar cada cuadro de la palabra P I L A R)… en cualquier caso me lo estoy haciendo mirar, seguro. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MORALEJA: Rompámosla, la cuerda, digo. Los dadores y recibidores que tiren hasta que se parta y luego ¡a socializar, ea!.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fotos de/Photos from: https://www.facebook.com/events/218418504902421/&lt;br /&gt;http://jeffreyorloff.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/tug-of-war.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-56353731411891161?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/56353731411891161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=56353731411891161' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/56353731411891161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/56353731411891161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/12/it-happens-to-me-suele-pasarme.html' title='It happens to me / Suele pasarme'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dq6E3y9NkEI/TvG3C1dZl-I/AAAAAAAAAUQ/1dW-lvZjXyo/s72-c/image.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-8351744069779158234</id><published>2011-12-16T07:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-16T07:14:57.446-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Frozen Planet / El Planeta Helado</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F2OGTRz9ti8/TutgbCC27II/AAAAAAAAAUE/EmR6IhSITKY/s1600/Hurtigruten%2BPolar%2BBear%2B-%2Bcredit%2BNina%2BBailey%2BSMALL.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F2OGTRz9ti8/TutgbCC27II/AAAAAAAAAUE/EmR6IhSITKY/s320/Hurtigruten%2BPolar%2BBear%2B-%2Bcredit%2BNina%2BBailey%2BSMALL.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686744972006976642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Helada me he quedado&lt;br /&gt;y no sé a qué ton esta fiebre adolescente de no poder vivir sin dejar de pensar que nos hundimos&lt;br /&gt;con todo el equipo &lt;br /&gt;como en Planeta Helado&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frozen I am&lt;br /&gt;and I don't know why exactly this teenage fever of not being able to live without thinking that we are sinking&lt;br /&gt;with all our equipment / team&lt;br /&gt;as in Frozen Planet &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foto de / Photo from: http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H-vCRTaVEM4/TsYeIUKOpCI/AAAAAAAAA-M/CnthcgnaerA/s1600/Hurtigruten+Polar+Bear+-+credit+Nina+Bailey+SMALL.JPG&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-8351744069779158234?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/8351744069779158234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=8351744069779158234' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/8351744069779158234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/8351744069779158234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/12/frozen-planet-el-planeta-helado.html' title='Frozen Planet / El Planeta Helado'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-F2OGTRz9ti8/TutgbCC27II/AAAAAAAAAUE/EmR6IhSITKY/s72-c/Hurtigruten%2BPolar%2BBear%2B-%2Bcredit%2BNina%2BBailey%2BSMALL.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-6673636674279700433</id><published>2011-11-29T11:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-29T11:17:51.612-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Me encuesto / I interview myself</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-THrrRKJ6WME/TtUv2otecJI/AAAAAAAAAT4/u0S_ODo5TyU/s1600/374371_10150420406499111_642554110_8256862_956507398_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-THrrRKJ6WME/TtUv2otecJI/AAAAAAAAAT4/u0S_ODo5TyU/s320/374371_10150420406499111_642554110_8256862_956507398_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680499120685346962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si te diera un elefante, dónde lo esconderías? If I gave you an Elephant where would you hide it?&lt;br /&gt;No lo escondería. Lo devolvería a la India a pie/ I wouldn’t hide it. I would bring it back to India on foot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si pudieras conocer a cualquiera muerto o vivo, a quién conocerías y qué les dirías? If you could meet anyone in the world dead or alive who would it be and what would say to them?&lt;br /&gt;Ahora me gustaría conocer a Oliver Phelps. Parece un tío guay para tenerlo de amigo. Siempre quiero conocer a la gente a la que admiro. / I’d love to meet Oliver Phelps at the moment. He seems like a cool person to have as a friend. I always seem to want to be friends with people I admire. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si fueras una galleta, cuál serías? / If you were a biscuit, which would you be?&lt;br /&gt;Me gustaría ser una de nueces de macadamia con chocolate blanco, pero me temo que soy pan de jengibre casi siempre / I’d love to be macadamia nut and white chocolate, but I must admit I’m rather gingerbread most of the time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuánto has llegado a estar sin ducharte? What the longest you’ve gone without a shower is?&lt;br /&gt;Dos días. Bueno, espera, en las fiestas del pueblo de mi madre quizás tres o cuatro. Dependiendo cuando llegaramos a casa / 2 days. Well, hang on. In my mother’s village festivals maybe three or four. Depending on when we got back home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cual es el color preferido de calcetines? What is your favourite colour of socks to wear?&lt;br /&gt;Soy bastante aburrida en ese aspecto: negro. / I’m rather boring in that respect. Black. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si estuvieras en una isla desierta sola, que tres cosas te llevarías? If you were stranded on a desert island, what three items would you take with you?&lt;br /&gt;No soy una superviviente, asi que cualquier cosas que me mantuviera con vida: una maquina de hacer comida, una bomba de hacer agua y una medicina para todo/ I’m not a survivor, so anything that would keep me alive: a food-making machine, a water-making pump and a medicine for all diseases. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Llevas slips o boxers? Do you wear boxers or briefs?&lt;br /&gt;Mhmmm, bragas. / That’d be knickers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-6673636674279700433?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/6673636674279700433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=6673636674279700433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/6673636674279700433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/6673636674279700433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/11/me-encuesto-i-interview-myself.html' title='Me encuesto / I interview myself'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-THrrRKJ6WME/TtUv2otecJI/AAAAAAAAAT4/u0S_ODo5TyU/s72-c/374371_10150420406499111_642554110_8256862_956507398_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-5316292433176804367</id><published>2011-11-23T00:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-23T00:40:35.349-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Voting for Beginners / Votar - Primero</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0VUB184n6B8/TsyxUCfcjaI/AAAAAAAAATs/bXYuU0FjYF8/s1600/chou_560851.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 191px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0VUB184n6B8/TsyxUCfcjaI/AAAAAAAAATs/bXYuU0FjYF8/s320/chou_560851.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5678108188031618466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iba a lanzarme sobre el cabreo/tristeza que me da que no contemos, ni voz ni voto. Que en el cambio de 2011/12 se nos vean tanto las bragas y los rotos de los calcetines. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was going to launch and write about the anger/sadness that I feel since we don't count, no voice, no vote. That the change 2011 and 2012 is showing our undies and the holes in our socks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tanto. &lt;br /&gt;tantos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so much. &lt;br /&gt;so many. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.elpais.com/articulo/opinion/maquiavelico/sistema/electoral/espanol/elpepuopi/20080216elpepiopi_11/Tes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero eso es lo que hay. Y como antidoto llevo cantando esta canción desde antes de que empezara este juego maquiavélico de los poderes envenenados. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that's what it is. And as an antidote I've been singing this song since before this machiavelic game of poisoned power started: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/vc-ECPkivJY" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cantad conmigo, por amor de Dios. &lt;br /&gt;Sing with me, for God's sake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo from/ Foto de: http://www.elcorreogallego.es/elecciones/ecg/papeleta-loncha-chorizo-fue-valida-val-do-dubra/idEdicion-2011-11-21/idNoticia-714442/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-5316292433176804367?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/5316292433176804367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=5316292433176804367' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5316292433176804367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5316292433176804367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/11/voting-for-beginners-votar-primero.html' title='Voting for Beginners / Votar - Primero'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0VUB184n6B8/TsyxUCfcjaI/AAAAAAAAATs/bXYuU0FjYF8/s72-c/chou_560851.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-8595080981504266875</id><published>2011-11-16T13:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T13:16:48.299-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We are in a good state / Estamos buenos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-b_hD76WaSVY/TsQmjqlrtrI/AAAAAAAAATg/1h8sEX94bsQ/s1600/SuperStock_1828R-9089.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-b_hD76WaSVY/TsQmjqlrtrI/AAAAAAAAATg/1h8sEX94bsQ/s320/SuperStock_1828R-9089.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675703824563287730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo from/ de: http://wwwdelivery.superstock.com/WI/223/1828/PreviewComp/SuperStock_1828R-9089.jpg&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se me viene a la imagen esta mente de sumidero&lt;br /&gt;It comes to my image this mind of draining&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hay semanas como esta en que empiezo a ser espiral y atraigo hacia mi todas las penurias de los que me componen&lt;br /&gt;There are weeks like this in which I become a spiral and I attract towards me the little grieves of those that I am made of&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regina, Ilaria, mi hermana, mi madre, mi sobrino&lt;br /&gt;Regina, Ilaria, My sister, My mother, My nephew&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todos los que andan en activo&lt;br /&gt;Everybody who is active at the moment&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Growing pains&lt;br /&gt;Los problemas crecen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El dinero y la mala suerte &lt;br /&gt;La mala salud de los familiares (a la cuarta)&lt;br /&gt;Money and bad luck&lt;br /&gt;the bad health of relative (to the fourth power)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y claro andan tan mal las cosas ( de los demas insisto) que me encojo - no de hombros - sino de espiritu y me agacho asi bajito para que esta mala racha me pase de largo a mi. Me da tanto miedo que me toque. &lt;br /&gt;And well, things are so bad (other people's things, I insist) that I shrink - not shrug - my spirit and crouch down very low so that this bad spur goes by me. It is so scary it'll come my way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nota mental: Unir este mensaje con el que publique en el blog hace dos semanas&lt;br /&gt;Mental note: Join together this post with the one I posted on the blog two weeks ago. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asi que no se, supongo que habra que quitarle el tapon al sumidero. Dejar que las cosas nos pasen pero pasen de nosotros mas alla. &lt;br /&gt;So I don't know, I guess that we will have to take off the stopper in the sink. let things pass but beyond us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glub glub.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-8595080981504266875?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/8595080981504266875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=8595080981504266875' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/8595080981504266875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/8595080981504266875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/11/we-are-in-good-state-estamos-buenos.html' title='We are in a good state / Estamos buenos'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-b_hD76WaSVY/TsQmjqlrtrI/AAAAAAAAATg/1h8sEX94bsQ/s72-c/SuperStock_1828R-9089.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-3246986299181340691</id><published>2011-11-08T13:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-08T13:32:54.582-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Vivita y coleando / alive and kicking (but I like tailing much better)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-85dwnwEo0gA/TrmfRa9Ne-I/AAAAAAAAATU/irtLNdZ6vU4/s1600/comandog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 223px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-85dwnwEo0gA/TrmfRa9Ne-I/AAAAAAAAATU/irtLNdZ6vU4/s320/comandog.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672740327292500962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo de/ from: http://www.alu.ua.es/m/mmt3/IMAGES/comandog.jpg &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A pesar de los malos augurios de la semana pasada aquí seguimos, quién sabe por cuanto tiempo. &lt;br /&gt;In spite of the sense of foreboding last week, here we are, who knows for how long. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Muy cansada y muy guapa al mismo tiempo :) &lt;br /&gt;Very tired and pretty at the same time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dancing away to the end of the semester&lt;br /&gt;vailando hacia el final del semestre &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sin saber muy bien como&lt;br /&gt;without knowing very well how&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me he traído hasta aquí al comando g&lt;br /&gt;será que quiero convocar a fuerzas superirores&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've brought here the G Commanders&lt;br /&gt;I probably want to summon higher forces&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;porque lo que son las fuerzas del estado decepcionarían a cualquiera&lt;br /&gt;because the state forces would let anyone down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;qué desastre de política parlamentaria dioses del olimpo&lt;br /&gt;what a disastrous approach to parlamentary politics, gods of the Olympus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-3246986299181340691?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/3246986299181340691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=3246986299181340691' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/3246986299181340691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/3246986299181340691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/11/vivita-y-coleando-alive-and-kicking-but.html' title='Vivita y coleando / alive and kicking (but I like tailing much better)'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-85dwnwEo0gA/TrmfRa9Ne-I/AAAAAAAAATU/irtLNdZ6vU4/s72-c/comandog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-5237577754182725857</id><published>2011-11-01T15:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-01T15:38:45.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sudden Death // Muerte Repentina</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KG2Yd4cIFQA/TrBxk4rnSWI/AAAAAAAAATI/PtwuyhTAGkI/s1600/mba0869l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 281px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KG2Yd4cIFQA/TrBxk4rnSWI/AAAAAAAAATI/PtwuyhTAGkI/s320/mba0869l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670156809363999074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo from / foto de http://www.cartoonstock.com/lowres/mba0869l.jpg&lt;br /&gt;Traducción: Parece que se ahogó. Probablemente por pensar demasiado. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vaya pensamientos alegres que me da por tener algunos días. Lo sé. Me he estado riendo de mi misma al sentirle miedo otra vez, no a la muerte en sí, sino a morirme ahora. Porque supongo que eso significa que estoy disfrutando de lo que hago y que tengo ganas de disfrutar más. Porque estoy currandome mejorar las cosas y no me gustaría morirme sin verlas mejor y disfrutarlas. Pero ahí está el quid de la cuestión realmente. Me daba cuenta hoy cuando iba - pensando demasiado - a la clase de Empresariales de primero por el pasillo lánguido y desangelado que comunica el edificio concourse y el de informática. Me daba cuenta de que el problema es ése. El escapar hacia adelante, el siempre querer estar en el siguiente nenufar, porque seguro que es más estable y más bonito que este. Y no. Aquí estoy, porque he venido. Y es lo único que tengo claro. No sé si estuve aquí ayer, ya es un borratajo de la memoria y mañana no lo puedo saber, no? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such happy thoughts I have some days! I know. I have been laughing at myself at fearing death again, not death himself, but of dying now. Because I guess that that means that i'm enjoying what i'm doing and that i want to enjoy some more. Because I'm working on improving things and I wouldn't like to die without seeing them get better and enjoying them, but that's the crux of the issue really. I realized today when I walked - thinking tto much - towards my first year commerce class along the languid and uninspiring corridor that communicates the Concourse building with the IT building. I realized that that is the problem indeed. Escaping forward, always wanting to be on the next lilypad, because certainly it must be more stable and beautiful than this one. And it is not. Here I am, because I have arrived. And that's the only thing I know for sure. I don't know if i was here yesterday because it's already a draft of my memory and tomorrow I can't really know, can I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pues eso. &lt;br /&gt;So yeah. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lo que supongo me agarraba así más fuerte del píloro :) - de algo tiene que servir el Santillana de ciencias naturales - es que siempre le he tenido miedo a la muerte repentina, al no poderse despedir, qué falta de educación por Dios. Porque no les deseo eso a los míos. Me encantaría poder besar en la frente uno a uno a los que me quieren, me han querido y a los que yo quiero y he querido (y conste que no siempre coinciden esas variables). Me gustaría compartirles esa ausencia de miedo a la muerte en sí y la confianza de que no les deseo ningún mal ni ninguna tristeza a mi causa. Es como si en esas otras vidas que me imagino, me hubiera ido sin despedir y me aterrara la idea de no poder poner las cosas en orden para los demás, para mis otros. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I guess grabbed me by the pylorus tightly :) - my science book by Santillana comes in handy sometimes - is that I have always been scared of sudden death, of not being able to say goodbye, how terribly impolite, for God's sake!. Because I don't wish that upon my folks. I would love to be able to kiss on the forehead one by one those who love me and have loved me and those I love and I have loved (and notice that those variables not always belong to the same people). I'd love to share with them that absence of fear of death as such and the trust that I don't wish any evil upon them or any grief on my behalf. It's as if in those other lives that I can imagine, I would have passed away without a farewell and I was terrified by the idea of not being able to put things in order for everybody else, for my 'others'. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Así que aquí queda patente mi excusa, de que si así ocurriera en un día futuro impredecible, lo lamento y me disculpo de antemano por algo que no puedo controlar. &lt;br /&gt;So here it is marked by my typing fingers as an excuse that if it ever happened in a future unpredictable day, I am sorry and I apologize beforehand for something beyond my power to control.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-5237577754182725857?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/5237577754182725857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=5237577754182725857' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5237577754182725857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5237577754182725857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/11/sudden-death-muerte-repentina.html' title='Sudden Death // Muerte Repentina'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KG2Yd4cIFQA/TrBxk4rnSWI/AAAAAAAAATI/PtwuyhTAGkI/s72-c/mba0869l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-8773486671627107227</id><published>2011-10-26T13:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-26T13:15:03.588-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Making an effort to keep calm // Hacer esfuerzos para conservar la calma</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FF82aVgJlC4/TqhpXBboA9I/AAAAAAAAAS0/r4Hp5m9cjaQ/s1600/Calm-333x500.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FF82aVgJlC4/TqhpXBboA9I/AAAAAAAAAS0/r4Hp5m9cjaQ/s320/Calm-333x500.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667895975287981010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foto de / photo from: &lt;br /&gt;http://sitenyc.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/Calm-333x500.jpg&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pues que te voy a decir?&lt;br /&gt;Well, what can I say? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forzarse a caminar por las calles sin rumbo, salir para dejar de mirar el techo y descubrir que entre las grietas estan todos los miedos, los mieditos y los miedazos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Forcing yourself to go out walking in the street adrift, going out to stop looking at the ceiling and to stop finding that between the cracks reside all fears, big and small. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque lo que pasa es que a la hora de caminar ya no le quedan fuerzas a uno para preocuparse y ansiarse&lt;br /&gt;because what happens is that after an hour walking, you don't have more strength to worry or get anxious&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;para encontrar lo que no estas haciendo y deberias&lt;br /&gt;to find what you are not doing and you should be doing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;para cerrarse la puerta en las narices &lt;br /&gt;to shut your own door in your own face&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;asi pues, nademos, pedaleemos, hasta caernos en el infinito del cansansio&lt;br /&gt;hasta forzarnos a conservar la calma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so then, let's swim, cycle, until we fall into the infinite space of tiredness,&lt;br /&gt;until we force ourselves to keep calm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-8773486671627107227?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/8773486671627107227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=8773486671627107227' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/8773486671627107227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/8773486671627107227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/10/making-effort-to-keep-calm-hacer.html' title='Making an effort to keep calm // Hacer esfuerzos para conservar la calma'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FF82aVgJlC4/TqhpXBboA9I/AAAAAAAAAS0/r4Hp5m9cjaQ/s72-c/Calm-333x500.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-7780510054759107072</id><published>2011-10-19T11:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-19T11:30:39.799-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I find myself lacking... // Me encuentro falta de...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pofI1z3Us4c/Tp8XSyNrBhI/AAAAAAAAASo/Re4UvoipQD8/s1600/rman1484l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 274px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pofI1z3Us4c/Tp8XSyNrBhI/AAAAAAAAASo/Re4UvoipQD8/s320/rman1484l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665272467739575826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iron&lt;br /&gt;Hierro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sugar&lt;br /&gt;Azúcar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B vitamins&lt;br /&gt;Vitamina B&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty sure the explanation goes beyond physical states&lt;br /&gt;Seguro que la explicación va más allá de lo físico&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photograph from / Foto de: &lt;br /&gt;http://www.cartoonstock.com/newscartoons/cartoonists/rma/lowres/rman1484l.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-7780510054759107072?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/7780510054759107072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=7780510054759107072' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7780510054759107072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7780510054759107072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/10/i-find-myself-lacking-me-encuentro.html' title='I find myself lacking... // Me encuentro falta de...'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pofI1z3Us4c/Tp8XSyNrBhI/AAAAAAAAASo/Re4UvoipQD8/s72-c/rman1484l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-5474251436114526638</id><published>2011-10-12T15:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-12T15:54:22.562-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Asi ya se puede // This way we can :)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1pEOebxEaT4/TpYaiCSrzoI/AAAAAAAAASc/hrkCrYXGXJs/s1600/te%2Bamo%2Bse%2Bme%2Bnota.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 296px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1pEOebxEaT4/TpYaiCSrzoI/AAAAAAAAASc/hrkCrYXGXJs/s320/te%2Bamo%2Bse%2Bme%2Bnota.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662742753498091138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si Obama lo hubiera dicho así en español hasta igual le hubiéramos creido&lt;br /&gt;If Obama had said it like this in Spanish maybe we would have believed him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero bueno, el caso es que tengo amigos y familia que se toman todo al pie de la letra incluso si está en internet, como este blog. &lt;br /&gt;But anyway, the thing is that I've got friends and family that take everything literally even if it's on the internet, like this blog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Repasemos &lt;br /&gt;Let's review: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Quiero ser la mujer más especial del mundo en ese día / I want to be the most especial woman in the world that day. &lt;br /&gt;Hecho / Tick &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Quiero que me hagan cosas con sus manos / I want people to make things for me with their own hands. &lt;br /&gt;Hecho / Tick &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Molinillo de café/ Coffee grinder&lt;br /&gt;Hecho / Tick &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Un smartphone. &lt;br /&gt;Hombre es que a veces me paso pidiendo / come on, I was a bit greedy there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Una pluma estilográfica / A fountain pen &lt;br /&gt;Y pa que si aquí no hay tinta en condiciones / and what for if there is not nice ink here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Albornoz con capucha / Bath gown with a hood&lt;br /&gt;Hecho / Tick &lt;br /&gt;Y justo el que queria  y no me atrevi a comprar / And exactly the one i wanted and I didn't dare to buy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Pendientes, joyas, cosas que nunca me pongo / earrings, jewelery, things I never wear&lt;br /&gt;Hecho / Tick &lt;br /&gt;la de ellos / so many of them &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. PIntura negra de tela / Black ink for cloth. &lt;br /&gt;me la compro mañana mismo / i'll get it tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Spray para la habitación de aromaterapia / Room spray. &lt;br /&gt;No pero el peace of mind on the spot no lo supera nadie / no, i didn't but the peace of mind on the spot no lo supera nadie&lt;br /&gt;http://www.boots.com/en/Origins-Peace-Of-Mind-On-The-Spot-Relief-0-5fl-oz-15ml_34747/ &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Flores / Flowers. &lt;br /&gt;Hecho/ Tick&lt;br /&gt;Everywhere / Por todas partes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y tantos mensajes, tantas cosas bonitas de los cercanos y no tanto, que me encanta recibir esta avalancha&lt;br /&gt;and so many messages, so many beautiful things from the close ones and not so close, that I love receiving this avalanche... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y ese masaje de esta mañana y el paseo por el cementerio de Bothermore al que nunca había entrado... &lt;br /&gt;and the massage this morning and the walk on the cemetery of Bothermore, on which I had never dared to tread...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y el rap&lt;br /&gt;and the rap&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y la postal inesperadamente feliciana&lt;br /&gt;and the unexpectedly happy postcard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dios mio que grandes&lt;br /&gt;god, such great people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asi que ahi queda, por si tengo algún día malo y se me olvida&lt;br /&gt;So there it goes, just in case I have a bad day and I forget&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and you forgive... of course, the bad days&lt;br /&gt;y me perdonáis, claro, los días malos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cómo me queréis, carajo. &lt;br /&gt;Feck, how much ye love me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero no tiene ni comparación con lo que yo os quiero, se me note o no. &lt;br /&gt;But it does not compare at all with how much i love ye, whether ye notice or not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ale. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Photo from / foto de: http://www.dalelujo.com/data/media/21/te%20amo%20se%20me%20nota.jpg)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-5474251436114526638?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/5474251436114526638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=5474251436114526638' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5474251436114526638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5474251436114526638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/10/asi-ya-se-puede-this-way-we-can.html' title='Asi ya se puede // This way we can :)'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1pEOebxEaT4/TpYaiCSrzoI/AAAAAAAAASc/hrkCrYXGXJs/s72-c/te%2Bamo%2Bse%2Bme%2Bnota.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-5786697495869709852</id><published>2011-10-02T15:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-02T15:16:04.051-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Esa época del año / That time of the year</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qcepZ-vD0aw/TojhIUF1N1I/AAAAAAAAASU/Ck2IAJ0LrWU/s1600/notebook.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 251px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qcepZ-vD0aw/TojhIUF1N1I/AAAAAAAAASU/Ck2IAJ0LrWU/s320/notebook.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659020464739399506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo from/ foto de : http://www.kamenlee.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/11/notebook.jpg&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's that time of the year again&lt;br /&gt;Es esa época del año de nuevo &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here it goes&lt;br /&gt;Así que aquí va&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By order of preference&lt;br /&gt;Por orden de preferencia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Quiero ser la mujer más especial del mundo en ese día / I want to be the most especial woman in the world that day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Quiero que me hagan cosas con sus manos / I want people to make things for me with their own hands. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Molinillo de café/ Coffee grinder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Un smartphone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Una pluma estilográfica / A fountain pen &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Albornoz con capucha / Bath gown with a hood&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Pendientes, joyas, cosas que nunca me pongo / earrings, jewelery, things I never wear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. PIntura negra de tela / Black ink for cloth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Spray para la habitación de aromaterapia / Room spray. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Flores / Flowers. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But above all, number 1 and 2. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero sobre todo el número 1 y 2. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although I must admit: Surprises are always welcome &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aunque debo admitir que las sorpresas siempre son bienvenidas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even when they have already arrived: A trip to Wicklow sounds wonderful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Incluso cuando ya han llegado: Un viaje a Wicklow mola.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-5786697495869709852?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/5786697495869709852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=5786697495869709852' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5786697495869709852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5786697495869709852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/10/esa-epoca-del-ano-that-time-of-year.html' title='Esa época del año / That time of the year'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qcepZ-vD0aw/TojhIUF1N1I/AAAAAAAAASU/Ck2IAJ0LrWU/s72-c/notebook.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-6665623988504126372</id><published>2011-09-28T00:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-28T00:31:04.561-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Contra-dicciones: Ignoro todo / Contra-dictions: I ignore it all.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D8SCfw52pDE/ToLMfozC30I/AAAAAAAAASA/96IJgP-Bs6A/s1600/contradiction1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D8SCfw52pDE/ToLMfozC30I/AAAAAAAAASA/96IJgP-Bs6A/s320/contradiction1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657308925830291266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todos los caminos llevan a Roma. &lt;br /&gt;All roads lead to Rome. &lt;br /&gt;Pero y si yo no quiero ir, qué?!&lt;br /&gt;but if i don't want to go, what?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-E26x7RyLAvo/ToLMEjWMI3I/AAAAAAAAAR4/dXoRgD_x_6w/s1600/2568578614_d03a0b5fcd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-E26x7RyLAvo/ToLMEjWMI3I/AAAAAAAAAR4/dXoRgD_x_6w/s320/2568578614_d03a0b5fcd.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657308460510618482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;una red para no caer en el suelo se puede convertir en una carga&lt;br /&gt;si hay que recogerla y llevársela a cuestas, no? &lt;br /&gt;a net - to protect us from hitting the ground - can turn into a burden&lt;br /&gt;if you need to pick it up and carry it, can't it? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quien lo sabe? Who knows? &lt;br /&gt;Hoy yo no. I don't today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;como siempre: http://www.insite.com.br/art/pessoa/ficcoes/acampos/456.php&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photos from/ fotos de: &lt;br /&gt;http://blog.thefoundationstone.org/wp-content/uploads/2010/03/contradiction1.jpg&lt;br /&gt;http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3193/2568578614_d03a0b5fcd.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-6665623988504126372?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/6665623988504126372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=6665623988504126372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/6665623988504126372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/6665623988504126372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/09/contra-dicciones-ignoro-todo-contra.html' title='Contra-dicciones: Ignoro todo / Contra-dictions: I ignore it all.'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D8SCfw52pDE/ToLMfozC30I/AAAAAAAAASA/96IJgP-Bs6A/s72-c/contradiction1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-2165957268115951079</id><published>2011-09-20T00:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-20T00:09:58.015-07:00</updated><title type='text'>En huelga. Hoy no escribo // On Strike. I won't write today</title><content type='html'>En españoL --&gt; http://www.elpais.com/articulo/sociedad/Miles/profesores/protestan/recortes/educacion/elpepusoc/20110920elpepusoc_1/Tes &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En inglés --&gt; &lt;br /&gt;http://translate.google.ie/translate?sl=auto&amp;tl=en&amp;js=n&amp;prev=_t&amp;hl=en&amp;ie=UTF-8&amp;layout=2&amp;eotf=1&amp;u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.elpais.com%2Farticulo%2Fsociedad%2FMiles%2Fprofesores%2Fprotestan%2Frecortes%2Feducacion%2Felpepusoc%2F20110920elpepusoc_1%2FTes&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-2165957268115951079?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/2165957268115951079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=2165957268115951079' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/2165957268115951079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/2165957268115951079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/09/en-huelga-hoy-no-escribo-on-strike-i.html' title='En huelga. Hoy no escribo // On Strike. I won&apos;t write today'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-1137960380877868595</id><published>2011-09-14T01:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-14T13:38:58.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Visado de Pobre // Poor-person Visa</title><content type='html'>Hoy me he levantado pensando en lo que significa ser pobre. De hecho me he levantado pensando en lo que significa llevar estigma de pobre en el medio de la frente como si fuera el circulín rojo ese de los budistas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I've woken up thinking about what to be poor means. In fact, I've woken up thinking about what carrying the mark of being poor in the middle of your forehead means, as if it were the little red dot that Buddhists wear. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LSbHifGoBZY/TnBkPyNHOGI/AAAAAAAAARo/0-ibq5YXzz4/s1600/20070925125620-mafalda-pobre.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 276px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LSbHifGoBZY/TnBkPyNHOGI/AAAAAAAAARo/0-ibq5YXzz4/s320/20070925125620-mafalda-pobre.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652127754687559778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo from/ foto de Quino: http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8oq6yo5Dvug/SEE23CuwbYI/AAAAAAAABtI/GMrxyo2Ozn4/s400/20070925125620-mafalda-pobre.gif&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yo no soy pobre. Ni lo quiero ser. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not poor. Neither do I want to be. (Spanish dancer clicks a shoe)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zd9ORPXBf24/TnBk6x6erCI/AAAAAAAAARw/Fge55CPzjdI/s1600/familiaEspanola11-150x150.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zd9ORPXBf24/TnBk6x6erCI/AAAAAAAAARw/Fge55CPzjdI/s320/familiaEspanola11-150x150.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652128493343779874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://blogs.grupojoly.com/tacho-rufino/files/2010/12/familiaEspanola11-150x150.jpg&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt; Pero en mi casa hay un montón de fotos de éstas. &lt;br /&gt;But at home there are a lot of photographs like these. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(TO BE CONTINUED - Continuará - porque no soy pobre pero soy esclava del gobierno y me tengo que ir a trabajar / because I'm not poor but I'm a slave of the government and I gotta go to work)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21.00&lt;br /&gt;Continuo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9 p.m.&lt;br /&gt;I shall continue. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pensaba entonces esta mañana en lo de carné de pobre, visado lo había llamado, ir de pobre por la vida. Hay quién va de pobre por la vida sin haberlo heredado, es decir teniendo herencias. Y hay quién no va de pobre y lleva la patina de una herencia ancestral de pobreza y hambre. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking so, this morning, about this poor i.d., visa I called it, walking about as if you were a poor person. There are people that look poor without having inherited that legacy, in other words, having an inheritance or several. And there are those who do not look poor but have the shade of an ancestral legacy of poverty and hunger. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y ahí está mi padre, de niño. Saltando tapias para comer higos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there is my dad, as a child. Jumping walls to eat figs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cómo se borra esa herencia de la piel? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you erase that legacy from your skin? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque yo no soy pobre, ni lo quiero ser. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I'm not poor, neither do I want to be so. (Spanish dancer clicks a shoe)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y esta mañana no me preocupaba tanto esto, sino que me maravillaba el otro tipo de persona, los que parecen pobres sin serlo, los que tienen un sitio donde caerse muertos, que siempre lo han tenido. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this morning, really, i wasn't that worried about this, but I wondered at the other type of person, those that seem poor without being poor, those who do have a place to hang their hats on, those who have always had it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tienen los bolsillos vacíos, toman dinero prestado y caminan por la vida sin la preocupación del ahorro. 'Porque tienen donde rascar'. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their pockets are empty, they borrow money and they walk about without the worry of saving up. 'Because they know where to go to find it'. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es mi padre, de nuevo, el que habla. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's my dad, again, speaking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi hipocresía es la inversa. Actúo como si no tuviera dinero, como si fuera pobre. Y en cambio, no lo soy (ni lo quiero ser). Pero para nosotros (como unidad familiar) la riqueza es algo nuevo, algo recién estrenado y supongo que como todo traje nuevo, llegamos a preocuparnos en extremo porque no se estropee, no se rompa, no lo perdamos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hypocresy is the opposite. I act as if I had no money, as if I were poor. And on the other hand, I am not (neither do I want to be) (Spanish dancer clicks a shoe), but for us (as a family unit), wealth is a new thing, something we just put on lately, and I guess that like any other type of new clothing, we get to worry about it too much just in case it gets spoiled, torn, lost. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Riqueza estropeada, rota o perdida. Bonita imagen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spoiled, torn, lost wealth. A pretty image. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Solo era eso. Que me parece curioso el ser humano. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was just that. That being human seems curious to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arriba la barca, 1,2 y 3. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spanish dancer chooses you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-1137960380877868595?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/1137960380877868595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=1137960380877868595' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/1137960380877868595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/1137960380877868595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/09/visado-de-pobre-poorperson-visa.html' title='Visado de Pobre // Poor-person Visa'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LSbHifGoBZY/TnBkPyNHOGI/AAAAAAAAARo/0-ibq5YXzz4/s72-c/20070925125620-mafalda-pobre.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-336695523389707763</id><published>2011-09-12T14:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-12T14:43:57.615-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Huracan Katia / Katia Hurricane</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="420" height="345" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/oNgSeJzLJFc" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-336695523389707763?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/336695523389707763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=336695523389707763' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/336695523389707763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/336695523389707763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/09/huracan-katia-katia-hurricane.html' title='Huracan Katia / Katia Hurricane'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/oNgSeJzLJFc/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-7699501780768377133</id><published>2011-09-06T23:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-06T23:49:42.813-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1-Up85WCCBk/TmcTubCeUzI/AAAAAAAAARg/iDo0xWfSttY/s1600/ayurvedic-tri-doshas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 249px; height: 179px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1-Up85WCCBk/TmcTubCeUzI/AAAAAAAAARg/iDo0xWfSttY/s320/ayurvedic-tri-doshas.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5649505945812620082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo from/ foto de: http://healthy-ojas.com/assets/system/ayurvedic-tri-doshas.jpg&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asi son las cosas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such are things&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uno tira para arriba&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Otro para abajo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y otro empuja para adelante&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One pulls up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;another pulls down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and the other pushes ahead&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y menos mal, supongo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and thank goodness, I guess&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-7699501780768377133?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/7699501780768377133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=7699501780768377133' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7699501780768377133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7699501780768377133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/09/photo-from-foto-de-httphealthy-ojas.html' title=''/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1-Up85WCCBk/TmcTubCeUzI/AAAAAAAAARg/iDo0xWfSttY/s72-c/ayurvedic-tri-doshas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-4139975306524299144</id><published>2011-08-29T07:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T08:10:39.507-07:00</updated><title type='text'>“Strange is our Situation Here Upon Earth.” A. Einstein // Rara es nuestra situación aquí en la tierra. A. Einstein</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-35XA5bHncKc/Tlur66lYUBI/AAAAAAAAARY/xvfdXiY2OO8/s1600/Weird_World_by_FlowFlame.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-35XA5bHncKc/Tlur66lYUBI/AAAAAAAAARY/xvfdXiY2OO8/s320/Weird_World_by_FlowFlame.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5646295586485850130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ultimamente la vida va como a trompicones.&lt;br /&gt;Lately life tramples upon its own speed. &lt;br /&gt;Mientras ayer hacía bromas de bestiario con California: si mezclara o mezclase B con OB, me sale BOB...&lt;br /&gt;While yesterday I was making bestiary jokes with California: If I mixed B with OB, I would get BOB. &lt;br /&gt;Hoy me he levantado como si ayer se hubiera acabado el mundo o como si hubiéramos ganado la copa del mundo. &lt;br /&gt;Today I have woken up as if yesterday the world would have ended or as if we would have gone the world cup. &lt;br /&gt;Me sentía de una manera tan inesperada que no me ha costado contar el esqueleto del fin de semana por la mañana en la cocina. &lt;br /&gt;I felt in such an unexpected way that I did not find it difficult to tell the skeleton of the weekend in the kitchen this morning. &lt;br /&gt;Echar de menos es raro. Y más raro cuando se echa de menos a quien no se esperaba, a quien no se había echado unas horas antes. &lt;br /&gt;Missing is strange. And stranger it is when you miss whom you did not expect it, whom you hadn’t missed hours earlier. &lt;br /&gt;El corazón tiene que estar hecho de un material rarísimo. &lt;br /&gt;The heart must be made of a very strange material. &lt;br /&gt;Hablar con alguien media hora y que te demuestren cariño, - flojito, pero cariño al fin y al cabo- puede llegar a ser suficiente para hacer jaque. &lt;br /&gt;Speaking to someone for half an hour and letting them show their affection, - soft, but affection after all- can be enough to do a check. &lt;br /&gt;Así que todo es más fácil de lo que parece. &lt;br /&gt;So everything is easier than it seems.&lt;br /&gt;Y más complicado, supongo. &lt;br /&gt;And more complicated, I guess. &lt;br /&gt;Al final, y mira que lo he disputado veces, van a tener razón los que dicen que la ausencia fortalece el amor. &lt;br /&gt;After all, and after arguing so many times against it, I’m going to have to agree with those who say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo de/ foto from: http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2010/219/1/e/Weird_World_by_FlowFlame.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-4139975306524299144?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/4139975306524299144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=4139975306524299144' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/4139975306524299144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/4139975306524299144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/08/strange-is-our-situation-here-upon.html' title='“Strange is our Situation Here Upon Earth.” A. Einstein // Rara es nuestra situación aquí en la tierra. A. Einstein'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-35XA5bHncKc/Tlur66lYUBI/AAAAAAAAARY/xvfdXiY2OO8/s72-c/Weird_World_by_FlowFlame.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-272082928894115204</id><published>2011-08-23T14:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-23T14:55:05.795-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I like to play all day long in my room / Me gusta jugar el día entero en mi cuarto</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="420" height="345" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/YNfLrV-ydD8" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-272082928894115204?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/272082928894115204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=272082928894115204' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/272082928894115204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/272082928894115204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-like-to-play-all-day-long-in-my-room.html' title='I like to play all day long in my room / Me gusta jugar el día entero en mi cuarto'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/YNfLrV-ydD8/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-1863064577054941883</id><published>2011-08-23T12:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-23T12:55:18.377-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Scared again / Los miedos de nuevo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lXK-dqwnSQ0/TlQFm4ALIGI/AAAAAAAAARQ/owVJzeOGn4U/s1600/juice.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lXK-dqwnSQ0/TlQFm4ALIGI/AAAAAAAAARQ/owVJzeOGn4U/s320/juice.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644142398428356706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Los tuyos o los míos? &lt;br /&gt;Qué manía con compartirlo todo&lt;br /&gt;Que guay que lo compartimos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yours or mine? &lt;br /&gt;How boring it is to share everything&lt;br /&gt;How cool that we share it &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;photo from/ foto de: https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-75cAzQmEX4c/TXmWyd3eVbI/AAAAAAAAAXA/M3-uGx2IAm8/s1600/juice.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-1863064577054941883?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/1863064577054941883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=1863064577054941883' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/1863064577054941883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/1863064577054941883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/08/scared-again-los-miedos-de-nuevo.html' title='Scared again / Los miedos de nuevo'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lXK-dqwnSQ0/TlQFm4ALIGI/AAAAAAAAARQ/owVJzeOGn4U/s72-c/juice.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-483821403014724777</id><published>2011-08-08T00:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-08T00:29:40.977-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not scared any more // No me da miedo ya</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AFfMO-OURzI/Tj-QYdY7tcI/AAAAAAAAARI/ni1z_jUk5AU/s1600/ommanipadmehum.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 312px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AFfMO-OURzI/Tj-QYdY7tcI/AAAAAAAAARI/ni1z_jUk5AU/s320/ommanipadmehum.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638384008371615170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La soledad&lt;br /&gt;... puesto que alguien dijo que es el imperio de la conciencia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;loneliness...&lt;br /&gt;because someone said that it's the empire of awareness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gustavo adolfo becquer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;om mani padme hum&lt;br /&gt;photo from/ foto de : http://www.wonkwangsa.net/public/upload/images/ommanipadmehum.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-483821403014724777?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/483821403014724777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=483821403014724777' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/483821403014724777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/483821403014724777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/08/not-scared-any-more-no-me-da-miedo-ya.html' title='Not scared any more // No me da miedo ya'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AFfMO-OURzI/Tj-QYdY7tcI/AAAAAAAAARI/ni1z_jUk5AU/s72-c/ommanipadmehum.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-7280271356461773595</id><published>2011-08-03T08:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-03T08:56:23.699-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bloody hard it is to... / muy dificil es...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1z4rh4rMvdo/TjlvoRZVFjI/AAAAAAAAARA/Tu5QwJ5PoVw/s1600/never-give-up-300x189.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 189px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1z4rh4rMvdo/TjlvoRZVFjI/AAAAAAAAARA/Tu5QwJ5PoVw/s320/never-give-up-300x189.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636659146285979186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo by Jacky Fleming&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-7280271356461773595?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/7280271356461773595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=7280271356461773595' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7280271356461773595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7280271356461773595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/08/bloody-hard-it-is-to-muy-dificil-es.html' title='Bloody hard it is to... / muy dificil es...'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1z4rh4rMvdo/TjlvoRZVFjI/AAAAAAAAARA/Tu5QwJ5PoVw/s72-c/never-give-up-300x189.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-2907433385523524517</id><published>2011-07-30T10:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-30T10:53:20.305-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Number 12 - Número 12</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_Xpv3IwVL-U/TjRErosjrmI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/YF2clJyh3YY/s1600/the-plight-of-the-hangman1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 298px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_Xpv3IwVL-U/TjRErosjrmI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/YF2clJyh3YY/s320/the-plight-of-the-hangman1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635204550196702818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt; Hopelessness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Desesperanza. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bad translation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mala traducción. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess the less in hopelessness does not mean the opposite, but simply lacking. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me imagino que el sufijo ‘less’ en la palabra inglesa no significa lo opuesto, sino simplemente, carente de. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that’s it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pues, así estamos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopeless and courage-less. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sin esperanza y sin valentía. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For what? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para qué? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For everything. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para todo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything, Like what? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todo, como qué?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let’s see: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Veamos:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Loving eternally and unconditional the one that deserves to be loved so / amar eterna e incondicionalmente a aquél que se lo merece. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Buying a house, creating my own space / comprar una casa, crear mi propio espacio. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Learning how to play the piano and sing / aprender a tocar el piano y cantar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Sending my Ph.D. dissertation to bloody hell / mandar mi tesis a tomar por el culo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Estar sola / to be alone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Taking my fair and necessary holidays / tomarme las vacaciones justas y necesarias. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Declare myself officially hopeless, courage-less, depressed / declararme oficialmente sin esperanza, sin valentía, deprimida. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It must be age. &lt;br /&gt;Será la edad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo from / foto de : http://spicytornado.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/the-plight-of-the-hangman1.jpg &lt;br /&gt;(significado de la foto/meaning of the photograph: se me ha ahorcado más de 450 millones de veces... y aún así no me muero!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-2907433385523524517?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/2907433385523524517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=2907433385523524517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/2907433385523524517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/2907433385523524517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/07/number-12-numero-12.html' title='Number 12 - Número 12'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_Xpv3IwVL-U/TjRErosjrmI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/YF2clJyh3YY/s72-c/the-plight-of-the-hangman1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-5128729488261849372</id><published>2011-07-27T10:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-27T10:22:06.419-07:00</updated><title type='text'>can I be paid more and work less, please? ... spade on my shoulder and Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho - It's home from work we go!!!! /// puedo currar menos y gan</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/gl9Urxw0vdA" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-5128729488261849372?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/5128729488261849372/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=5128729488261849372' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5128729488261849372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5128729488261849372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/07/can-i-be-paid-more-and-work-less-please.html' title='can I be paid more and work less, please? ... spade on my shoulder and Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho - It&apos;s home from work we go!!!! /// puedo currar menos y gan'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/gl9Urxw0vdA/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-4656365095229366436</id><published>2011-07-23T08:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-23T08:12:11.556-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trailer in both languages</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="560" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/OUcTFJ8zhqo" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-4656365095229366436?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/4656365095229366436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=4656365095229366436' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/4656365095229366436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/4656365095229366436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/07/trailer-in-both-languages.html' title='Trailer in both languages'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/OUcTFJ8zhqo/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-9074295220548019178</id><published>2011-07-23T08:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-23T08:08:51.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This mode is much better // De este modo, mejor</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe width="560" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/rUGA-rEN9vE" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-9074295220548019178?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/9074295220548019178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=9074295220548019178' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/9074295220548019178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/9074295220548019178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/07/this-mode-is-much-better-de-este-modo.html' title='This mode is much better // De este modo, mejor'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/rUGA-rEN9vE/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-7066057963988781662</id><published>2011-07-13T15:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-13T15:42:15.688-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quien da mas? / Who's got a bigger bid?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vPuFxqaV260/Th4fNvIq2OI/AAAAAAAAAQw/ZHJALZTP0KU/s1600/11062011071.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vPuFxqaV260/Th4fNvIq2OI/AAAAAAAAAQw/ZHJALZTP0KU/s320/11062011071.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628970905111288034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-7066057963988781662?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/7066057963988781662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=7066057963988781662' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7066057963988781662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7066057963988781662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/07/quien-da-mas-whos-got-bigger-bid.html' title='Quien da mas? / Who&apos;s got a bigger bid?'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vPuFxqaV260/Th4fNvIq2OI/AAAAAAAAAQw/ZHJALZTP0KU/s72-c/11062011071.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-4769463376988647084</id><published>2011-06-30T07:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T07:03:45.833-07:00</updated><title type='text'>That time of the year again / Esa epoca del año de nuevo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-72jQi0svimM/TgyCPJmS3WI/AAAAAAAAAQo/t2Mzt7djiaw/s1600/cerrado.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-72jQi0svimM/TgyCPJmS3WI/AAAAAAAAAQo/t2Mzt7djiaw/s320/cerrado.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624013231465094498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mR6m407KzrQ/Ruwy3P4NDQI/AAAAAAAAAOk/zeWi1xVcBwQ/s400/cerrado.bmp&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-4769463376988647084?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/4769463376988647084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=4769463376988647084' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/4769463376988647084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/4769463376988647084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/06/that-time-of-year-again-esa-epoca-del.html' title='That time of the year again / Esa epoca del año de nuevo'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-72jQi0svimM/TgyCPJmS3WI/AAAAAAAAAQo/t2Mzt7djiaw/s72-c/cerrado.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-6161781887954231373</id><published>2011-06-24T11:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-24T11:06:09.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sad Flowers - Flores tristes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-omng6Iyzpp4/TgTRcp4AEUI/AAAAAAAAAQg/pFQm8SAWZpA/s1600/10052011063.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-omng6Iyzpp4/TgTRcp4AEUI/AAAAAAAAAQg/pFQm8SAWZpA/s320/10052011063.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621848525072503106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at the flowers - for no reason. It is simply unbelievable how happy flowers are. ~Osho --&gt; I'm pretty sure though that Osho simply ignored sad flowers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mira las flores - sin razon. Es simplemente increible lo felices que son las flores ~ Osho. Estoy segura eso si que el Osho este simplemente ignoraba a las flores tristes&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-6161781887954231373?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/6161781887954231373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=6161781887954231373' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/6161781887954231373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/6161781887954231373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/06/sad-flowers-flores-tristes.html' title='Sad Flowers - Flores tristes'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-omng6Iyzpp4/TgTRcp4AEUI/AAAAAAAAAQg/pFQm8SAWZpA/s72-c/10052011063.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-8345829373438030053</id><published>2011-06-14T09:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T09:36:12.258-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Do not confuse / No te confundas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DUN7kf0aQ4U/TfeN6NxNaRI/AAAAAAAAAQY/BGFKt6qn9Hs/s1600/valor-absoluto.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 246px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DUN7kf0aQ4U/TfeN6NxNaRI/AAAAAAAAAQY/BGFKt6qn9Hs/s320/valor-absoluto.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618115091435972882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A new darkness of the mind is&lt;br /&gt;NOT&lt;br /&gt;a new darkness of the soul&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Una nueva oscuridad de la mente NO es&lt;br /&gt;una oscuridad nueva en el alma &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The key is...&lt;br /&gt;La clave es... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;silence (with small letters)&lt;br /&gt;el silencio (con minúsculas)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;can you handle this? &lt;br /&gt;puedes con ello? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo from/ foto de: http://oscrove.files.wordpress.com/2008/03/valor-absoluto.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-8345829373438030053?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/8345829373438030053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=8345829373438030053' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/8345829373438030053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/8345829373438030053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/06/do-not-confuse-no-te-confundas.html' title='Do not confuse / No te confundas'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DUN7kf0aQ4U/TfeN6NxNaRI/AAAAAAAAAQY/BGFKt6qn9Hs/s72-c/valor-absoluto.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-7116406221949381335</id><published>2011-06-08T14:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-08T14:51:37.144-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Joder con el niño // Jaysis, what a kid!</title><content type='html'>Who am I kidding? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A quien estoy tomando el pelo? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y7D2rua88iQ/Te_nO5RjgRI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/EOYmaVY8Hdo/s1600/chyt.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 274px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y7D2rua88iQ/Te_nO5RjgRI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/EOYmaVY8Hdo/s320/chyt.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615961503432933650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No sabía que se podía vaciar el corazón como si fuera una tarrina de helado con esa forma peculiar auriculo-ventricular. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know that the heart could be emptied as if it were an icecream tab in that peculiar auricular-ventricular shape. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un complicado iglú. Eso es. Que me va a servir de apartamento de soltera con dos habitaciones, una con baño, cocina y comedor con chimenea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A complicated igloo. That’s it. That is going to work as a spinster’s apartment with two bedrooms, one with a bathroom, kitchen and living room with a fireplace. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque dejarme que yo prefiera una hoguera, una hoguera, una hoguera… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because let me prefer a bonfire, a bonfire, a bonfire (even though in the song Javier Krahe means the stake). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Un iglú inderretible. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An unmeltable igloo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inspite of this global warming. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A pesar de este calentamiento global. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me voy a subir al desván de los sueños a cantar contigo, si te dejas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m gonna go upstairs to the attic of dreams to sing along, if you let me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo de / foto from: :) http://www.fungionline.org.uk/images/6asexual/chyt.gif&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-7116406221949381335?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/7116406221949381335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=7116406221949381335' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7116406221949381335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7116406221949381335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/06/joder-con-el-nino-jaysis-what-kid.html' title='Joder con el niño // Jaysis, what a kid!'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y7D2rua88iQ/Te_nO5RjgRI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/EOYmaVY8Hdo/s72-c/chyt.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-2115944157900154367</id><published>2011-06-02T13:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-02T13:33:44.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No tocar fondo da miedo / To be out of one's depth is scary</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qiNr1nhAmKk/TefzOglx40I/AAAAAAAAAP8/-iNRIqAH7G0/s1600/4305254-agua-de-fondo-en-la-piscina-tropical-del-hotel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qiNr1nhAmKk/TefzOglx40I/AAAAAAAAAP8/-iNRIqAH7G0/s320/4305254-agua-de-fondo-en-la-piscina-tropical-del-hotel.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613722891132724034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(photo from/foto de: http://us.123rf.com/400wm/400/400/haveseen/haveseen0902/haveseen090200140/4305254-agua-de-fondo-en-la-piscina-tropical-del-hotel.jpg)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y hacía tanto que no lo hacía.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it was such a long time I didn't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-g31P0OF_BfI/Tefzj25JI7I/AAAAAAAAAQE/9gstXqCt8nw/s1600/tocar%2Bfondo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-g31P0OF_BfI/Tefzj25JI7I/AAAAAAAAAQE/9gstXqCt8nw/s320/tocar%2Bfondo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613723257896772530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo from / Foto de: http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_4xQrlhOqXu4/TBbxS1wxcQI/AAAAAAAAABo/WVnCSoRAbkA/s320/tocar+fondo.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-2115944157900154367?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/2115944157900154367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=2115944157900154367' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/2115944157900154367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/2115944157900154367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/06/no-tocar-fondo-da-miedo-to-be-out-of.html' title='No tocar fondo da miedo / To be out of one&apos;s depth is scary'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qiNr1nhAmKk/TefzOglx40I/AAAAAAAAAP8/-iNRIqAH7G0/s72-c/4305254-agua-de-fondo-en-la-piscina-tropical-del-hotel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-5901046888257108267</id><published>2011-05-25T03:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-25T04:08:06.201-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Postelectoral depression // Depresión post- electoral</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MM0sDRLiMn0/TdzfxOU1mgI/AAAAAAAAAP0/bk7IHPQprUk/s1600/asamblea.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 194px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MM0sDRLiMn0/TdzfxOU1mgI/AAAAAAAAAP0/bk7IHPQprUk/s320/asamblea.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610605272548874754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La disidencia me ha caracterizado toda la vida. miro esta foto y pienso: manos arriba. &lt;br /&gt;Desobedience has been my second name throughout my life. I see this photograph and I think: This is a hold up!&lt;br /&gt;Asi que aqui esta lo que siento:&lt;br /&gt;So here is what I feel: &lt;br /&gt;El lunes tenia ganas de escribir algo que diera animo a toda la gente que salio. No me parece ni mal ni bien que el PP haya tenido mayoria absoluta. Me lo esperaba. Los perdedores iban a ser el PSOE. Porque la derecha se suele mover como un bloque. No reconocen sus diferencias, porque es mejor para ellos tener un plan claro, una norma que sirva para todos. Por eso me hace tanta gracia ahora este video del Intermedio. &lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sLK-Up9zgJk&amp;feature=related &lt;br /&gt;Porque no me parece indicativo de nada - que ya no supieramos. No nos quejabamos de la izquierda o de la derecha. Yo, por lo menos, me quejaba de que las estructuras de 'representacion' que tenemos tienen sus faltas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday I felt like writing something that cheered everybody up. I don't think it's bad or good that PP has earned an absolute majority. I expected it. The losers were gonna be PSOE. Because the right normally works as a block. They don't acknowledge their differencias, because it's better for them to have a clear plan, a norm that works for everyone. That's why I find this video so funny now: &lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sLK-Up9zgJk&amp;feature=related&lt;br /&gt;But it doesn't seem to be significant of anything - we didn't know before. We were not complaining about right or left. Or I wasn't. I was complaining about the fact that the structures of 'representation' that we have are faulty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si no tenemos democracia, no la llamemos asi. &lt;br /&gt;If we do not have a democracy, let's not call it so. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por otro lado, esta lo que se nos viene encima. Lo que ya estaba ocurriendo. No es nuevo, chicos, no estamos inventando nada nuevo, lo que estamos es usando las viejas herramientas para nuevos objetivos y eso es lo que me gusta. Por eso, estoy dispuesta a quemar pendones y banderas, ideologias y escuchar a mi vecino, tenga el color que tenga su alma, que es lo unico que me importa. Y lo mejor es que no tengo prisa. Y lo segundo mejor, es que me siento apoyada y me siento apoyando. Y nadie se quedara sin comer mientras sepamos repartir los panes y los peces que nos quieran dejar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, you can see what's coming. What was happening. It's nothing new, guys, we are not inventing anything new, what we are using is the old tools for new aims and that's the spirit i like. THat's why, i'm willing to burn my coat of arms and my flags, my ideologies and listen to my neighbour, whatever his soul colour is, becuase it's the only thing that matters. And the best thing is that I'm in no rush, and the second best thing, is that i feel supported and supporting. and no one will starve as long as we know how to distribute our fish and bread, the fish and bread they want to let us have. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No es que seamos muy buenos en eso. no conviene olvidarse de mirar al sur. Pero aprendamos de una vez carajo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We aren't very good at that, really. It is fitting to remember to look down south once ina while. But let's learn for once and for all, darn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y por ultimo, que no tengo respuestas. Preguntas las que querais. Y empecemos la conversacion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And last but not least, i have no answers. Questions as many as you want. And let's start the conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo from/ foto de: http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JvIg9HMhSQI/TZYoc_nBytI/AAAAAAAAAYI/cZEWvHg9vAw/s1600/asamblea.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-5901046888257108267?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/5901046888257108267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=5901046888257108267' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5901046888257108267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5901046888257108267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/05/postelectoral-depression-depresion-post.html' title='Postelectoral depression // Depresión post- electoral'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MM0sDRLiMn0/TdzfxOU1mgI/AAAAAAAAAP0/bk7IHPQprUk/s72-c/asamblea.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-2405098385181105259</id><published>2011-05-20T15:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-20T15:44:02.886-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Crying with Joy / Llorando de Alegria</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8jBfXdOB1oM/Tdbugm4q5sI/AAAAAAAAAPs/-gtJUL_CLOI/s1600/Jlu-S%25C3%25A1nchez-DR-Madrid-15M-600x396.png"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8jBfXdOB1oM/Tdbugm4q5sI/AAAAAAAAAPs/-gtJUL_CLOI/s320/Jlu-S%25C3%25A1nchez-DR-Madrid-15M-600x396.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608932629897995970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me cuesta mucho escribir hoy, especialmente despues del minuto de silencio mas emocionante de toda mi vida. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is very difficult for me to write today, especially after the most overwhelming minute of silence in my entire life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estoy lejos pero hoy no podría estar más cerca. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm far away but today I couldn't be any closer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estoy mirando la Puerta del Sol desde mi ordenador porque es la única manera de rodearme de una gente a la que le debo mucho. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm watching Puerta del Sol from my computer because it's the only way of surrounding me by people I owe lots to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OYitrpJVk0c/TdbucU-onQI/AAAAAAAAAPk/_4puQVNXBFk/s1600/229139_10150252447814595_691399594_8629030_7989422_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 217px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OYitrpJVk0c/TdbucU-onQI/AAAAAAAAAPk/_4puQVNXBFk/s320/229139_10150252447814595_691399594_8629030_7989422_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608932556371696898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt; Por lo pronto, lo voy a resumir en dos palabras: Confianza y Esperanza. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least, I will sum it up in two words: Trust and Hope. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoy siento que las fosas comunes que se abrieron debieron sacar más que hueso y ceniza, igual se les escapó un poco de la fuerza que tuvieron hace 75 años, los que cumplió mi padre ayer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I feel that the common graves that were opened, must have released more than bones and ashes, maybe something of their strength escaped, strength that has bottled up for 75 years, the same age that my father became yesterday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ya imagino las narices arrugadas de algunos al mencionar la guerra. Pero es inevitable, esta fuerza de estar juntos desde sitios tan diferentes, de ideas tan diferentes tiene precedentes, en mi pais al menos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I imagine the wrinkled noses of some when I mention the war. But it's inevitable, this strength of being together from so different places, from so different ideas has a precedent, in my country at least. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahora, si la menciono, es para que aprendamos de los errores - aunque no importa si no aprendemos porque ahora tengo la confianza de que con errores o sin ellos, hay esperanza - y nos demos cuenta de que llegaremos a formas más justas de repartir nuestra riqueza, de que aprenderemos a vivir de una manera más sostenible y razonable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, if I mention it, it is so that we learn from our mistakes - although it does not matter if we do not, because now I trust that with mistakes or without them, there is hope - and so that we realize that we will arrive at fairer forms of distributing our wealth, we will learn to live in a more sustainable and reasonable  way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y la última palabra, como siempre,  la tiene la paciencia. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the last word, as always, rests with patience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-2405098385181105259?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/2405098385181105259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=2405098385181105259' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/2405098385181105259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/2405098385181105259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/05/crying-with-joy-llorando-de-alegria.html' title='Crying with Joy / Llorando de Alegria'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8jBfXdOB1oM/Tdbugm4q5sI/AAAAAAAAAPs/-gtJUL_CLOI/s72-c/Jlu-S%25C3%25A1nchez-DR-Madrid-15M-600x396.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-533116112032371277</id><published>2011-05-18T01:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-18T01:27:36.171-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Papel de foto / Kodak Paper</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JcTGHNTuCHg/TdOCNUReV2I/AAAAAAAAAPc/6mT_BT0WLd4/s1600/kodakpaper2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 290px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JcTGHNTuCHg/TdOCNUReV2I/AAAAAAAAAPc/6mT_BT0WLd4/s320/kodakpaper2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607969126298310498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Siempre que tiro cosas&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I throw out things&lt;br /&gt;y cada vez tiro mas&lt;br /&gt;and I throw more and more things out&lt;br /&gt;bueno, no&lt;br /&gt;okay, not really&lt;br /&gt;las reciclo&lt;br /&gt;I recycle them&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me siento como&lt;br /&gt;I feel as if&lt;br /&gt;si me hubiera quitado una postilla&lt;br /&gt;I had picked a scab off &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no me llevo más fotos de las que quepan en mis dos pasaportes - hasta ahora -&lt;br /&gt;I won't take any more photographs with me than those that fit in my two passports - till now - &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me voy a soltar de las caras conocidas&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to let go off the wellknown faces&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yo soy&lt;br /&gt;I am &lt;br /&gt;sin necesidad de sellos y pegatinas&lt;br /&gt;no need for stickers and stamps. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo from/ foto de: http://theswca.com/images-fakes/kodakpaper2.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-533116112032371277?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/533116112032371277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=533116112032371277' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/533116112032371277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/533116112032371277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/05/papel-de-foto-kodak-paper.html' title='Papel de foto / Kodak Paper'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JcTGHNTuCHg/TdOCNUReV2I/AAAAAAAAAPc/6mT_BT0WLd4/s72-c/kodakpaper2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-4498073373920308649</id><published>2011-05-03T11:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-03T11:29:39.701-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It happens // Pasa</title><content type='html'>Foto de/// Photo from: http://www.stageoflife.com/Portals/0/Skins/StageOfLife_MKII/StageLogos/Logo_OnMyOwn.png&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It happens around the mid-thirties &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pasa en la década de los treinta y pico&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-when we have tackled the obstacles on the way here with more or less success, instead of taking those readily available fragrant shortcuts-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- cuando nos hemos enfrentado a los obstáculos por el camino hacia aquí con más o menos éxito, en vez de coger esos atajos tan disponibles y aromáticos-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It happens that we don't need to be more or less beautiful than we already are, more or less brave, more or less caring and useful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pasa que ya no necesitamos ser más o menos guapas de lo que ya somos, más o menos valientes, más o menos cariñosas o útiles. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather has a strange way in the morning to whisper it all to us, if we just listened... inside as much as we listened outside. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El tiempo tiene una forma rara por la mañana de susurrárnoslo, si solamente escucháramos... por dentro tanto como escuchamos por fuera. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big morning hugs to my 'guapas por dentro' (Sara and Clare)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandes abrazos matutinos a mis 'beautiful inside' (sara y clare). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sHGOyOnS1UI/TcBIW2tonuI/AAAAAAAAAPU/MH5_XbZHzJw/s1600/Logo_OnMyOwn.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 279px; height: 137px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sHGOyOnS1UI/TcBIW2tonuI/AAAAAAAAAPU/MH5_XbZHzJw/s320/Logo_OnMyOwn.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602557493930139362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-4498073373920308649?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/4498073373920308649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=4498073373920308649' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/4498073373920308649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/4498073373920308649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/05/it-happens-pasa.html' title='It happens // Pasa'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sHGOyOnS1UI/TcBIW2tonuI/AAAAAAAAAPU/MH5_XbZHzJw/s72-c/Logo_OnMyOwn.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-4550240942984997704</id><published>2011-05-01T10:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-01T10:54:19.085-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gust and disgust // Ráfagas y disgustos</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-auS4pp25V9g/Tb2eQsC2SLI/AAAAAAAAAPM/7XB-gLTfjCI/s1600/the_five_senses.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 235px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-auS4pp25V9g/Tb2eQsC2SLI/AAAAAAAAAPM/7XB-gLTfjCI/s320/the_five_senses.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601807521056966834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me gusta mirar el fuego en la chimenea y los ojos de ciertas personas. Me gusta mirar a Johny Depp. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like looking at the fire in the fireplace and the eyes of certain people. I like looking at Johny Depp. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me disgusta ver la piel quemada. Me disgusta mirar una calle sin árboles. Me cuesta mirar las caras de los muertos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dislike seeing burnt skin. I dislike tree-less streets. I find it difficult to look in the face of dead people. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me gusta escuchar el hung drum, el arpa, y la voz de Lhasa. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like listening to the hung drum, the harp, Lhasa's voice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No soporto el sonido de la tiza arañando la pizarra y el ruido de la lavadora. Me molesta la voz de ciertas personas, mucho. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't bear the sound of chalk scratching on blackboard and the noise of the washing machine. The voice of certain people bothers me, a lot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mhmmm... moroccan rose. I can't get tired of it. Petrol. Paint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mhmmm qué rico... rosa marroquí. No me canso de olerla. Gasolina, pintura&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, I dislike the smell of sewers and fried paprika. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por otro lado, me disgusta el olor del alcantarillado y el pimentón frito. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love caressing my cat. It was a pleasure I hadn't felt before. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me encanta acariciar a mi gato. Era un placer que desconocía. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me encanta el sabor del pomelo y del pan. Sencillo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the taste of grapefruit and of bread. SImple. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No soporto el sabor del empanado ni  de la mahonesa de rábano picante.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't stand the taste of batter or horseradish mayo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PHoto from: foto de: --&gt; http://www.davidkrutpublishing.com/dkp/wp-content/uploads/bookcovers_2007/the_five_senses.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-4550240942984997704?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/4550240942984997704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=4550240942984997704' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/4550240942984997704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/4550240942984997704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/05/gust-and-disgust-rafagas-y-disgustos.html' title='Gust and disgust // Ráfagas y disgustos'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-auS4pp25V9g/Tb2eQsC2SLI/AAAAAAAAAPM/7XB-gLTfjCI/s72-c/the_five_senses.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-1224615691717824061</id><published>2011-04-30T16:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-30T16:19:45.669-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Me duele la barriga solo oirle // My stomach aches just hearing him</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.ted.com/talks/dan_phillips_creative_houses_from_reclaimed_stuff.html"&gt;Dan Phillips: Creative houses from reclaimed stuff | Video on TED.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-1224615691717824061?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/1224615691717824061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=1224615691717824061' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/1224615691717824061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/1224615691717824061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/04/me-duele-la-barriga-solo-oirle-my.html' title='Me duele la barriga solo oirle // My stomach aches just hearing him'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-3099583676874589303</id><published>2011-04-22T03:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-22T03:01:02.872-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love / Amor</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w-gLQ5C1qQo/TbFR2EfZlmI/AAAAAAAAAPE/dpHS6k0U9yA/s1600/pulses.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 255px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w-gLQ5C1qQo/TbFR2EfZlmI/AAAAAAAAAPE/dpHS6k0U9yA/s320/pulses.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598345801158465122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is who I am. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amor es lo que soy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am worthy and capable of love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merezco y soy capaz de amar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Affirmations have never agreed fully with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Las afirmaciones nunca me han sentado bien del todo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is something inside of me that resists any form of knowledge or speech that comes from the outside in the form of dogma. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hay algo dentro de mí que se resiste a aceptar cualquier forma de conocimiento o discurso que venga de fuera a la maneraa de dogma. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should clarify that I have nothing against them and that I recognize their power. I guess it is simply that I work from the inside: vulcano like. I like truths that climb up from my tailbone to the crown and beyond, in the form of lava first, clean water once their past the filters and the dams of my heart and geyser vapour through the top of my head; which will most certainly mix up with the clouds and hopefully nourish the soil to light on. It is a complicated - and yet so simple – cycle that requires time and effort. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Debo aclarar que no tengo nada contra ellas y que reconozco su poder. Supongo que simplemente es que yo trabajo desde dentro mejor: como un volcán. Me gustan las verdades que suben desde el final de la columna hasta la coronilla y más allá, en forma de lava primero, agua limpia una vez que han pasado por los filtros y diques del corazon, y como vapor de geiser a través de la cabeza; que seguramente se mezclarán después con las nubes y con suerte nutrirán el suelo sobre el que emerger. Es un ciclo complicado – y a la vez tan simple – que requiere tiempo y esfuezo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asi que, amor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My foundations have been shaken and the settlement I had created in the utopian land of love imagined and desired has vanished. Instead of quickly fixing it up and looking for answers, I am happily sitting down in the middle of the imaginary dust it left behind when it crumbled and I’m watching the earth open up. I have picked up a shovel and helped to air the whole thing. Or that’s what I’m doing here now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mis cimientos han sufrido un terremoto y el poblado que había creado en la tierra utópica del amor imaginado y deseado se ha esfumado. En vez de rapidamente arreglarlo y buscar respuestas, estoy feliz aquí sentada en el medio de un polvo imaginario que ha dejado atrás cuando se derrumbó y estoy mirando la tierra abrirse. He cogido una pala y he ayudado a airearlo todo. O eso es lo que estoy haciendo aquí ahora. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I tell the tales of my love life as a series of fortunate events, I irremediably get told to publish them in the form of a soap. If I had a business mind, I would most certainly do because people seemed to get engaged with the characters. The chain of events has been definitely prominent this year in which I have seen myself counting each link as if I was praying the rosary: César, Adam, Jurek, Eleazar, Eamonn, Michel and Shane. I realized that there were important things in the hole inside the link: small names that didn’t settle or that filtered through to the realm of friendship by osmosis. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuando cuento las fábulas de mi vida romántica como una serie de afortunadas dichas, irremediablemente me dicen que las publique en forma de telenovela. Si tuviera una mente para los negocios, lo haría porque la gente parece engancharse a los personajes. La cadena de incidentes ha estado muy presente este año en el que me he visto contando cada eslabón como si estuviera rezando el rosario: César, Adam, Jurek, Eleazar, Eamonn, Michel y Shane. Me he dado cuenta de que había cosas importantes en el hueco del eslabón: nombrecitos que no acamparon o que se filtraron al territorio de la amistad por osmosis. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[I can’t help but remember the poem by Mario Benedetti ‘Lovers go home’ here. ‘Now that I started the day coming back to your eyes and you found me well and I found you prettier. Now that finally I found it is quite clear where you are and where I am, I know that for the first time I’ll be strong enough to build with you such a beautiful friendship that from the neighbouring territory of love, that desperate land, they will start looking at us green with envy and they’ll end up organizing trips to come to ask us how we did it’]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No puedo evitar recordar el poema de Mario Benedetti ‘Lovers go home’ (que los&lt;br /&gt;amantes se vayan a casa) aquí:  Ahora que empecé el día volviendo a tu mirada, y me encontraste bien y te encontré más linda. Ahora que por fin está bastante claro dónde estás y dónde estoy. Sé por primera vez que tendré fuerzas para construir contigo una amistad tan piola, que del vecino territorio del amor, ese desesperado, empezarán a mirarnos con envidia, y acabarán organizando excursions para venir a preguntarnos cómo hicimos’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those names in the middle, that I rarely mention, are the water around these 7 landmark stones to cross the river. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Esos nombres en el medio, que raramente menciono, son el agua alrededor de esas 7 piedras tocón para cruzar el río. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, the last thing I said to the air - because I didn’t dare to say on the phone was: ‘El que quiera peces que se moje el culo’. Which is a Spanish saying that means ‘If you want fish, you gotta get your ass wet’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eso sí, lo último que le dije al aire – porque no me atreví a decirlo por teléfono, fue: ‘El que quiera peces que se moje el culo’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it’s about time I do. But with a difference, I don’t want fish any more. The documentary called ‘Home’ is to be blamed for it. I just want water, because I’m NOT going to build any new settlement in this plot I’m sitting on right now. Instead I’m going to water it well and plant a few seeds and sticks: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Así que ya va siendo hora de que me lo moje. Pero con una diferencia, ahora ya no quiero peces. El documental ‘Home’ tiene la culpa. Quiero agua sólo, porque NO voy a construir ningún poblado nuevo en este terreno en el que estoy sentada ahora. En vez voy a regarlo bien y plantar algunas semillas y palos: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- fruit trees: mhmmm… my housemate says that blueberries grow well here, but I’ve never seen any, on the other hand, I like her logic when I said I could plant a blackberry and her asnwer was: in Ireland, we go to the countryside for berries we don’t plant them ☺; apple trees, cherry trees – for aesthetic value -, pear trees, chestnut trees, oaks… I have to bear in mind where I am because my imagination wants to add a couple of pines from home and then go around picking up pines and pinenuts. My nephew’s schoolyard is full of them. How lucky. I think of them and I can smell resin off my fingers. Almond trees, from the ‘Pickthemandgo Uncle’ farm that my dad invented and that it took me a good few years to figure out that he was just messing. Lemon trees. Grapefruit. Plums. Banana. Coconut. Avocado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frutales: mmmm… mi compa de casa dice que las grosellas azules crecen bien aquí, pero nunca las he visto, por otro lado, me gusta su lógica cuando le dije que podía plantar una morera y me respondió: en Irlanda, salimos al campo para coger moras, no las plantamos ☺; manzanos, cerezos – por valor estético -, perales, castaños, robles… tengo que darme cuenta de donde estoy porque mi imaginación quiere añadir un par de pinos de casa y luego pasearse cogiendo piñas y piñones. El patio del colegio de mi sobrino está llenito. Qué suerte. Pienso en ellos y puedo oler la resina en los dedos. Almendros, de la finca del tío Cogivete que mi padre se inventó y que me llevó un buen tiempo averiguar que me estaba tomando el pelo. Limoneros. Pomeleros? (se llaman así?). Bananeras. Palmeras de cocos. Aguacate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The other things I usually feed on: tomatoes, courgettes, peppers, pumpkin, spinach, cucumber, lettuce, rocket, brocolli, brussel sprouts, asparagus, carrot, okra, cauliflower, eggplant, strawberries,  chillies, onions, garlic, potatoes, sweet potatoes, spring onions and then I feed on things that would not grow well here: chickpeas, lentils, couscous, rice, wheat, spelt, barley, rye, mung beans. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Las otras cosas de las que me alimento: tomates, calabacines, pimientos, calabaza, espinaca, pepino, lechuga, rucola, brocoli, coles de bruselas, esparragos, zanahorias, okras, coliflor, berenjena, fresas, chiles, cebollas, ajos, patatas, boniatos, cebollinos y luego me alimento de cosas que no crecerían bien aquí: garbanzos, lentejas, cuscus, arroz, trigo, espelta, cebada, centeno, alubias mung. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Flowers:  roses, violets, irises, pansies and poppies… and my knowledge is very limited in this realm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flores: rosas, violetas, iris, pensamientos y amapolas… y mi conocimiento es tan limitado en este territorio. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead of building my imaginary land of love, I’m going to plant and grow. I am commiting myself to a looser plan. A year and almost a half ago, I wrote an email to one of the seven aforementioned with iron will: I’m looking for a partner, and an open plan: the terms of the partnership will have to be agreed on by both parties. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En vez de construir mi territorio imaginario del amor, voy a plantar y a cultivar. Estoy comprometiendome a un plan más suelto. Hace un año y casi medio, escribí una email a uno de los siete arriba mencionados con voluntad ferrea: estoy buscando una pareja, y un plan abierto: los términos de esa relación tendrán que ser acordados por ambas partes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well now I’m not because I don’t know if I want a partner any more. Not just anyone. I know now it’s the relationship that matters. It’s the produce from the orchard that I will nourish from and not what it is like or where, what matters now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bien pues ahora no porque no sé si quiero una pareja ya. No cualquiera. Sé ahora que es la relación lo que importa. Es el producto del huerto del que me alimentaré y no cómo es o dónde está, lo que importa ahora. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I’m down on my knees with my gloved hands sinking into the moist soil, tucking seeds into the earth and giving back, I feel as egoless as when I’m on the bike, cycle-whistling about, on my own; but also when I’m walk-talking with him, invisible and endless . The end does not justify the means. From now on, the end-losing business. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cuando estoy en el suelo de rodillas con mis manos enguantadas hundiéndose en el suelo mojado, arropando las semillas en la tierra y devolviéndolas, me siento sin ego igual que cuando estoy en la bici, bicicletesilbando sola; pero también cuando estoy ‘habla-andando’ contigo, invisible y sin fin. El fin no justifica los medios. De ahora en adelante, el negocio de la pérdida de fines. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess Sara is right. I’m sown. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Así que supongo que Sara tiene razón. Estoy sembrada. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo from// foto de: http://www.asialaden.org/PULSES.htm&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-3099583676874589303?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/3099583676874589303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=3099583676874589303' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/3099583676874589303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/3099583676874589303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/04/love-amor.html' title='Love / Amor'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w-gLQ5C1qQo/TbFR2EfZlmI/AAAAAAAAAPE/dpHS6k0U9yA/s72-c/pulses.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-2397892445898820405</id><published>2011-04-21T05:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-21T05:54:12.756-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Home / Hogar</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Wzm4ubo1tv4/TbAlIokthxI/AAAAAAAAAO8/6q-OVq9ZkSM/s1600/communal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Wzm4ubo1tv4/TbAlIokthxI/AAAAAAAAAO8/6q-OVq9ZkSM/s320/communal.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598015167082104594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or a house. o una casa.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always thought I wanted a house of my own: a garden at the front and at the back, and lots of fruit trees. I want to have an orchard where I can grow my own vegetables and maybe a few hens for my eggs and when I grow up, maybe I will also get a goat or two to have milk and cheese. How do you make all that? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Siempre he pensado que quería una casa propia: un jardín por delante y por detrás y muchos árboles frutales. Quiero tener un huerto donde plantar mis verduras y a lo mejor alguna gallina para los huevos y cuando crezca, quizás una cabra o dos para la leche y el queso. Cómo se hace todo eso? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My house is in the city, near where I work or near a river or the ocean, not far. I don’t want to depend on a car, so if it’s outside of the city or a bit outside of the city it has to be a place where you can cycle or walk. Or both. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mi casa está en la ciudad, cerca de donde trabajo o cerca del mar o de un río, no lejos. No quiero depender de un coche, asi que si estuviera fuera de la ciudad o un poco fuera de la ciudad, tiene que ser un lugar al que se puede ir en bici o andando. O los dos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see a lot of wood and good walls and maybe the attic is converted or it can be converted. I would love to build it myself so if I’m allowed to be dreaming, I’d love to build a house or have people help me build it near here and near the river. I want a small house, 2 bedrooms would suffice, three would be plenty, so it could be a two bedroom house with an attic to be used as a therapy room, artist room or a room for guests and lots of light. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Veo mucha madera y buenas paredes y quizá un desván convertido o que se pueda convertir. Me gustaría construirla a mí misma asi que si se me permite soñar, me gustaría construir una casa o tener a gente que me ayudara a construirla cerca de aquí y de un río. Quiero una casa pequeña, dos habitaciones bastarían, con tres habría de sobra, así que sería una casa de dos cuartos con desván para ser usado como habitación para terapias alternativas, o como la habitación de un artista, o como una habitación para huespedes y mucha luz. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see an open fire and also probably a stove. I love those stoves, they just make the whole thing feel cozy. I like tiles in the kitchen and the hall and wood everywhere else. I’m not a carpet person but I wouldn’t mind having a few rugs or blankets on the ground and lots of beanbags but all that is cosmetic. I’m talking about the main house. I remember when I was starting my 20s and I had an arquitect as a boyfriend, I used to design huge houses with my imagination and my free time to imagine that life was better down the road. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Veo una chimenea y también una cocina de leña. Me encantan esas cocinas, que hacen todo muchísimo más hogareño. Me gusta la plaqueta en la cocina y en el pasillo y madera para el resto. No soy una persona de moquetas pero no me importaría tener alfombras o mantas por el suelo y muchos puffs pero todo eso es cosmético. Estaba hablando de la casa aquí. Recuerdo cuando estaba saliendo de la adolescencia y tenía un arquitecto de novio, solía diseñar yo casas enormes con mi imaginación y todo el tiempo libre que tenía para imaginar que la vida iba a ser mejor de ahí en adelante. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this is a house where I do not see myself living on my own. I see my cat and many more probably, but I also see people… not just a partner and kids… or not only… or not even. I see people that I love and that I can share my live with. Cooperative living I guess. People that can benefit from each other skills and that not only share the house but that they share the ownership of everything around. Am I that far out of touch with reality?  Google check.  I want to learn how to build from someone, how to garden – or farm! - from someone, how to make furniture and clothes.  I will get books about it in the meantime but it is not just the same. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sé que es una casa donde no me veo viviendo sola. Veo a mi gato y probablemente a otros más, pero también veo a gente... no simplemente una pareja e hijos... o no sólo...o ni siquiera. Veo a gente a la que quiero y con quien puedo compartir mi vida. Vida cooperativa, supongo. Gente que puede beneficiarse de las capacidades de los otros y que no sólo comparten la casa sino que comparte la propiedad de todo alrededor. Estoy tan lejos de la realidad? Miremos en google. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to learn how to build from someone, how to garden – or farm! - from someone, how to make furniture and clothes.  I will get books about it in the meantime but it is not just the same. I always wanted to learn how to build from dad but now he’s 76 and we don’t have a place where he can direct me. I will try to exorcise this before I regret not having been able to learn from him. It was completely out of my hands because the only time he built something outside of his job was my uncle’s house in mom’s village and I was too small and never invited or allowed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quiero aprender a construir de alguien, a plantar - o cosechar! - de alguien, a hacer muebles y ropa. Sacaré libros sobre ello mientras pero no es lo mismo. Siempre quise aprender a construir de mi padre, pero ahora tiene 76 años y no tenemos un lugar donde pueda enseñarme. Intentaré exorcizar esto antes de arrepentirme de haber sido capaz de aprender de él. Estaba completamente fuera de mi alcance porque la única vez que construyó algo fuera de su trabajo era la casa de mis tíos en el pueblo de mi madre y yo era demasiado pequeña y nunca me invitaron o dejaron participar. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I guess my dream – and I am confident that I am a fast learner – that I can find people on which to rely to carry out dreams. They don’t necessarily need to be these ones. I have very fluid dreams that mix well with the dreams of others. I guess I don’t want to be an island any more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Supongo que mi sueño - y tengo confianza en ser una rapida aprendiz - que puedo encontrar gente en la que confiar para llevar a cabo mis sueños. No necesitan ser estos. Tengo sueños muy fluidos que se mezclan bien con los sueños de otros. Supongo que no quiero ser una isla más. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funny thing about this dream of mine is that it doesn’t necessarily need to be here. The power of place is not as strong as in other dreams. I would love to embark on such a project here or elsewhere. Marcelina and Jay make me so jealous. They have the knowledge, the tools and the common vision to make a dream like this come true. But then again, I’m so proud to be friends with people like them. Even when they are 3000 miles away.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lo gracioso de este sueño mío es que no necesita estar aquí. El poder del lugar no tiene tanta fuerza como en otros sueños. Me encantaría embarcarme en un proyecto aquí o en otro lugar. Marcelina y jay me dan tanta envidia. Tienen el conocimiento, las herramientas y la visión común para hacer un sueño así realidad. Pero también, estoy tan orgullosa de tener a gente como ellos de amigos. Incluso aunque esten a tres mil millas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What makes the dream more powerful though is that I don’t feel it’s a pressing need. I’m slowly walking towards or away from that dream, but I’m still walking. It is something I won’t be able to see for a while. I love thick woods and all these amazing trees get all my attention on my way home. Time is the best fortuneteller. Isn’t it, always? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lo que hace este sueño más fuerte es que no lo siento como una necesidad. Voy andando lentamente hacia o en la dirección opuesta a este sueño, pero todavía estoy andando. Es algo que no voy a poder ver por un tiempo aún. Me encantan los bosques espesos y todos estos árboles maravillosos me llaman la atención por el camino a casa. El tiempo es la mejor pitonisa. Siempre, no? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Photo de/ photo from: http://naturalbuild.files.wordpress.com/2010/06/communal.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-2397892445898820405?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/2397892445898820405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=2397892445898820405' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/2397892445898820405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/2397892445898820405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/04/home-hogar.html' title='Home / Hogar'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Wzm4ubo1tv4/TbAlIokthxI/AAAAAAAAAO8/6q-OVq9ZkSM/s72-c/communal.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-2920233642231143075</id><published>2011-04-18T12:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T13:20:41.527-07:00</updated><title type='text'>El sol y la luna roja / The red sun and moon</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BcZSBnwLF5w/TaybXJ5kcnI/AAAAAAAAAO0/6D7vbCGbB_Q/s1600/broken-piano-keys.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 210px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BcZSBnwLF5w/TaybXJ5kcnI/AAAAAAAAAO0/6D7vbCGbB_Q/s320/broken-piano-keys.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597019259011363442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estoy escuchando irlandés entre la luna roja de ayer y el sol rojo de hoy que se acaba de sonrojar y escurrir por debajo de los tejados por mucho que Abú, mi gato, quiera engancharlo con las uñas para que no se caiga. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm listening to Gaeilge between the red moon yesterday and the red sun today that has just blushed and drained past behind the roofs, no matter how much Abú, my cat, wants to fix it in place with his nails so it doesn't set. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En las palabras se nota que hoy había serenidad para dar y tomar que va a acabar con la serenidad de un baño de lujo. En la abundancia del día: epifanías, preguntas huérfanas para las que habíamos tenido respuesta hacía tanto tiempo, alguna sonrisa mangada, generosidad por mi parte, amabilidad por la de los demás, malas noticias sobre el mar sereno de la calma... Un día preñado, sin duda, entre los pendientes de obsidiana que velaban mi cara&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In these words it is noticeable that there was plenty of serenity today, a day that will end with the serenity of a luxurious bath. In the abundance of today: epiphanies, orphan questions for which we had answers for so long, some stolen smile, generousity on my part, kindness on the part of others, bad news on the serene ocean of calm... a pregnant day, undoubtedly, between the obsidian earrings that veiled my face. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La danza de los siete velos... pero yo solo tengo uno o dos... con uno o dos me basta porque me encanta querer sin que me vean rojos los pies, un dos tres zapatito ingles... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The seven veils dance... but I only have one or two... with one or two is enough because I love loving without showing my red feet, red light,green light... &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;El barro deja huella a no ser que sea lluvia yo y me pegue a la ventana en mil gotitas de vista, mil por cada dibujo en el muro. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mud leaves footprints behind unless I am rain and stick to the window in a thousand drops of view, a thousand per drawing on the wall. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y al daros la vuelta, habeis sentido alguna vez una mano en el hombro? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when you turn, have you felt sometimes a hand on your shoulder? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El velo se cae y ya no soy quien: un amigo, un colega, Pin y Pon...  vamos a jugar! vamos a cantar villancicos en verano, tirar la piedra y esconder la mano. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The veil falls and i'm not anyone who...: a male friend, a mate, a sidekick... come out come out to play! let's sing christmas carols in the summer, throw a stone and hide the bone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque me encanta querer poco a poco, conocer o inventar sin acercarse para no quemarse ni asustarse con el fogonazo del flash del flechazo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I love loving little by little, knowing or inventing, without coming close so as not to burn or scare with the glare of the flash of the arrowhead flight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He aprendido a ser el hueco del ombligo, la hormiga en la pared, la mota de caspa en el hombro que no se llega a caer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've learnt to become the hole inside the belly buttom, the ant on the wall, the dandruff speck on the shoulder that just won't fall away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A raiz me he convertido en el musico que llama la atención, siempre con gafas de sol para esconder el chisporroteo en la pupila con el zoom del iris multicolor que escanea como el gato desde el árbol al halcón&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a consequence, I turned into the musician that calls everybody's attention, always wearing shades to hide the crackling in the pupil with the zoom of the multicolour iris, like a cat from a tree, studying a hawk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque me encanta querer. Es una bola de nieve entre la garganta y el pulmón. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I love loving. It's a snowball between lung and throat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Para que no se derrita, mantengo siempre una tormenta entre el pecho y el riñón, una temperatura antinatural para evitar que se derritan los polos opuestos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as not to melt it, I keep always a snowstorm going between chest and kidneys, an antinatural temperature to avoid melting the opposite poles. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque no quiero deshojar la margarita. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I don't want to pluck out the petals of a daisy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Porque me encanta querer sin transacción, sin interés ni desazón. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I love loving without transaction, without interest rate and without unease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chis pum. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The End! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo from/Foto de: http://soundlogik.com/wp-content/uploads/broken-piano-keys.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-2920233642231143075?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/2920233642231143075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=2920233642231143075' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/2920233642231143075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/2920233642231143075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/04/el-sol-y-la-luna-roja-red-sun-and-moon.html' title='El sol y la luna roja / The red sun and moon'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BcZSBnwLF5w/TaybXJ5kcnI/AAAAAAAAAO0/6D7vbCGbB_Q/s72-c/broken-piano-keys.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-4045504503850722825</id><published>2011-04-13T00:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-13T00:42:39.380-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Que de mano en mano va // From hand to hand, it goes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yMY8EuX2wbQ/TaVSEa5tGbI/AAAAAAAAAOs/b7aRKXqu09s/s1600/2011-Canada-Geese-1-25-oz-Gold-Coin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 277px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yMY8EuX2wbQ/TaVSEa5tGbI/AAAAAAAAAOs/b7aRKXqu09s/s320/2011-Canada-Geese-1-25-oz-Gold-Coin.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594968347972016562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I have to say something&lt;br /&gt;I know it has to come from me&lt;br /&gt;but somehow I guess I'm an expert in avoiding to listen to myself, letting my voice come up from the bottomless well of my fears and passions, my addictions and desires. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sé que tengo que decir algo&lt;br /&gt;sé que tiene que  venir de mí&lt;br /&gt;pero supongo de alguna manera que soy experta en evitar escucharme, en dejar que mi voz salga del pozo sin fondo de mis miedos y pasiones, mis adcciones y deseos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I say it though without wanting to&lt;br /&gt;without words&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Supongo que lo digo sin querer&lt;br /&gt;sin palabras&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I have always found some unknitting reward in threading words out&lt;br /&gt;It always feels like cottonwool in the stomach&lt;br /&gt;it's better to thread it out than to throw it up&lt;br /&gt;the words, I mean&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pero siempre he sentido una especie de recompensa devanada en hilar las palabras &lt;br /&gt;siempre se siente como si fuera lana en el estomago&lt;br /&gt;es mejor sacarlas como un hilo que vomitarlas&lt;br /&gt;las palabras, digo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;which words though? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aunque ... qué palabras? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;swear words? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;palabrotas? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;insults? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;insultos? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;compliments? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cumplidos?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ear-whispering secrets? (typical of nonsense girls, my mom would say)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;secretitos al oido? (son de niñas sin sentido, decía mi madre)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pain? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dolor? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My nephew hurts with the pain he is feeling: chron's disease&lt;br /&gt;My sister hurts with the fear she has and I have of what she can do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me duele mi sobrino con el dolor que siente: la enfermedad de chron. &lt;br /&gt;me duele mi hermana con el miedo que tiene y que tengo de lo que pueda hacer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people scare me for what I can do with what they do to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La gente me asusta por lo que puedo hacer con lo que me hacen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, thank goodness, you are here, in the middle of everything and of us, with your curved up eyes and your musiclicking fingers, laughing and not... taking the stopper out of the sink and letting it all go, drain out... without wondering if there will be any more water when we turn the tap on... who cares... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;asi que menos mal que estáis en el medio de todo y de nosotros con los ojos curvados hacia arriba y los dedos de chuparse la musica, riendo y no... quitando el tapón del lavabo y dejando que salga todo, que se escurra... sin pensar si habrá más agua cuando encendamos el grifo... a quién le importa... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The important thing sometimes is just the moment. &lt;br /&gt;Because it solidifies and welds good things around itself.&lt;br /&gt;In other words, the moment becomes a coin, a fat flat one to keep in our pockets and flip it in our fingers from time to time, just to remember. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lo importante a veces sólo es el momento&lt;br /&gt;porque solidifica y funde cosas buenas alrededor de si mismo&lt;br /&gt;En otras palabras, el momento se convierte en moneda, una plana y gorda que guardar en el bolsillo y jugar con ella por los dedos de vez en cuando. Solo para recordar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like that. &lt;br /&gt;Me gusta eso. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is whatever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eso es (S.O.S?) lo que sea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another of my mom's - whatever will ring. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Otra de mi madre - lo que sea sonará. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of that, I have no doubt: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K1I9AwzEuA4 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y de eso, no cabe duda: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K1I9AwzEuA4&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo from: http://www.coinnews.net/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/2011-Canada-Geese-1-25-oz-Gold-Coin.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-4045504503850722825?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/4045504503850722825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=4045504503850722825' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/4045504503850722825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/4045504503850722825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/04/i-know-i-have-to-say-something-i-know.html' title='Que de mano en mano va // From hand to hand, it goes'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yMY8EuX2wbQ/TaVSEa5tGbI/AAAAAAAAAOs/b7aRKXqu09s/s72-c/2011-Canada-Geese-1-25-oz-Gold-Coin.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-4285258689893129235</id><published>2011-04-02T15:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-10T16:10:53.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes we need to share more and keep less // A veces hay que compartir mas y guardar menos</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/1711302" width="400" height="302" frameborder="0"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/1711302"&gt;J.K. Rowling Speaks at Harvard Commencement&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/harvard"&gt;Harvard Magazine&lt;/a&gt; on &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com"&gt;Vimeo&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Traducción forzadita, pero traducción: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Presidente Fausto, miembros de la Corporación Harvard y el consejo de Asesores, miembros de la facultad, padres orgullosos, y, sobre todo, licenciados. &lt;br /&gt;Lo primero que me gustaría decir es ‘gracias’. No solo me ha concedido Harvard un honor extraordinario, sino semanas de terror y nauseas al pensar en dar este discurso de graduación que me han hecho perder unos cuantos kilos. Todos salimos ganando! Todo lo que tengo que hacer es respiran hondo, mirar los pendones rojos con los ojos medio cerrados, para convencerme a mi misma de que estoy ante la mayor reunión de Gryffindors del mundo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dar un discurso de graduación es una gran responsabilidad, o eso pensaba hasta que me acordé de mi propia graduación. El discurso ese día lo daba la distinguida filósofa Baronesa Mary Warnock. Reflexionando sobre su discurso me ha ayudado mucho al escribir este, porque resulta que no me acuerdo de una sola palabra de lo que dijo. Este descubrimiento liberador me permite continuar sin miedo de que pueda sin darme cuenta influiros a abandonar carreras prometedores en los negocios, derecho, política por el placer impetuoso de convertirse en un mago homosexual. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Veis? Si todos recordáis en unos años el chiste del mago homosexual, ya me habré adelantado a la baronesa. Metas alcanzables: el primer paso hacia la superación personal. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De hecho, me he devanado los sesos y el Corazón para lo que debo deciros hoy. Me he preguntado lo que hubiera querido saber en mi graduación, y qué lecciones importantes he aprendido en los veintiún años que han caducado entre este día y ese. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se me han ocurrido dos respuestas. En este día maravilloso en que nos hemos reunido aquí a celebrar vuestro éxito académico, he decidido hablaros de los beneficios del fracaso. Y mientras os encontráis a las puertas de lo que se llama a veces ‘la vida real’, quiero inculcaros la importancia crucial de la imaginación. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Puede parecer quijotesco o paradójico, pero dejadme continuar. Recordar quien era a los veintiún años es una experiencia un poco incómoda para la cuarentañera en que me he convertido. Hace media vida, caminaba la cuerda floja entre la ambición que tenía para mi misma, y lo que aquellos más cercanos a mí esperaban de mi. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Estaba convencida de que lo único que quería hacer, para siempre, era escribir novelas. No obstante, mis padres, ambos de clase baja y sin poderse permitir ir a la Universidad, tenían la idea de que mi imaginación hiperactiva era una rareza personal divertida que nunca llegaría a pagar la hipoteca o asegurar una jubilación. Sé que la ironía hace que impacte esta imagen como el agujero de un dibujo animado en una puerta. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Así que esperaban que hiciera una carrera con salida; yo quería estudiar literatura inglesa. Llegamos a un acuerdo en retrospectiva que no satisfacía a nadie, me metí a Lenguas Modernas. Tan pronto como torcieron la esquina con el coche, tire el alemán a la basura y me metí corre que te corre en Clásicas. &lt;br /&gt;No recuerdo decirles a mis padres que estaba estudiando clásicas; puede que se enteraran el día de mi graduación. De todas las asignaturas en este planeta, creo que les hubiera costado un triunfo nombrar una más inútil que la mitología griega en lo que respecta a asegurarse las llaves de una oficina propia en la directiva de alguna gran empresa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quiero clarificar, en un paréntesis, que no echo la culpa a mis padres de su punto de vista. Hay una fecha de caducidad para culpar a tus padres de guiarte en la dirección equivocada; el día que tiene edad para estar al volante, la responsabilidad es tuya. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Además, no puedo criticar a mis padres por desear que nunca tuviera que pasar yo por la pobreza. Habían sido pobres en sus carnes, y yo lo he sido después, y no puedo estar más de acuerdo con ellos en que la pobre no es una experiencia edificante. Conlleva miedo, estrés y a veces depresión; significa mil humillacioncitas y pasarlo mal. Salir de la pobreza por tu propio pie es desde luego algo de lo que estar orgulloso, pero la pobreza en si misma solo la romantizan los tontos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lo que más temía a vuestra edad, por mi misma, no era la pobreza, sino el fracaso. A vuestra edad, pese a una clara falta de motivación en la universidad, donde pasé demasiado tiempo en la cafetería escribiendo cuentos, y demasiado poco tiempo en las clases, tenía facilidad para aprobar exámenes y eso, durante años, había sido la mediad del éxito en mi vida y la de mis compañeros. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No me faltan las luces para suponer que porque seáis jóvenes, talentosos y bien educados, no lo habréis pasado mal o no os habrán roto el corazón. El talento y la inteligencia no han inmunizado a nadie aún contra el capricho del Destino, y ni se me ocurre que todos aquí han tenido una existencia de privilegio sin par y contento. No obstante, el hecho de que os estéis graduando de Harvard sugiere que no tenéis mucha experiencia del fracaso. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Puede que os conduzca el miedo al fracaso casi tanto como el deseo del éxito. Claro, vuestro concepto de fracaso puede que esté no demasiado lejos de la idea de éxito de la gente normal … así de alto habéis llegado a volar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al final, todos tenemos que decidir por nosotros mismos, lo que constituye fracaso, pero el mundo tiene muchas ganas de daros unos criterios si le dejáis. Así que creo que es justo decir que por cualquier medida convencional, solo a siete años de mi graduación, había fracasado a escala épica. Un matrimonio excepcionalmente corto se había roto, estaba sin curro, madres soltera y tan pobre como se puede ser en la Gran Bretaña moderna, sin llegar a estar sin casa. Los miedos que mis padres tenían para mí, y que yo compartía, se habían manifestado, y en la medida de cualquier estándar, era yo el mayor fracaso que conocía. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahora, no voy a deciros aquí que el fracaso mola. Ese periodo de mi vida fue oscuro, no tenía ni idea de que iba a ser lo que la prensa ha representado como una especie de resolución de cuento de hadas. No tenía ni idea cuanto más de túnel me quedaba, y por un largo tiempo, la luz al final fue una esperanza más que una realidad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Así que por que hablar de los beneficios del fracaso? Simplemente porque el fracaso significo quedarme sin nada que no fuera esencial. Dejé de hacerme creer que era nada más que lo que soy y empecé a dirigir toda mi energía a acabar el único trabajo que me importaba. Si hubiera tenido éxito en cualquier otra cosa, puede que nunca hubiera encontrado la voluntad de intentar tener éxito en el área al que creía firmemente pertenecer. Me había liberado porque mi peor miedo se había hecho realidad, y todavía estaba viva y todavía tenia una hija a la que adoraba y tenia una vieja maquina de escribir y una idea muy grande. Así que la roca pura se convirtió en mis cimientos sólidos sobre los que reconstruir mi vida entera. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Puede que nunca fracaséis a esta escala, pero el fracaso en la vida es inevitable. Es imposible vivir sin fracasar en algo, a no ser que vivas tan prudentemente que casi mejor no vivas – en cuyo caso, fracasas por defecto. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El fracaso me dio una seguridad interior que nunca habría adquirido por aprobar exámenes. El fracaso me enseño cosas sobre mi misma que no hubiera aprendido de otra manera. Descubrí que tenia muchísima fuerza de voluntad y mas disciplina de lo que sospechaba; también averigüe que tenia amigos cuyo valor estaba bien por encima del precio de los rubíes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El conocimiento de que te has hecho mas sabia y fuerte de los obstáculos significa que desde entonces te sientes segura en tu capacidad para sobrevivir. &lt;br /&gt;No te conocerás a ti misma, ni la fuerza de tus relaciones, hasta que hayan sido probadas por la adversidad. Ese conocimiento es un don verdadero, que se gana dolorosamente y que ha merecido mas la pena que cualquier titulo que he sacado jamás. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Así que si me dieran un giratiempo, le diría a la de 21 que la felicidad personal recae en saber que la vida no es una lista de adquisiciones o logros. Tus calificaciones, tu CV, no son tu vida, aunque te encontraras con gente de mi edad y mayores que confunden los dos. La vida es difícil, es complicada y mas allá del control de cualquiera, y se necesita la humildad para saber que siempre te equipara para sobrevivir las vicisitudes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahora pensareis que elegí mi Segundo tema, la importancia de la imaginación, porque jugo un gran papel en reconstruir mi vida, pero no es así totalmente. Aunque personalmente defenderé el valor de los cuentos antes de dormir hasta mi ultimo suspiro, he aprendido el valor de la imaginación en un sentido muchísimo mas amplio. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La imaginación no es solo la única capacidad humana para ver lo que no existe, y por lo tanto la fuente de toda invención e innovación. En su capacidad mas indiscutiblemente transformadora y reveladora, es su poder el que nos capacita para compadecer a los demás cuyas experiencias nunca hemos compartido. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Una de mis experiencias mas instructivas de mi vida precede a Harry Potter, aunque me dio la información para muchas cosas escritas en esos libros. Esta revelación vino de la mano de uno de mis trabajos mas prematuros. Aunque escribía cuentos en mis piradas de clase al almuerzo, pagaba la renta a mis 20 trabajando en el departamento de investigación africano en la sede internacional de amnistía internacional en Londres. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hay en mi pequeña oficina leía cartas escritas rápidamente sacadas de contrabando de regimenes totalitarios escritas por mujeres y hombres que se arriesgaban al encarcelamiento por informar al mundo exterior de los que les estaba ocurriendo. Vi fotos de los que habían desaparecido sin rastro, enviados a Amnistía por sus familiares y amigos. Leí el testimonio de victimas de torturas y vi las fotos de sus heridas. Leí testimonios a mano de testigos de juicios de sumario y ejecuciones, secuestros y violaciones. Muchos de mis colegas eran prisioneros políticos, gente que había sido desplazada de sus casas, o escapado al exilio, porque habían tenido la osadía de hablar contra sus gobiernos. Los visitantes a nuestras oficinas incluían a aquellos que habían venido a dar información y averiguar que había pasado a aquellos que habían dejado atrás. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nunca olvidare una victima de tortura Africana, una hombre joven no mayor que yo por entonces, que se había enfermado mentalmente después de lo que había pasado en su tierra. Temblaba sin cesar mientras hablaba a una cámara sobre la brutalidad que había experimentado. Era 20 o 30 cm. mas alto que yo y parecía tan frágil como un bebe. Me dieron el trabajo de llevarle hasta la estación de metro después y este hombre cuya vida había sido rota en pedazo por la crueldad tomo mi mano con exquisita cortesía y me deseo felicidad venidera. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y toda mi vida recordaré caminar por un pasillo largo y de repente escuchar, detrás de una puerta cerrada, un grito de dolor y de horror como nunca lo he oído jamás. La puerta se abrió y la investigadora saco la cabeza y me dijo que corriera a hacerle algo caliente al joven con ella. Le había tenido que dar las terribles noticias de que por haber hablado contra su país y su gobierno, habían arrestado y matado a su madre. Cada día de mi semana de trabajo a los 20 me recordaban lo increíblemente afortunada que soy, de vivir en un país con un gobierno elegido democráticamente, donde la representación legal y el juicio publico es el derecho de todos. &lt;br /&gt;Día tras día, vi mas pruebas de los males, que la humanidad ejerce en los demás humanos, para ganar o mantener el poder. Empecé a tener pesadillas, literal, sobre algunas de las cosas que vi, leí o oí. Y también aprendí mas sobre la bondad humana en Amnistía Internacional de lo que he llegado a conocer antes. Amnistía moviliza a miles de personas que han sido torturadas, encarceladas por sus creencias para actuar de su parte. El poder de la compasión humana, que lleva a la acción colectiva, salva vidas y libera a prisioneros. Gente normal, cuyo bienestar y seguridad personal están aseguradas, se unen por millones para salvar a gente que no conocen y que nunca conocerán. Mi participación pequeña en ese proceso fue una de las experiencias mas inspiradoras y edificantes de mi vida. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al contrario que cualquier otra criatura del planeta, los humanos podemos aprender y entender, sin haber pasado por lo mismo. Pueden pensar como se siente otra persona en su lugar. Claro que esto es un poder, como mi propia marca de magia ficticia, que es moralmente neutral. Uno puede usar esta capacidad para manipular, o controlar, así como para entender o compadecerse y ayudar. Y muchos prefieren no ejercitar su imaginar para nada. Prefieren quedarse cómodamente entre las fronteras de su propia experiencia, sin preocuparse de como será haber nacido en otro lugar. Pueden negarse a escuchar gritos o mirar dentro de celdas; pueden cerrar sus mentes corazones a cualquier sufrimiento que no los toca personalmente; pueden negarse a saber. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Puede que me tiente envidiar a gente que puede vivir así, excepto que no creo que tengan menos pesadillas que yo. Elegir vivir en sitios estrechos llega a una forma de agorafobia mental, y eso trae sus propios miedos. Creo que los anti-imaginativos por voluntad propia pueden ver más monstruos. Normalmente tienen mas miedo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Además, aquellos que eligen no compadecerse crean monstruos reales. Porque sin llegar a hacer ningún mal  por nosotros mismos, lo aceptamos, a través de nuestra propia apatía. Una de las muchas cosas que aprendí al final de ese pasillo de clásicas por el que baje cuando tenia 18, buscando algo que no podía definir aun, fue esto, escrito por el autor griego Plutarco: lo que logramos por dentro cambiará nuestra realidad exterior. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es una afirmación sorprendente y aun así probada mil veces cada día de nuestras vidas. Expresa, en parta, nuestra conexión inevitable con el mundo exterior, el hecho de que tocamos las vidas de otra gente simplemente al existir. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero cuanto mas vosotros, licenciados del 2008 en Harvard, tenéis la posibilidad de tocar la vida de otra gente? Vuestra inteligencia, capacidad para trabajar duro, la educación que habéis Ganado y recibido, os dan vuestro estatus único, y responsabilidades únicas. Incluso vuestra nacionalidad os distingue. La mayoría de vosotros pertenecéis a la única superpotencia que queda en el mundo. La manera en que votáis, la manera en que vivir, la manera en que protestáis, la presión que ponéis en vuestro gobierno, tiene un impacto mas allá de vuestras fronteras. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si elegís usar vuestro estatus e influencia para elevar la voz de los que no tienen; si elegís identificaros con no solo los poderoso pero los que no tienen poder; si guardáis la capacidad de imaginaros en las vidas de aquellos que no tienen vuestras ventajas, entonces no serán solo vuestras familias orgullosas las que celebraran vuestra existencia, sino miles, millones de personas cuya realidad habréis ayudado a cambiar. No necesitamos la magia para cambiar el mundo, todos tenemos el poder que necesitamos dentro de nosotros mismos ya: tenemos el poder de imaginar algo mejor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Casi termino ya. Tengo una ultima cosa que desearos, que es algo que ya tenia a los 21. Los amigos junto con los que me senté en la graduación han sido mis amigos por el resto de mi mida. Son los padrinos y madrinas de mis hijos, la gente con la que he podido contar en los momentos chungos, la gente que ha sido lo suficientemente amable para no denunciarme cuando use sus nombres para llamar a mortifagos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En nuestra graduación nos unía un afecto grandísimo, por nuestra experiencia compartida de un tiempo que no volvería jamás, y claro por el conocimiento de que teníamos ciertas pruebas fotográficas que serian excepcionalmente de valor si cualquiera de nosotros se metía de candidato a Primer ministro. &lt;br /&gt;Así que hoy, os deseo nada mejor que amistades similares. Y mañana, espero que si no recordáis ni una de mis palabras, recordéis aquellas de Séneca, otro de esos viejos romanos que conocí cuando me escape por el pasillo de clásicas, en retirada de las escaleras de carreras profesionales, a la búsqueda de sabiduría Antigua: Como los cuentos es la vida, no lo larga sino lo Buena es lo que importa. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Os deseo a todos muy buenas vidas. Muchas gracias.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-4285258689893129235?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/4285258689893129235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=4285258689893129235' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/4285258689893129235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/4285258689893129235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/04/sometimes-we-need-to-share-more-and.html' title='Sometimes we need to share more and keep less // A veces hay que compartir mas y guardar menos'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-4319485702959235738</id><published>2011-03-30T01:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-30T01:30:57.232-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a thousand words / mil palabras</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UglDoz0rWOY/TZLqPqLZE_I/AAAAAAAAAOk/JEfTmpFy1mY/s1600/karmic-horacio-cardozo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UglDoz0rWOY/TZLqPqLZE_I/AAAAAAAAAOk/JEfTmpFy1mY/s320/karmic-horacio-cardozo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589787642261214194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo borrowed from http://harmonist.us/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/karmic-horacio-cardozo.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-4319485702959235738?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/4319485702959235738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=4319485702959235738' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/4319485702959235738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/4319485702959235738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/03/thousand-words-mil-palabras.html' title='a thousand words / mil palabras'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UglDoz0rWOY/TZLqPqLZE_I/AAAAAAAAAOk/JEfTmpFy1mY/s72-c/karmic-horacio-cardozo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-1253369676701983934</id><published>2011-03-22T19:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-22T19:13:46.018-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gratitude // Gratitud por todo</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/_vp6fukuXwY" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y recordar siempre que estar bien es como hay que estar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and to remember forever that to be well is the way to be&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-1253369676701983934?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/1253369676701983934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=1253369676701983934' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/1253369676701983934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/1253369676701983934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/03/gratitude-gratitud-por-todo.html' title='Gratitude // Gratitud por todo'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/_vp6fukuXwY/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-6522679722100658176</id><published>2011-03-14T04:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-14T04:04:14.908-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pi Day // Dia de Pi</title><content type='html'>http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pi_Day&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-6522679722100658176?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/6522679722100658176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=6522679722100658176' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/6522679722100658176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/6522679722100658176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/03/pi-day-dia-de-pi.html' title='Pi Day // Dia de Pi'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-8391715411463408531</id><published>2011-03-08T14:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T14:00:43.508-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/aC8Ls-5nRxM" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-8391715411463408531?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/8391715411463408531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=8391715411463408531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/8391715411463408531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/8391715411463408531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/03/youtube-video-player.html' title=''/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/aC8Ls-5nRxM/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-6809757219134845862</id><published>2011-03-02T04:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T04:57:20.593-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just about Alive // Casi Muerto</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z_KP_BLfdX0/TW4-qnBBvoI/AAAAAAAAAOc/6Qu1fjIsYZI/s1600/rman5269l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 253px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z_KP_BLfdX0/TW4-qnBBvoI/AAAAAAAAAOc/6Qu1fjIsYZI/s320/rman5269l.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579465890107342466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.cartoonstock.com/newscartoons/cartoonists/rma/lowres/rman5269l.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-6809757219134845862?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/6809757219134845862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=6809757219134845862' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/6809757219134845862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/6809757219134845862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/03/just-about-alive-casi-muerto.html' title='Just about Alive // Casi Muerto'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z_KP_BLfdX0/TW4-qnBBvoI/AAAAAAAAAOc/6Qu1fjIsYZI/s72-c/rman5269l.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-3486527717262847346</id><published>2011-02-23T05:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-23T05:33:01.213-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Atareada // Busy (A-Task-ed)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8Nv-F2395z4/TWUMYRk3V2I/AAAAAAAAAOU/PvKBwUvI8s0/s1600/20081211elpepivin_1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 222px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8Nv-F2395z4/TWUMYRk3V2I/AAAAAAAAAOU/PvKBwUvI8s0/s320/20081211elpepivin_1.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576877324742645602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(foto de//picture from: &lt;br /&gt;http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1BCz93ZKaZk/TPgkIqDZfUI/AAAAAAAAAhY/I4H32fbkyUU/s400/20081211elpepivin_1.png)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EDITORIAL PERSONAL &lt;br /&gt;EN RESPUESTA A LOS TESTS EN CLASE &lt;br /&gt;SOBRE EL DEFENSOR DEL PROFESOR&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La transitividad crítica, a la que llegaríamos &lt;br /&gt;con una educación dialogal y activa,&lt;br /&gt; orientada hacia la responsabilidad social y política, &lt;br /&gt;se caracteriza por la profundidad&lt;br /&gt; en la interpretación de los problemas. &lt;br /&gt;(Paulo Freire)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Supongo que algunos de nosotros no podemos dejar de ser profesores ni a las tantas de la madrugada, recién salidos de la bañera. Incluso a veces cuando me meto en mi mundo acuático para desconectar y relajarme un poco, pienso en mis estudiantes. ¡Qué triste! ¿No?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Pero lo cierto es que, mientras disfrutaba de ese lujazo que es darse un baño, no podía dejar de pensar en las redacciones que acababa de corregir de mis alumnos sobre los videos del ‘defensor del profesor’. La verdad es que tampoco es preocupación, también hay momentos de alivio cómico. No me puedo olvidar de recordarles a estos estudiantes que la palabra ‘support’ en castellano es masculino y que si se utiliza oralmente en femenino causa una broma que me va a hacer reír algunas semanas sin remedio. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me ha sorprendido comprobar que la mayoría de mis alumnos están a favor de un cargo del tipo del defensor del profesor. En nuestra cultura española, supongo que tiene ya una tradición puesto que tenemos un cargo llamado ‘defensor del pueblo’ , que desconozco si existe, pero me extrañaría que existiera en Irlanda. &lt;br /&gt;Me parece inaudito que carezcamos de responsabilidad civil y de espíritu crítico a estas alturas del siglo XXI, o que se considere necesaria la existencia de un ‘salvador’, un defensor, un gran hermano para personas adultas y profesionales que deben entender los riesgos que conlleva su trabajo y aprender a establecer los límites de su jurisdicción, así como manejar con soltura las herramientas para el diálogo y la resolución de conflictos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No estoy diciendo que el profesor tenga que ser educador, policía, psicólogo, primeros auxilios y padre o madre además de su trabajo como facilitador del aprendizaje - y en nuestros días muchos de los profesionales de la enseñanza se ven presionados para hacer este tipo de tareas adicionales-; pero sí ha de saber que el trabajo de profesor, como todo aquel trabajo que se realiza al servicio de otras personas está expuesto al factor sorpresa, que es encontrarse con personas que no son fáciles de tratar, que tienen un comportamiento más o menos razonable o que son simple y llanamente agresivos. Y entonces, cuando se produce este encuentro indeseable, ¿qué hacer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mi entender las cosas son más simples. Una agresión física o verbal no deja de ser delito dentro de la escuela o de la casa o en la calle, sea perpetrado por quienquiera que sea perpetrado y dondequiera que sea llevado a cabo. Por lo tanto no necesitamos más defensores del profesor o del estudiante porque ya los tenemos. Ya existen suficientes cuerpos de ‘seguridad’ del estado a nuestra disposición. Por ejemplo, no es la primera vez que me he encontrado alumnos que se llaman eufemísticamente ‘problemáticos’ en las aulas, incluso universitarias. Me refiero al típico alumno al que le gusta incordiar e interrumpir el diálogo o el curso de la clase por motivos diferentes o que directamente abusa verbalmente – en este caso – del profesor o de los alumnos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sin ir más lejos, un caso de este tipo se vivió el año pasado en nuestras aulas en la facultad de filosofía y letras de Galway. El estudiante en cuestión abusó de sus compañeras de clase – nótese el femenino – con comentarios poco inteligentes y machistas. Las estudiantes se quejaban al profesor, pero no intentaron hacer nada ellas mismas. Incluso hubo una queja formal y por escrito de la clase al profesor y luego al coordinador y director del departamento en cuestión pero los estudiantes nunca intentaron individualmente o como grupo – que se sepa – hablar con el dichoso estudiante aunque me consta que se les recomendó que lo hicieran. &lt;br /&gt;Este tipo se metió con hasta ocho profesores cuestionando sus conocimientos abiertamente en el aula y con argumentos que no tenían ninguna lógica y que simplemente hacían que los demás estudiantes perdieran su precioso tiempo. Estos profesores evidentemente sí intentaron hacer algo al respecto. Se habló con el estudiante y se le invitó a expresar sus quejas por la vía adecuada a través de e-mail o formularios de evaluación del curso y de los profesores en cuestión, pero él continuó con su conducta socialmente molesta. Los incidentes fueron redactados y pasaron a manos de autoridades universitarias que optaron por los avisos verbales – que tuvieron que ser varios y repetidos – hasta que la conducta del estudiante en cuestión no cambió demasiado, pero dejo de ser abusiva; con los compañeros de clase por lo menos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He sacado este ejemplo a relucir porque ilustra que no se trata de una cuestión de respeto o de miedo. Es una cuestión de distribución de la responsabilidad, o en otras palabras, del poder. Supongo que a todos algunas veces nos gustaría seguir siendo niños toda la vida y que el gran hermano viniera a sacarnos las castañas del fuego. Pero como adultos responsables, responded por vosotros mismos a estas preguntas: &lt;br /&gt;Si una persona me molesta, ¿de quién es la responsabilidad primera de atajar el problema? &lt;br /&gt;Si mi vecino pone la música muy alta tres noches seguidas, ¿llamó a la policía primero o intento hablar con él?  &lt;br /&gt;El tema no es la falta de defensa. El problema es de otra índole, claro está, porque el problema existe, ha existido y existirá. Por eso, quizá lo más sorprendentes para mí ha sido que ninguno de mis alumnos ha mencionado, dándole la vuelta a la tortilla, la falta de defensa del estudiante que hubo en este país durante los larguísimos años de abuso físico en las escuelas irlandesas. Ahí era justo al revés. Entiendo que esto ha sido un capítulo de la historia educativa que todo país querría desterrar de la memoria, pero… como decía Sabina, más vale que no tengas que elegir entre el olvido y la memoria.   &lt;br /&gt;Nuestro sistema escolar sigue arrastrando los mismos problemas que tenía antes, y que se podrían resumir en uno muy grande y por consecuente, imposible de solucionar a ese nivel: La distribución desigual del poder y como consecuencia, de la responsabilidad. &lt;br /&gt;Aunque podríamos decir que este problema no es exclusivo al sistema escolar. Está presente en todas nuestras estructuras institucionales y lamentablemente, en muchas instituciones sociales y culturales también como la familia, el trabajo, las asociaciones, etcétera… &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me indigna la forma de hablar de nuestro líder de la oposición, Mariano Rajoy, cuando dice que el profesor es una figura esencial en la educación de nuestros hijos, porque reivindica una forma de ver al profesor anticuada y estéril. Me dan ganas de llamarle y decirle: ‘mi querido señor Rajoy, léase unos cuantos libros de educación, pues no sé, desde los años sesenta o antes, y luego intente opinar sobre el tema’. El profesor ha dejado de ser, junto con el médico y el cura, uno de los tres pilares de nuestra sociedad. El profesor es la persona que ayuda a aprender. Puede ayudar a motivar o desmotivar al alumno pero la motivación inicial, y por lo tanto, la responsabilidad de que el alumno aprenda no recae en el profesor exclusivamente, sino que está compartida por el que quiere aprender y el que cobra por enseñar. O será así hasta que se inventen los chips con información que nos puedan implantar en el cerebro. &lt;br /&gt;La agresividad en las aulas no es un problema que se vaya a solucionar con la figura de un nuevo juez o policía al mando. La agresividad en las calles no se solucionó con la creación de más niveles de policía – en España, como sabréis, tenemos la local, municipal, nacional y la guardia civil. En cambio, como algunos de mis alumnos han sabido notar, la agresividad física en algunas escuelas se apacigua a medida de que el poder adquisitivo de la sociedad de esa escuela aumenta o cuando no hay diferencias económicas visibles. Permitidme una pequeña dosis de sarcasmo aquí entonces: ¿esto qué querrá decir? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si ONeill o Freire levantaran la cabeza, se horrorizarían pensando que nos han lavado tanto el cerebro que hemos aprendido a comulgar con las ruedas de molino de que a mayor control estatal, menores problemas. Como dice Chae-eun Park, la ausencia de control exterior en Summerhill – escuela internado fundada por O’Neill – fue lo que le enseñó a asumir responsabilidad sobre sus acciones. Ella dice que fue a esta escuela entre los siete y los dieciséis años y está orgullosa de haber asistido allí porque le ha dado una forma de ver las cosas única. Summerhill dejó de ser un experimento hace tiempo. Allí se puede elegir hacer lo que quieres hacer, cuando y donde quieres hacerlo. A nadie se le fuerza a hacer nada. Dice Chae-eung que ser moderadora de una reunión, pirarse las clases e ir a preguntarle a un profesor que te enseñara historia eran arte y parte de la vida en esta escuela.  Ella también cuenta que esta forma de devolverle todo el poder – que es legítimamente suyo - de tomar decisiones sobre sus acciones desde pequeña y hacerle responsable de sus propias decisiones –le ha dado muchísima confianza en sí misma . A Summerhill han ido durante muchos años los alumnos que nadie quiere en las escuelas ‘normales’, es decir, los alumnos ‘molestos’, que iban siendo expulsados de una escuela a otra hasta llegar a Summerhill. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La agresividad en las aulas, espero y deseo que se solucione al estilo Summerhill, con la creación de plataformas de apoyo dentro de las escuelas compuestas por alumnos, profesores, jefes de estudios, gabinetes psicopedagógicos, directores, padres y… espero no haberme dejado a nadie. O sea, la herramienta que dará resultados sin lugar a dudas será un diálogo inclusivo que proporcione soluciones creativas. Este tipo de plataformas distribuiría la responsabilidad igualmente y devolvería el poder donde realmente reside: en todos y cada uno de nosotros.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;P.D. – Si queréis responderme, sois bienvenidos. Se admiten textos o audios en español de la manera que os plazca.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-3486527717262847346?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/3486527717262847346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=3486527717262847346' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/3486527717262847346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/3486527717262847346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/02/atareada-busy-task-ed.html' title='Atareada // Busy (A-Task-ed)'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8Nv-F2395z4/TWUMYRk3V2I/AAAAAAAAAOU/PvKBwUvI8s0/s72-c/20081211elpepivin_1.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-798467541373545117</id><published>2011-02-16T11:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T11:51:44.709-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Brain dead... it may not be such a bad thing .... /// Muerta cerebralmente... puede que no sea tan malo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QW8yk4Xaq-k/TVwqxQ_IqXI/AAAAAAAAAOM/rXATtOdrmPI/s1600/mafalda.2.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QW8yk4Xaq-k/TVwqxQ_IqXI/AAAAAAAAAOM/rXATtOdrmPI/s320/mafalda.2.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574377464639564146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-798467541373545117?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/798467541373545117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=798467541373545117' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/798467541373545117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/798467541373545117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/02/brain-dead-it-may-not-be-such-bad-thing.html' title='Brain dead... it may not be such a bad thing .... /// Muerta cerebralmente... puede que no sea tan malo'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QW8yk4Xaq-k/TVwqxQ_IqXI/AAAAAAAAAOM/rXATtOdrmPI/s72-c/mafalda.2.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-7884347796627088909</id><published>2011-02-08T14:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-08T14:08:42.475-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Too tired / Agotá</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TVG-ym22-FI/AAAAAAAAAOE/W66U8n1HK5U/s1600/too-tired-kitty.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TVG-ym22-FI/AAAAAAAAAOE/W66U8n1HK5U/s320/too-tired-kitty.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571443990667393106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://cosinekitty.com/too-tired-kitty.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-7884347796627088909?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/7884347796627088909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=7884347796627088909' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7884347796627088909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7884347796627088909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/02/too-tired-agota.html' title='Too tired / Agotá'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TVG-ym22-FI/AAAAAAAAAOE/W66U8n1HK5U/s72-c/too-tired-kitty.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-353258810562049288</id><published>2011-02-03T11:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T12:05:56.006-08:00</updated><title type='text'>El flautista / the piper</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TUsKjN18haI/AAAAAAAAAN8/VUauqeK7zsc/s1600/PiedPiper.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 253px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TUsKjN18haI/AAAAAAAAAN8/VUauqeK7zsc/s320/PiedPiper.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569556964301374882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mi ultima obsesion creativa&lt;br /&gt;my last creative obsession&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;comentarios?&lt;br /&gt;any comments?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-353258810562049288?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/353258810562049288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=353258810562049288' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/353258810562049288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/353258810562049288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/02/el-flautista-piper.html' title='El flautista / the piper'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TUsKjN18haI/AAAAAAAAAN8/VUauqeK7zsc/s72-c/PiedPiper.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-8214401806731305741</id><published>2011-01-26T13:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-26T13:42:34.044-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TUCUWrWQiCI/AAAAAAAAANw/sXdZRG-2pwE/s1600/35_domesticcat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 138px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TUCUWrWQiCI/AAAAAAAAANw/sXdZRG-2pwE/s320/35_domesticcat.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566612256744048674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preámbulo a las instrucciones para dar cuerda al reloj &lt;br /&gt;Julio Cortázar &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Piensa en esto: cuando te regalan un reloj te regalan un pequeño infierno florido, una cadena de rosas, un calabozo de aire.  No te dan solamente un reloj, que los cumplas muy felices, y esperamos que te dure porque es de buena marca, suizo con anácora de rubíes; no te regalan solamente ese menudo picapedrero que te atarás a la muñeca y pasearás contigo.  Te regalan -no lo saben, lo terrible es que no lo saben-, te regalan un nuevo pedazo frágil y precario de ti mismo, algo que es tuyo, pero no es tu cuerpo, que hay que atar a tu cuerpo con su correa como un bracito desesperado colgándose de tu muñeca.  Te regalan la necesidad de darle cuerda para que siga siendo un reloj; te regalan la obsesión de a atender a la hora exacta en las vitrinas de las joyerías, en el anuncio por la radio, en el servicio telefónico.  Te regalan el miedo de perderlo, de que te lo roben, de que se caiga al suelo y se rompa.  Te regalan su marca, y la seguridad de que es una marca mejor que las otras, te regalan la tendencia a comparar tu reloj &lt;br /&gt;con los demas relojes.  No te regalan un reloj, tu eres el regalado, a ti te ofrecen para el cumpleaños del reloj. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instrucciones para dar cuerda al reloj &lt;br /&gt;Julio Cortázar &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allá al fondo está la muerte, pero no tenga miedo. Sujete el reloj con una mano, tome con dos dedos la llave de la cuerda, remóntela suavemente.  Ahora se abre otro plazo, los árboles despliegan sus hojas, las barcas corren regatas, el tiempo como un abanico se va llenando de sí mismo y de él brotan el aire, las brisas de la tierra, la sombra de una mujer, el perfume del pan. &lt;br /&gt;¿Qué más quiere, qué más quiere? Atelo pronto a su muñeca, déjelo latir en libertad, imítelo anhelante.  El miedo herrumbra las áncoras, cada cosa que pudo alcanzarse y fue olvidada va corroyendo las venas del reloj, gangrenando la fría sangre de sus rubíes. Y allá en el fondo está la muerte si no corremos y llegamos antes y comprendemos que ya no importa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.bsasliteraria.com.ar/manual%20de%20instrucciones.htm&lt;br /&gt;Preamble To The Instructions On How&lt;br /&gt;To Wind a Watch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think of this: when they present you with a watch, they are gifting you with a tiny flowering hell, a wreath of roses, a dungeon of air. They aren't simply wishing the watch on you, and many more, and we hope it will last you, it's a good grand, Swiss, seventeen rubies; they aren't just giving you this minute stonecutter which will bind you by the wrist and walk along with you. They are giving you - they don't know it, it's terrible that they don't know it - they are gifting you with a new fragile and precarious piece of yourself, something that's yours but not a part of your body, that you have to strap to your body like your belt, like a tiny, furious bit of something hanging onto your wrist. They gift you with the job of having to wind it every day, an obligation to wind it, so that it goes on being a watch, they gift you with the obsession of looking into jewelry-shop windows to check the exact time, check the radio announcer, check the telephone service. They give you the gift of fear, someone will steal it from you, it'll fall on the street and get broken. They give you the gift of your trademark and the assurance that it's a trademark better than others, they gift you with the impulse to compare your watch with other watches. They aren't giving you a watch, you are the gift, they are giving you yourself for the watch's birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instructions On How to Wind a Watch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Death stands there in the background, but don't be afraid. Hold the watch down with one hand, take the stem in two fingers, and rotate it smoothly. Now, another installment of time opens, trees spread their leaves, boats run races, like a fan time continues filling with itself, and from that burgeon of air, the breezes of earth, the shadow of a woman, the sweet smell of bread.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did you expect, what more did you want? Quickly, strap it to your wrist, let it tick away in freedom, imitate it greedily. Fear will rust all the rubies, everything that could happen to it and was forgotten is about to corrode the watch's veins, cranking the cold blood with its tiny rubies. And death is there in the background, we must run to arrive beforehand and understand it's already unimportant.&lt;br /&gt;http://diary.carolyn.org/watch.html&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-8214401806731305741?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/8214401806731305741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=8214401806731305741' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/8214401806731305741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/8214401806731305741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/01/preambulo-las-instrucciones-para-dar.html' title=''/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TUCUWrWQiCI/AAAAAAAAANw/sXdZRG-2pwE/s72-c/35_domesticcat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-2762364931629643652</id><published>2011-01-22T05:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-22T15:23:12.140-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reviews / Re-vistas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TTtmzettKlI/AAAAAAAAANo/A-aVFCq7_6c/s1600/EventIntention9854front1293.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TTtmzettKlI/AAAAAAAAANo/A-aVFCq7_6c/s320/EventIntention9854front1293.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565154799150508626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo from: &lt;br /&gt;http://www.tribalharmonix.org/events/details854.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Escrito en el movil bajo peligro de perder los dedos por el frio:&lt;br /&gt;Written on my phone under the risk of losing my fingers to the cold:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aterrizan los cisnes en el rio :) y amenazando a los remeros madrugadores que supongo que son de otra especie, de la mia no, desde luego. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Swans land in the river :) threatening the early rising rowers that I guess belong to another species, not mine, clearly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El soy hoy no se abre paso ni quemando el color del horizonte. Si mirara para arriba bocabajo, las nubes... me servirían de cama o serian demasiado húmedas? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sun today doesn't get through, not even burning the colour of the sky line - sorry, I hate the word horizon in English, I know prejudice :S - If I looked up face down, the clouds... would they be my bed or would they be too damp? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El pimpán de mis pies bombea pensamientos 'abrecaminosinexplorados'. Por ejemplo: &lt;br /&gt;a que la reacción tan iracunda frente a un esfuerzo creativo. 'La idea era buena'. &lt;br /&gt;A lo mejor resulta que es la transacción económica la razón de esta rabia. &lt;br /&gt;o quizá una moralidad artística cerradita. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The knock knock of my feet pumps up 'openingunexploredtrail' thoughts. For instance: What was this enraged reaction towards a creative effort coming from? 'The idea was good'. Perhaps it's all about the economic transaction. Or maybe narrow minded artistic morals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El caso es que nosotros, los elegidos, salimos llenos de despecho y no del amor que el espectáculo profesaba. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thing is that we, the chosen ones, left the theatre full of despise and not the love that the show confessed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me viene la palabra modestia a la cabeza y me hace reír porque no es buena consejera en estas lides, más bien rara compañera insociable de artistas y poetas. Y no sé, si  les faltaba modestia a estos artistas. Tampoco sé si es muy bueno que te sobre modestia en este 'ge-cálido' mundo del arte y de la actuación. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The word modesty comes to mind and makes me laugh because it is not a good counsellor in these environments, it's more of an awkward antisocial mate of artists and poets. And I don't know, if they were lacking in modesty, these artists. I don't know either if it's very good for an artist to have plenty of modesty in this 'freezwarm' world of art and performance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O quizá faltaban correcciones. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe they were lacking feedback. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Siempre es mas fácil culpar al director que a todo el equipo, si lo hubiera. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's always easier to blame the director than the whole team, if there was any. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero vuelvo. Me molesta pensar que la ira tenía que ver con la transacción económica. No me gusta entender esta visión capitalista del arte. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I shall come back. It bothers me to think that my rage had to do with the economic transaction. I don't like to understand this capitalist vision of art. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y hoy un poco, también me molesta referirme solo al mi propio 'artómetro' de mercurio que no subía el jueves por la noche. Supongo que lo dice como mi lengua madre, para gustos los colores. La temperatura del espectáculo no le registraba mi artómetro pero eso no es razón para enfadarse, para sentir que a uno le han tomado el pelo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and today, it bothers me a little bit as well to refer only to my own 'artometre' made of mercury that didn't go up on Thursday night. I guess that as my native tongue says, you've got a range of colours to suit all tastes. The temperature of the show didn't register in my artometre but that's no reason to get angry, to feel that your leg has been pulled. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Supongo que hoy me toca agradecer a este espectáculo dos cosas: &lt;br /&gt;- que me recuerden las ganas que tengo de hacer algo creativo&lt;br /&gt;- que me hagan cuestionarme lo que busco en escena, lo que me gusta y lo que no y por qué no. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that today I need to thank the show for two reasons: &lt;br /&gt;- for reminding me I really feel like doing something creative. &lt;br /&gt;- for questioning what I look for at the stage, what I like and I don't and why not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Que al fin y al cabo es una manera - normal - de exorcizar los disgustos. Definitivamente, el espectáculo me movió... en la dirección correcta. Y mi desacuerdo con el producto no va más allá de la autobiografía. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which, after all it's just a way - normal way - of exorcising the bad news/feelings/aftertaste (that word is Spanish is way too elastic to find one in English). Definitely, the show moved me... in the right direction. And my disagreement with the product doesn't go beyond autobiography. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahora, si esto estuviera en facebook y hubiera muchas autobiografías concordantes con esta mía... si yo fuera directora, me lo pensaría dos veces... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if this was on facebook, and there were many autobiographies along the same lines of this one... if I were a director, I'd think about it twice...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-2762364931629643652?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/2762364931629643652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=2762364931629643652' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/2762364931629643652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/2762364931629643652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/01/reviews-re-vistas.html' title='Reviews / Re-vistas'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TTtmzettKlI/AAAAAAAAANo/A-aVFCq7_6c/s72-c/EventIntention9854front1293.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-1389904266582549480</id><published>2011-01-18T12:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-18T12:05:12.553-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rios de Babilonia</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/fGyfxOCYvtM?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/fGyfxOCYvtM?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-1389904266582549480?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/1389904266582549480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=1389904266582549480' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/1389904266582549480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/1389904266582549480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/01/rios-de-babilonia.html' title='Rios de Babilonia'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-5555118857393472771</id><published>2011-01-12T09:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-12T09:14:51.187-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Change is:&lt;br /&gt;* A break in the normal routine.&lt;br /&gt;* A threat to our security.&lt;br /&gt;* An alteration in our current life-style.&lt;br /&gt;* The unknown, the ambiguous, the uncertainty one must face after a loss.&lt;br /&gt;* The challenging of old beliefs, attitudes and values after a loss occurs.&lt;br /&gt;* The modification of current patterns of social interaction and conduct in adjusting to an altered life after a loss occurs.&lt;br /&gt;* A challenge to the status quo.&lt;br /&gt;* Unsettling the calm and peace previously established.&lt;br /&gt;* The requirement to shift one's way of reacting to a loss.&lt;br /&gt;* The process by which a system reshapes or reforms itself in returning to a stable, functional condition.&lt;br /&gt;* A motivator for individuals to review the way they are living their lives and relating to others; a chance to improve their relationships and their quality of life.&lt;br /&gt;* Altering the sense and order we have maintained in life.&lt;br /&gt;* Shifting of priorities to make new order and sense out of the consequences of the change.&lt;br /&gt;* An unbalancing in which we are unsure of ourselves and unsure of our ability to adjust.&lt;br /&gt;* A requirement for us to call on our inner, untapped resources to adjust and cope with the results.&lt;br /&gt;* Often a requirement for us to call on others to help us adjust and cope with the consequences.&lt;br /&gt;* Perceived with fear and dread because of its unknown and ambiguous nature.&lt;br /&gt;*A continuous process of readjusting and refining relationships and ways of acting.&lt;br /&gt;* A process required to improve our current level of functioning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ALL OF THE ABOVE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What feelings do people have when facing the possibility of change in their lives?&lt;br /&gt;Fear, discouragement, anxiety, insecurity, caution, anger, confusion, anticipation, inhibited disappointment, concern, unsettled depression, avoidance, uncomfortable dread, excitement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ALL OF THE ABOVE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do people who avoid change act?&lt;br /&gt;People who actively avoid change in their lives:&lt;br /&gt;* Act in a cautious manner in all aspects of their lives, personal and professional.&lt;br /&gt;* Deny the need for altered behavior resulting from a loss.&lt;br /&gt;* Get angry with the people in their lives who confront them with the need for change in order to adjust to a loss.&lt;br /&gt;* Fantasize how life has remained the same despite a loss and ignore any signs &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ALL OF THE ABOVE &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are some irrational beliefs we have about change?&lt;br /&gt;* I could never adjust to that change.&lt;br /&gt;* You should adjust to all changes easily.&lt;br /&gt;* You must always lose a part of yourself in order to adjust to a change.&lt;br /&gt;ALL OF THE ABOVE. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are some benefits to be gained by adjusting to change? &lt;br /&gt;* Appropriate coping and development of adaptive behavior patterns required by the loss.&lt;br /&gt;* Individual, personal, social and emotional growth.&lt;br /&gt;* Increased personal, marital, family or work productivity.&lt;br /&gt;* Restoration of a sense of order and purpose to life.&lt;br /&gt;* A "getting on" with our life with a minimum of delay, confusion or complication resulting from the avoidance of change.&lt;br /&gt;* Identification of a set of internal resources and strengths perhaps not previously evident in ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;* A conservation of our personal energy by channeling it into necessary and desirable activities in the adjustment to change.&lt;br /&gt;*Avoiding fearful, paranoid or frightened behavior in activities that might result in change.&lt;br /&gt;* A relaxed point of view about the realities of life and open acceptance of the inevitability of change and adaptation for the future.&lt;br /&gt;* A realistic establishment of goals for ourselves and others that fit within the parameters of the resulting change.&lt;br /&gt;*Giving ourselves a chance to use our positive qualities and attributes to their fullest, validating our self-worth and goodness.&lt;br /&gt;*An improvement of our mental health by reducing stress induced by the need for adapting to change. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NONE OF THE ABOVE YET&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Action steps for accepting change&lt;br /&gt;Step 1. Determine what change is most likely to occur after a specific loss. In determining what the change is, answer the following questions:&lt;br /&gt;* When will this change take place? NO IDEA&lt;br /&gt;* How will the change affect my interpersonal relationships? REDEFINITION&lt;br /&gt;* What material things in my life will be affected by this change? MY JOB, MY LOCATION, MY PRIORITIES, MY HOUSE&lt;br /&gt;* How will my work be affected by this change? DIRECTLY, I MAY HAVE TO GIVE IT UP FOR A WHILE&lt;br /&gt;* How will this change affect myself or my personality? HUGE. THINGS I NEED TO LEARN.&lt;br /&gt;* What are the benefits to me of fully accepting this change? NOT SURE. FEEL BETTER WITH MYSELF?&lt;br /&gt;* What are the consequences if I do not fully accept this change? GUILT&lt;br /&gt;* How will this change affect my family and/or marriage? IT'S ALL ABOUT THEM.&lt;br /&gt;* What information do I need in order to openly accept this change. PARENTS' IDEAS. SISTER'S DIAGNOSIS. &lt;br /&gt;* What personal beliefs, opinions, attitudes or behavior will need to be adapted in order for my full acceptance of this change?  MY GOALS AND IDEAS ABOUT MY FUTURE. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Step 2. Once you have answered the questions in Step 1, describe the change with which you are dealing as a result of the specific loss.&lt;br /&gt;LOSS OF SECURITY IN THE PARENTAL ENVIRONMENT. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Step 3. Now that you know what the change is, create a visual image of yourself six months from now after having fully accepted the change. In this visualization picture yourself as successfully coping with the change. Include the following variables into your visual image:&lt;br /&gt;* People involved&lt;br /&gt;* Material objects involved&lt;br /&gt;* Your work, if involved&lt;br /&gt;* Your family and/or spouse, if involved&lt;br /&gt;* You as a person: how you are feeling, how you are acting and your success in the new, changed circumstance &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WISHFUL THINKING. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Step 4. Use the visual image of your successful acceptance of change in a process of self-instruction.&lt;br /&gt;Self-instruction involves the following events:&lt;br /&gt;*Get yourself into a relaxed state by using both muscle relaxation and deep breathing.&lt;br /&gt;*Once you are relaxed, begin to visualize the image of successful acceptance of change.&lt;br /&gt;* As you observe this image, tell yourself how you can achieve this changed life.&lt;br /&gt;*Tell yourself you deserve this successful conclusion to your loss.&lt;br /&gt;* Keep observing this image in a relaxed state for up to 30 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;* When you are ready to end the visual image, count backward from five, and arise with a commitment to full acceptance of the change and the successful life adaptation you just visualized. &lt;br /&gt;Repeat this visual imagery at least once a day until you begin to believe and act in a way that reflects your full acceptance of the change in your life and your adaptation to it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Step 5. If you are still unable to accept or adapt to the change, perhaps you never realized exactly what the change would be. Perhaps you are immobilized due to your resistance to change. In either case, repeat Steps 1 through 5 until you have gained acceptance of the change.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-5555118857393472771?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/5555118857393472771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=5555118857393472771' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5555118857393472771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5555118857393472771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/01/change-is-break-in-normal-routine.html' title=''/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-7763247666083523385</id><published>2011-01-03T14:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-03T14:04:27.887-08:00</updated><title type='text'>han vuelto // they are here</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8hQkBLrd1rE?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8hQkBLrd1rE?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-7763247666083523385?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/7763247666083523385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=7763247666083523385' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7763247666083523385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7763247666083523385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2011/01/han-vuelto-they-are-here.html' title='han vuelto // they are here'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-2039728172418420655</id><published>2010-12-01T13:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-01T13:36:11.376-08:00</updated><title type='text'>In French / En Francés</title><content type='html'>Et de ratage en ratage, on s'habitue à ne jamais dépasser le stade du brouillon. La vie n'est que l'interminable répétition d'une représentation qui n'aura jamais lieu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TPa_te8WjzI/AAAAAAAAANU/N2SdunfFsh0/s1600/Man%2526wheel.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 208px; height: 204px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TPa_te8WjzI/AAAAAAAAANU/N2SdunfFsh0/s320/Man%2526wheel.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545830779274563378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A mí quién me mandará ... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder why...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;meterme donde no me llaman. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stick my nose into someone else's business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo from: &lt;br /&gt;Foto de: http://www.katearbon.com/Img/Man&amp;wheel.gif&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-2039728172418420655?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/2039728172418420655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=2039728172418420655' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/2039728172418420655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/2039728172418420655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/12/in-french-en-frances.html' title='In French / En Francés'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TPa_te8WjzI/AAAAAAAAANU/N2SdunfFsh0/s72-c/Man%2526wheel.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-7245999416897901805</id><published>2010-11-27T04:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-27T04:15:34.400-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Noticiarios de la bola de cristal // Crystal ball News</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TE74TMgHpik?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TE74TMgHpik?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-7245999416897901805?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/7245999416897901805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=7245999416897901805' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7245999416897901805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7245999416897901805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/11/noticiarios-de-la-bola-de-cristal.html' title='Noticiarios de la bola de cristal // Crystal ball News'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-1711803495737017989</id><published>2010-11-27T04:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-27T04:14:05.793-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hoy toca la bola de cristal / Today Crystal Ball</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tfHOkQMNlMU?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tfHOkQMNlMU?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-1711803495737017989?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/1711803495737017989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=1711803495737017989' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/1711803495737017989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/1711803495737017989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/11/hoy-toca-la-bola-de-cristal-today.html' title='Hoy toca la bola de cristal / Today Crystal Ball'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-2463858599234821021</id><published>2010-11-24T13:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-24T13:15:48.585-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Deja Vu // Lo tengo mú visto</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TO1-_5WDzYI/AAAAAAAAANM/OlhM9syHhLs/s1600/W300px_1302-mid-ireland.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 168px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TO1-_5WDzYI/AAAAAAAAANM/OlhM9syHhLs/s320/W300px_1302-mid-ireland.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5543226352553151874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; A volcano goes off in Iceland and the media portray it as a tragedy, while there were several ones going off in Congo, China, Thailand... but who cares about them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Explota un volcán en Islandia y los medios lo retratan como tragedia, mientras varios erupcionan en Congo, China, Tailandia, pero a quién le importan. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now... Ireland is experiencing the recession of very bad management at government level - which is not new... it's been a long history of patching politics - and it's a tragedy. While the figures of some other developing countries, even in EUROPE!!!!, could put some of our salaries to shame, (that is... if they had any).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahora Irlanda se cae con todo el equipo, pasa por la recesión de un malísima administración gubernamental - que no es nueva... llevan una carrera de política de parcheo larga y dura - y es una tragedia. Mientras los numeros de otros paises en vias de desarrollo, incluso en EUROPA!!!!!!, le sacarian los colores a algunos de nuestros salarios, si tuvieramos verguenza, claro. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I'm not saying you shouldn't get up and fight. You should! But for a fair and sensible government, not because your IPOD and LAPTOP culture is at peril!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No digo que no te levantes y luches. Deberias hacerlo! Pero por un gobierno sensato y justo, no porque tu cultura de Ipod y Portatil esten en peligro. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call me an idealist! Look how I care!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Llamadme idealista! Me importa un bledo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-2463858599234821021?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/2463858599234821021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=2463858599234821021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/2463858599234821021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/2463858599234821021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/11/deja-vu-lo-tengo-mu-visto.html' title='Deja Vu // Lo tengo mú visto'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TO1-_5WDzYI/AAAAAAAAANM/OlhM9syHhLs/s72-c/W300px_1302-mid-ireland.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-1057202662793360064</id><published>2010-11-23T14:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-23T14:56:39.307-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Carreras de Obstaculos // Steeplechase</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TOxGkVYbm8I/AAAAAAAAANE/LOl_Z7PjA0U/s1600/peces%2By%2Bculo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 161px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TOxGkVYbm8I/AAAAAAAAANE/LOl_Z7PjA0U/s320/peces%2By%2Bculo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542882831415090114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A veces conseguir estar con alguien es como una carrera de obstaculos. &lt;br /&gt;Otras veces, &lt;br /&gt;pienso, &lt;br /&gt;que es mas una maraton&lt;br /&gt;un ejercicio de resistencia. &lt;br /&gt;Veamos quien de todas llega al final con resuello. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes to manage to be with someone is like a steeplechase&lt;br /&gt;some other times, &lt;br /&gt;i believe, &lt;br /&gt;it is more like a marathon&lt;br /&gt;an exercise of endurance&lt;br /&gt;Let's see who of all of us will get to the winning post with a breath left inside her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pues vaya rollo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How boring though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bostezo, arrascarse, estirarse, arrascarse, volverse a sentar. &lt;br /&gt;Yawn, scratch, stretch, scratch, settle down&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo de: Foto from :) : http://www.flickr.com/photos/vectorafija/3092601771/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-1057202662793360064?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/1057202662793360064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=1057202662793360064' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/1057202662793360064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/1057202662793360064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/11/carreras-de-obstaculos-steeplechase.html' title='Carreras de Obstaculos // Steeplechase'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TOxGkVYbm8I/AAAAAAAAANE/LOl_Z7PjA0U/s72-c/peces%2By%2Bculo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-1354127586233359664</id><published>2010-11-18T07:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-19T12:56:10.805-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yo desde mi punto de vista / I from my point of view</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TObkGKEmTJI/AAAAAAAAAM8/Y5gnWcgOqKU/s1600/CatAndMirror1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 179px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TObkGKEmTJI/AAAAAAAAAM8/Y5gnWcgOqKU/s320/CatAndMirror1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541367185959963794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;El no admitir &lt;br /&gt;que otros nos impongan la visión que tienen de nosotros mismos&lt;br /&gt;implica&lt;br /&gt;rechazar toda critica&lt;br /&gt;y despreciar todo cumplido,&lt;br /&gt;excepto los propios. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;En resumen, vamos, una jodienda. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not allowing&lt;br /&gt;others to impose their view of ourselves&lt;br /&gt;implies&lt;br /&gt;the rejection of every criticims&lt;br /&gt;and despising all compliments as well, &lt;br /&gt;except your own. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summing up, let's see, fucked up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;photo: http://www.philosophyoffreedom.com/files/CatAndMirror1.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-1354127586233359664?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/1354127586233359664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=1354127586233359664' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/1354127586233359664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/1354127586233359664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/11/yo-desde-mi-punto-de-vista-i-from-my.html' title='Yo desde mi punto de vista / I from my point of view'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TObkGKEmTJI/AAAAAAAAAM8/Y5gnWcgOqKU/s72-c/CatAndMirror1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-2410210485252571436</id><published>2010-11-17T15:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-17T15:15:03.668-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No olvidarse / Not to forget yourself</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/09yVnKShCHQ?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/09yVnKShCHQ?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-2410210485252571436?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/2410210485252571436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=2410210485252571436' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/2410210485252571436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/2410210485252571436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/11/no-olvidarse-not-to-forget-yourself.html' title='No olvidarse / Not to forget yourself'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-1514428621475127098</id><published>2010-11-11T08:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-12T02:43:19.152-08:00</updated><title type='text'>El amor que yo soy capaz de darte no lo vas a poder corresponder // The love I'm capable of you won't be able to requite :) - Alex &amp; Rina</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-1514428621475127098?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/1514428621475127098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=1514428621475127098' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/1514428621475127098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/1514428621475127098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/11/el-amor-que-yo-soy-capaz-de-darte-no-lo.html' title='El amor que yo soy capaz de darte no lo vas a poder corresponder // The love I&apos;m capable of you won&apos;t be able to requite :) - Alex &amp; Rina'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-5463144718122432384</id><published>2010-10-29T12:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-29T12:24:42.429-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Este mensaje se autodestruirá como su dueña cada invierno / This message will be destroyed as its owner will be every winter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TMsdml5Y3KI/AAAAAAAAAMk/Cu8HY9kRo8g/s1600/inspectorgadget.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TMsdml5Y3KI/AAAAAAAAAMk/Cu8HY9kRo8g/s320/inspectorgadget.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533549115999837346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se me olvida que cada empezar del invierno me pasa lo mismo y me dan ganas de hacer las cosas mas rápido, por ejemplo, adelantar la hora hoy y no mañana de madrugada. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tend to forget that every beginning of the winter happens the same to me and I feel like doing things faster, for example, putting forward the clock tonight and not tomorrow in the wee hours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me acelero como si tuviera ganas de llegar al final ya. Para que tanto. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seem to press on the gas as if I wanted to get to the end now. What. there. for. what. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/duGbgrv9LRE?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/duGbgrv9LRE?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y por esas coincidenciosas de la vida, me ponen la misma banda sonora que hace 6 años, pero hoy suena como rayada, gentes diferentes, como si el mundo alrededor también hiciera los mismos giros. Y los buenos amigos, ya me dijeron esa primera vez que lo dejará, que me tapará los oídos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And by those coincidenthings of life, they put on the same soundtrack of six years ago, but today it sounds a bit skipping and slow, different people, as if the world around were also on the same loops. And my good friends already told me that first time that I should quit it, that I should cover my ears. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TMseWMZP6KI/AAAAAAAAAMs/84DrjzAjHzU/s1600/parque-tematicos.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TMseWMZP6KI/AAAAAAAAAMs/84DrjzAjHzU/s320/parque-tematicos.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533549933787867298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y no se que hacer, la verdá, si agarrarme fuerte y quedarme dentro de este giro - Autogiro - o si soltarme del todo y salir volando quien sabe hasta que cielos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I don't know what to do, truly, if to hold on tight and stay inside this loop - self-loop (Autogiro) - or if I should let go completely and zoom flying out who know to which skies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nunca me hicieron mucha gracia las ferias. Y menos en las que en el carricoche, sólo cabe una persona. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never liked fairs a lot. And least of all, those in which you can only fit one person in the car. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TMsfYeuP9dI/AAAAAAAAAM0/GxUIqSuFBgI/s1600/cow-sidecar.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 315px; height: 298px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TMsfYeuP9dI/AAAAAAAAAM0/GxUIqSuFBgI/s320/cow-sidecar.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533551072579155410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-5463144718122432384?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/5463144718122432384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=5463144718122432384' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5463144718122432384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5463144718122432384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/10/este-mensaje-se-autodestruira-como-su.html' title='Este mensaje se autodestruirá como su dueña cada invierno / This message will be destroyed as its owner will be every winter'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TMsdml5Y3KI/AAAAAAAAAMk/Cu8HY9kRo8g/s72-c/inspectorgadget.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-7861714892846143329</id><published>2010-10-24T09:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-24T09:03:29.703-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a lo mejor asi ya aprenden a decirlo bien // maybe in this way they know how to say it well finally</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nMmjCD2Rs24?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nMmjCD2Rs24?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-7861714892846143329?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/7861714892846143329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=7861714892846143329' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7861714892846143329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7861714892846143329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/10/lo-mejor-asi-ya-aprenden-decirlo-bien.html' title='a lo mejor asi ya aprenden a decirlo bien // maybe in this way they know how to say it well finally'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-5654732520348903494</id><published>2010-10-13T15:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-13T15:41:33.814-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Message that was sent to my friends after the pub last night / el mensaje que fue enviado a mis amigos despues del pub ayer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TLY1mA_i1YI/AAAAAAAAAMc/LfMdwh6Xcls/s1600/tonta_bote_web.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 210px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TLY1mA_i1YI/AAAAAAAAAMc/LfMdwh6Xcls/s320/tonta_bote_web.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527664519861687682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Con amigos como vosotros ya se puede.&lt;br /&gt;With friends like you, one can. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hasta a mi que se me dan de miedo las palabras,  me está costando desanudarlas de la garganta según voy deshaciendo los paquetes:&lt;br /&gt;Even when I have a way with words, it's not easy to untie them from my throat as I'm untying the parcels:&lt;br /&gt; la manta que me calienta los piecillos ahora, &lt;br /&gt;the blanket warming up my feet now, &lt;br /&gt;las diferentes piecitas de altar (el yantra, los papelillos, los pendientes, los jabones, la postal), &lt;br /&gt;the different little pieces for my altar (the yantra, the little papers, the ear rings, the soaps, the postcard...)&lt;br /&gt;el peaso de sexy bra que luciré a quien se deje,&lt;br /&gt;The super sexy bra that I will show up to whomever lets me, &lt;br /&gt; el dibujo que me va a hacer reir por los siglos de los siglos,&lt;br /&gt;the drawing that will make me laugh per secula seculorum, &lt;br /&gt; todo, todo. y más mucho más que los regalos. &lt;br /&gt;everything, all of it, and much more than the gifts...&lt;br /&gt;que no quiere salir. &lt;br /&gt;that does not want to come out... &lt;br /&gt;así que doy vueltas como Gertrude Stein o como un cobaya.&lt;br /&gt;so I'll spin the wheel like G. S. or like a hamster. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Así que me he bajado a darle el beso de buenas noches a Abundio que estaba ya en su caja soñando sueños de gato y antes de soñar sueños de humana yo &lt;br /&gt;So I have gone downstairs to kiss Abundio good night, who was already in his box dreaming cat dreams and before I dream human dreams myself &lt;br /&gt;(aunque igual esta noche prefiero soñar sueños de gato)&lt;br /&gt;(even though maybe tonight I'd rather dream cat dreams&lt;br /&gt; no puedo dormirme sin deciros que me habéis calentado el corazón, los pulmones, el hogar ardiente en el medio del alma y que eso no tiene precio, ni siquiera estas gracias serán suficientes. &lt;br /&gt;I can't sleep without saying that you have warmed up my heart, my lungs, the flaming hearth in the middle of my soul and that is priceless, not even this gratitude will suffice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Ya encontraré yo - y el universo - formas de devolveros los detalles con creces.&lt;br /&gt;I will find - and the universe will too - ways to give you back the little things with abundance. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Gracias por hacerme el amor un poco más grande.Felicidades por ser quienes sois.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for making my love a little larger :). Congratulations on being who ye are.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-5654732520348903494?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/5654732520348903494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=5654732520348903494' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5654732520348903494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5654732520348903494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/10/message-that-was-sent-to-my-friends.html' title='Message that was sent to my friends after the pub last night / el mensaje que fue enviado a mis amigos despues del pub ayer'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TLY1mA_i1YI/AAAAAAAAAMc/LfMdwh6Xcls/s72-c/tonta_bote_web.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-4735761293447362006</id><published>2010-10-06T23:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-06T23:47:40.854-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Delusion/Desilusión</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VI2GnTbLTG4?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VI2GnTbLTG4?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-4735761293447362006?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/4735761293447362006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=4735761293447362006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/4735761293447362006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/4735761293447362006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/10/delusiondesilusion.html' title='Delusion/Desilusión'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-1057635160208640257</id><published>2010-09-29T00:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-29T00:38:43.934-07:00</updated><title type='text'>he's coming home on friday // se viene a casa el viernes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TKLsdJKoELI/AAAAAAAAAMU/MOit8WiQsCc/s1600/61261_488758181832_639841832_6659734_485174_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TKLsdJKoELI/AAAAAAAAAMU/MOit8WiQsCc/s320/61261_488758181832_639841832_6659734_485174_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522236078530498738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-1057635160208640257?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/1057635160208640257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=1057635160208640257' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/1057635160208640257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/1057635160208640257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/09/hes-coming-home-on-friday-se-viene-casa.html' title='he&apos;s coming home on friday // se viene a casa el viernes'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TKLsdJKoELI/AAAAAAAAAMU/MOit8WiQsCc/s72-c/61261_488758181832_639841832_6659734_485174_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-7311433454298425766</id><published>2010-09-23T00:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-23T01:43:00.886-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Autumnal Equinox // El equinocio de Otoño</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TJsS-QBL8sI/AAAAAAAAAMM/0FhH-8a8UMs/s1600/autumnalequinox.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 202px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TJsS-QBL8sI/AAAAAAAAAMM/0FhH-8a8UMs/s320/autumnalequinox.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520026628933808834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A veces no me queda duda de que es kármico esto de tener semanas así en que pasa todo. Y nada queda. &lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I have no doubt that it's karmic, this having a week like this in which everything happens. Nothing remains. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Como cuando te despiertas pensando en un sueño y otro pensamiento tangente te distrae y cuando quieres volver al sueño se ha perdido en la niebla de la memoria. &lt;br /&gt;Same as when you wake up thinking about a dream and another tangential thought distracts you and when you wanna go back to the dream, it's gone in the midst of our memory. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No sé, me sigue gustando escuchar verdades de otros, pasear de la mano de mi bici junto a los amigos y enfadarme por el mal causado a los demás - aunque me apunte que deba ir quitándome este vicio feo de colar mi opinión - que es lo que es, mera opinión - de los demás en los otros. &lt;br /&gt;I don't know, I still like listening to truths from other people, walking hand by hand with my bike beside a friend and getting angry because of the 'evil' caused to others - even though I am making a note to myself that I should start giving up this ugly addiction of sneaking my opinion - which is that and nothing else: an opinion - about others to the rest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trabalenguas. &lt;br /&gt;Tonguetwisters. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asi que mientras me preparo para la venida de mi gato, el primero y estoy segura que no será el último, aunque ojalá vivamos felices y comamos vegetariano :), llega el otoño del 2010, como si tal cosa. &lt;br /&gt;So meanwhile I get ready for the coming of my kitten, the first and i'm sure he won't be the last, even though I wish we live happily in a vegetarian everafter, the Autumn 2010 arrives as if nothing matters. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;imagen de: http://www.glyphweb.com/esky/_images/diagrams/autumnalequinox.gif&lt;br /&gt;image from: http://www.glyphweb.com/esky/_images/diagrams/autumnalequinox.gif&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-7311433454298425766?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/7311433454298425766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=7311433454298425766' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7311433454298425766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7311433454298425766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/09/autumnal-equinox-el-equinocio-de-otono.html' title='Autumnal Equinox // El equinocio de Otoño'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TJsS-QBL8sI/AAAAAAAAAMM/0FhH-8a8UMs/s72-c/autumnalequinox.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-7840634604224133478</id><published>2010-09-15T13:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-19T00:27:15.597-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wish List 2 - Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TJEmnaUB1WI/AAAAAAAAAME/X2s69rrrNtg/s1600/happy_unbirthday_to_me_tshirt-p235238321131537474333e_400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TJEmnaUB1WI/AAAAAAAAAME/X2s69rrrNtg/s320/happy_unbirthday_to_me_tshirt-p235238321131537474333e_400.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5517233477025650018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOY SE LO VOY A PONER FACIL AL UNIVERSO Y A TODOS AQUELLOS QUE NO ME CONOCEN TANTO&lt;br /&gt;TODAY I'M GONNA MAKE IT EASY FOR THE UNIVERSE AND TALL THOSE THAT DON'T KNOW ME THAT MUCH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THIS IS MY WISH LIST FOR THIS BIRTHDAY/ ESTA ES MI LISTA DE LOS DESEOS PARA ESTE CUMPLEAÑOS:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- An electric piano - Un piano electrico. - Seemingly Yamaha has them for 180 E. Parece que Yamaha los tiene por 180 euros.  &lt;br /&gt;- Good environment at work (for everybody) // un buen ambiente en el trabajo (para todos)&lt;br /&gt;- A nice walk somewhere // un buen paseo en alguna parte&lt;br /&gt;- Fair distribution of earth's wealth // distribucion justa de la riqueza de la tierra&lt;br /&gt;- Health // Salud &lt;br /&gt;- A partner to love, to be loved by, to love with, really. // un compa al que querer, que me quiera, que quiera conmigo, en realidad. &lt;br /&gt;- A chunk of their imagination and creativity// un cacho de su imaginación y creatividad&lt;br /&gt;- 0 waste // basura 0&lt;br /&gt;- a good yummy story // un cuento rico riquisimo&lt;br /&gt;- A trip with or without movement somewhere // un viaje con o sin movimiento a alguna parte&lt;br /&gt;- A letter - i love letters // una carta - me encantan las cartas. &lt;br /&gt;- Cuadernos de Parapapel // Notebooks from 'Parapapel'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hala! Ya está dicho!&lt;br /&gt;There you go! Said!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-7840634604224133478?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/7840634604224133478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=7840634604224133478' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7840634604224133478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7840634604224133478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/09/wish-list-2-again.html' title='Wish List 2 - Again'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TJEmnaUB1WI/AAAAAAAAAME/X2s69rrrNtg/s72-c/happy_unbirthday_to_me_tshirt-p235238321131537474333e_400.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-2637605505054654380</id><published>2010-09-08T14:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-08T14:17:23.702-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Equivalent songs / Canciones Equi-Valientes</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/X0MSJbM0VPU?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/X0MSJbM0VPU?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-2637605505054654380?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/2637605505054654380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=2637605505054654380' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/2637605505054654380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/2637605505054654380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/09/equivalent-songs-canciones-equi.html' title='Equivalent songs / Canciones Equi-Valientes'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-7356809996936054053</id><published>2010-09-03T05:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-03T05:04:15.032-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Va de canciones // Another serving of song</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mBLLIftWqfQ?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mBLLIftWqfQ?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-7356809996936054053?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/7356809996936054053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=7356809996936054053' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7356809996936054053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7356809996936054053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/09/va-de-canciones-another-serving-of-song.html' title='Va de canciones // Another serving of song'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-8511081117824350053</id><published>2010-08-24T03:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-24T03:10:37.734-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wikipedic Editions / Ediciones wikipédicas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/THOagZESAwI/AAAAAAAAAL0/325gvTIUbZQ/s1600/Humhrt2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 173px; height: 224px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/THOagZESAwI/AAAAAAAAAL0/325gvTIUbZQ/s320/Humhrt2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508916650479584002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In mammals, the function of the right side of YOUR heart is to collect de-oxygenated blood, in the right atrium, from the body (via superior and inferior vena cavae) and pump it, through the tricuspid valve, via the right ventricle, into YOUR lungs (pulmonary circulation) so that carbon dioxide can be dropped off and oxygen picked up (gas exchange). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This happens through the passive process of diffusion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The left side collects oxygenated blood from the lungs into the left atrium. From the left atrium the blood moves to the left ventricle, through the bicuspid valve, which pumps it out to YOUR body. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TU corazón es un órgano musculoso hueco cuya función es bombear la sangre a través de los vasos sanguíneos de TU organismo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funcionalmente, se divide en dos partes no separadas: la superior o tabique interauricular, y la inferior o tabique interventricular. Este último es especialmente importante, ya que por él discurre el fascículo de His, que permite llevar el impulso electrico a las partes más bajas de TU corazón.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coraz%C3%B3n&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EL PRONOMBRE es importantisimo. &lt;br /&gt;por lo menos a mi de vez en cuando se me olvida que mi corazon no es para la sangre de los demas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pronoun is most important. &lt;br /&gt;at least i forget from time to time that my heart is not for the blood of others.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-8511081117824350053?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/8511081117824350053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=8511081117824350053' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/8511081117824350053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/8511081117824350053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/08/wikipedic-editions-ediciones.html' title='Wikipedic Editions / Ediciones wikipédicas'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/THOagZESAwI/AAAAAAAAAL0/325gvTIUbZQ/s72-c/Humhrt2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-4263233356976933804</id><published>2010-08-18T03:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-18T03:47:29.787-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New poetry // Nueva poesia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TGu6PJZnKyI/AAAAAAAAALs/9rgiCxfciMA/s1600/GEDC0909.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TGu6PJZnKyI/AAAAAAAAALs/9rgiCxfciMA/s320/GEDC0909.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506699738774711074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Negative Victorian, really&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Negativo victoriano, claro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m used to looking at the spotlight between the ears of the strangers standing in front of me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suelo mirar el foco entre las orejas de extraños de pie delante de mí&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I imagine there is a line of (titillating pixels&lt;br /&gt;like statics or heat waves,&lt;br /&gt;axling ear drum to ear drum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoy me imagino que hay una linea de pixeles temblando&lt;br /&gt;como electricidad estática o ondas de calor&lt;br /&gt;que unen el tímpano con el tímpano por el eje &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that’s my frame, &lt;br /&gt;always within negative profiles, &lt;br /&gt;interfering, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y ese es mi marco, &lt;br /&gt;siempre entre perfiles negativos, &lt;br /&gt;interferencias, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;invisible enough, &lt;br /&gt;between the cracks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lo suficientemente invisible, &lt;br /&gt;por entre las rendijas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-4263233356976933804?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/4263233356976933804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=4263233356976933804' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/4263233356976933804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/4263233356976933804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/08/new-poetry-nueva-poesia.html' title='New poetry // Nueva poesia'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TGu6PJZnKyI/AAAAAAAAALs/9rgiCxfciMA/s72-c/GEDC0909.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-3554981282817858090</id><published>2010-08-13T21:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-13T21:33:02.076-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Still soundtracking wordless // Todavia con bandas sonoras sin palabras</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oCEgsqmz_Bw?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oCEgsqmz_Bw?fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-3554981282817858090?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/3554981282817858090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=3554981282817858090' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/3554981282817858090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/3554981282817858090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/08/still-soundtracking-wordless-todavia.html' title='Still soundtracking wordless // Todavia con bandas sonoras sin palabras'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-5491932961332953005</id><published>2010-08-03T11:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-03T11:17:22.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SACRIFICE // SACRIFICIOS</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/h2UTwrmGO7Q&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/h2UTwrmGO7Q&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-5491932961332953005?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/5491932961332953005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=5491932961332953005' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5491932961332953005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5491932961332953005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/08/sacrifice-sacrificios.html' title='SACRIFICE // SACRIFICIOS'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-6926681830565324332</id><published>2010-07-28T01:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-28T01:08:41.404-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I like it... trouble is I don't trust kids that speak like adults // Me gusta... el problema es que no me gustan los niños que hablan como adultos</title><content type='html'>http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/adora_svitak.html&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-6926681830565324332?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/6926681830565324332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=6926681830565324332' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/6926681830565324332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/6926681830565324332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-like-it-trouble-is-i-dont-trust-kids.html' title='I like it... trouble is I don&apos;t trust kids that speak like adults // Me gusta... el problema es que no me gustan los niños que hablan como adultos'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-5114691782982458993</id><published>2010-07-19T17:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-19T17:45:54.110-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time for bed because tomorrow you gotta not sleep at all to catch a bus// A la cama que mañana hay que quedarse hasta las tantas pa coger un autobus</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TETxqfisbAI/AAAAAAAAALk/IVubLZMvKHs/s1600/cerrado_vacaciones.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TETxqfisbAI/AAAAAAAAALk/IVubLZMvKHs/s320/cerrado_vacaciones.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495783157622664194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://legnita.files.wordpress.com/2006/08/cerrado_vacaciones.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-5114691782982458993?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/5114691782982458993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=5114691782982458993' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5114691782982458993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5114691782982458993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/07/time-for-bed-because-tomorrow-you-gotta.html' title='Time for bed because tomorrow you gotta not sleep at all to catch a bus// A la cama que mañana hay que quedarse hasta las tantas pa coger un autobus'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TETxqfisbAI/AAAAAAAAALk/IVubLZMvKHs/s72-c/cerrado_vacaciones.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-9186455121770959377</id><published>2010-07-12T06:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-12T06:10:42.532-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I WANNA LIVE IN A WORLD LIKE THIS // QUIERO VIVIR EN UN MUNDO ASI</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TDsURNSf0dI/AAAAAAAAALc/aRx4I6pgfNQ/s1600/34841_413668949110_642554110_4338756_6145250_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 70px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TDsURNSf0dI/AAAAAAAAALc/aRx4I6pgfNQ/s320/34841_413668949110_642554110_4338756_6145250_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493006456366027218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-9186455121770959377?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/9186455121770959377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=9186455121770959377' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/9186455121770959377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/9186455121770959377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-wanna-live-in-world-like-this-quiero.html' title='I WANNA LIVE IN A WORLD LIKE THIS // QUIERO VIVIR EN UN MUNDO ASI'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TDsURNSf0dI/AAAAAAAAALc/aRx4I6pgfNQ/s72-c/34841_413668949110_642554110_4338756_6145250_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-6189167037367977896</id><published>2010-07-07T07:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-07T07:35:16.012-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Typewriter // maquina de escribir</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TDSQgsdalfI/AAAAAAAAALU/CTF1ewGqzf4/s1600/Photo+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 269px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TDSQgsdalfI/AAAAAAAAALU/CTF1ewGqzf4/s320/Photo+1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491172737036228082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://site.xavier.edu/polt/typewriters/tw-history.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Máquina_de_escribir&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-6189167037367977896?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/6189167037367977896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=6189167037367977896' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/6189167037367977896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/6189167037367977896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/07/typewriter-maquina-de-escribir.html' title='Typewriter // maquina de escribir'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TDSQgsdalfI/AAAAAAAAALU/CTF1ewGqzf4/s72-c/Photo+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-5156675028291577935</id><published>2010-07-04T04:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-04T04:26:16.287-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And they lived happily ever after // y fueron felices y comieron perdices</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TDBvzRTICaI/AAAAAAAAALM/D0PeXISoRng/s1600/corpsebride-looking.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 296px; height: 261px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TDBvzRTICaI/AAAAAAAAALM/D0PeXISoRng/s320/corpsebride-looking.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490010872372267426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;en español augura otro final:&lt;br /&gt;y acabaron el uno del otro hasta las narices. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in Spanish it has a sense of foreboding (because it rimes with:)&lt;br /&gt;they ended up really fed up with each other. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://weddingwhirlwind.files.wordpress.com/2008/03/corpsebride-looking.gif (Photo)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-5156675028291577935?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/5156675028291577935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=5156675028291577935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5156675028291577935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5156675028291577935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/07/and-they-lived-happily-ever-after-y.html' title='And they lived happily ever after // y fueron felices y comieron perdices'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TDBvzRTICaI/AAAAAAAAALM/D0PeXISoRng/s72-c/corpsebride-looking.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-5331232142589213541</id><published>2010-06-29T15:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T15:27:38.568-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To the city that never sinks / a la ciudad que nunca se hunde</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TCpzVQHIYwI/AAAAAAAAALE/Vkrp1vpZzEg/s1600/detail-from-buttss-view-of-cork-in-1760.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 281px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TCpzVQHIYwI/AAAAAAAAALE/Vkrp1vpZzEg/s320/detail-from-buttss-view-of-cork-in-1760.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488325904843694850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo taken from: http://www.askaboutireland.ie/aai-files/assets/libraries/cork-city-library/reading-room/physical-landscape/detail-from-buttss-view-of-cork-in-1760.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-5331232142589213541?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/5331232142589213541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=5331232142589213541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5331232142589213541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5331232142589213541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/06/to-city-that-never-sinks-la-ciudad-que.html' title='To the city that never sinks / a la ciudad que nunca se hunde'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TCpzVQHIYwI/AAAAAAAAALE/Vkrp1vpZzEg/s72-c/detail-from-buttss-view-of-cork-in-1760.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-6074787617239919669</id><published>2010-06-22T04:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T05:00:13.358-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Glass Ton Bury /// Cristal Tonelada Enterrar (una ciudad en Inglaterra)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TCClhigK-AI/AAAAAAAAAK8/vO5SVVOsUG0/s1600/GEDC0796.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 74px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TCClhigK-AI/AAAAAAAAAK8/vO5SVVOsUG0/s320/GEDC0796.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485566341753272322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dejarse llevar porque ves un vuelo barato tiene consecuencias. Y las consecuencias no se pagan a veces, se adapta uno a ellas. Sea el albergue como sea hay oportunidad de descansar y conocer a gente, dejarse llevar como cuando eramos mas peques y solo importaba el calor, la pisti, los perros y las campanas de fuera. Me ha gustado oir el ruido de las conversaciones de la gente en la calle por la rendija de la ventana que no se podia abrir - y cuando nos cambiamos de habitacion, la morada es la mejor - por la rendija de la ventana abierta a los tejados. a lo mejor resulta que Villanubla tambien era magico. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De alguna manera necesitamos estos pulmones de oxigeno, aunque nada mas sea como nos gusta la soledad y el campo y el saltar vallas de piedra y las hortigas y subir colinas que parecen montañas y creernos que hay magia aunque el mundo haga muecas y todo el mundo este mas loco que una cabra. cabra. me gustan las cabras. y habia muchas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;estar. y ser en el momento pero ser en el futuro como expandirse sin dejar de hacer pie es la mejor manera de expresarlo. ganar una tranquilidad sin futuro. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me parece relevante que un mundo tan de 'harrypotter' (como sera Salem, dios mio!) se me relacione en la cabeza con Villanubla que tiene tanta poca magia a simple vista en mi memoria. y mas relevante aun si cabe que un sitio que alberga tanta gente con energias raras de las que no me gustan de principio pero que al final somos todos iguales. Un suponer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Letting yourself go because you find a cheap flight has consequences. and consequences sometimes are free of charge, you adapt to them. whatever the hostel may be like, there are always opportunities to rest and meet people, letting go of ourselves as when we were smaller and the only thing that mattered was the heat, the swimming pool, the dogs and the bells outside. i have enjoyed listening to the noise of conversations of people in the streets through the window cracks that couldn't be opened - and when we changed rooms, purple is the best - through the window opening towards the roofts, maybe Villanubla afterall was magical too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;somehow we need these oxygen lungs, even if it is just that we like solitude and fields and jumping over stone fences and nettles and climbing hills that seem like mountains and believe that there is magic although the whole world makes faces and the whole world is crazier than a goat. a goat. i like goats. and there were loats. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;being there. and being in the moment but being in the future as if expanding without grabbing the ground is the best way of expressing it now, to earn a tranquillity without future. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it seems relevant to me that a world so much of harrypotter (i wonder what Salem is like my goodness!) gets associated in my mind with Villanubla that bears so little magic at first sight in my memory, and more relevant perhaps that a place that holds so many people with weird energies of the kind I don't like at first but in the end, we are all the same. Supposing that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-6074787617239919669?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/6074787617239919669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=6074787617239919669' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/6074787617239919669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/6074787617239919669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/06/glass-ton-bury-cristal-tonelada.html' title='Glass Ton Bury /// Cristal Tonelada Enterrar (una ciudad en Inglaterra)'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TCClhigK-AI/AAAAAAAAAK8/vO5SVVOsUG0/s72-c/GEDC0796.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-2495139258490443705</id><published>2010-06-15T01:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T02:03:08.005-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Citas Que se quedan / Quotes That Remain</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TBdBaLGP4wI/AAAAAAAAAK0/Wx7q3d5CnKk/s1600/be-strong-live-life-arabic-tattoo-design.png"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 296px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TBdBaLGP4wI/AAAAAAAAAK0/Wx7q3d5CnKk/s320/be-strong-live-life-arabic-tattoo-design.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482922989258269442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If might is right, then love has no place in the world. It may be so, it may be so. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;But I don't have the strength to live in a world like that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si el poder por la fuerza es lo correcto, el amor no tiene lugar en el mundo. Puede que sea así, probablemente sea así. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Pero a mi no me queda valor para vivir en un mundo así.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Photo from: http://arabicgenie.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/10/be-strong-live-life-arabic-tattoo-design.png)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-2495139258490443705?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/2495139258490443705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=2495139258490443705' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/2495139258490443705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/2495139258490443705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/06/citas-que-se-quedan-quotes-that-remain.html' title='Citas Que se quedan / Quotes That Remain'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TBdBaLGP4wI/AAAAAAAAAK0/Wx7q3d5CnKk/s72-c/be-strong-live-life-arabic-tattoo-design.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-3728867277889357201</id><published>2010-06-10T15:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-10T15:32:12.527-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The theory of U // La teoria de U</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TBFnYDnsu2I/AAAAAAAAAKs/-0uNTc02F4U/s1600/ScharmerTheoryU.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TBFnYDnsu2I/AAAAAAAAAKs/-0uNTc02F4U/s320/ScharmerTheoryU.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5481275884472941410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://blogs.salon.com/0002007/images/ScharmerTheoryU.jpg&lt;br /&gt;Y para mas informacion en castellano: &lt;br /&gt;http://www.slideshare.net/javiruiz1/introduccin-teora-u&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-3728867277889357201?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/3728867277889357201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=3728867277889357201' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/3728867277889357201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/3728867277889357201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/06/theory-of-u-la-teoria-de-u.html' title='The theory of U // La teoria de U'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TBFnYDnsu2I/AAAAAAAAAKs/-0uNTc02F4U/s72-c/ScharmerTheoryU.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-8017346595326731528</id><published>2010-06-07T07:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-07T07:34:17.003-07:00</updated><title type='text'>enferma // sick</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TA0DWIWVvwI/AAAAAAAAAKk/TPnAQ7wsFts/s1600/out-sick.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 310px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TA0DWIWVvwI/AAAAAAAAAKk/TPnAQ7wsFts/s320/out-sick.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480040000312950530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://changeonesmind.files.wordpress.com/2009/09/out-sick.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-8017346595326731528?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/8017346595326731528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=8017346595326731528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/8017346595326731528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/8017346595326731528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/06/enferma-sick.html' title='enferma // sick'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TA0DWIWVvwI/AAAAAAAAAKk/TPnAQ7wsFts/s72-c/out-sick.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-7298674699459441548</id><published>2010-05-31T07:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-31T07:48:12.154-07:00</updated><title type='text'>La Seguridad // Safety</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TAPL4n2sWhI/AAAAAAAAAKc/g_oaeh8Ov1c/s1600/safety.png"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 282px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TAPL4n2sWhI/AAAAAAAAAKc/g_oaeh8Ov1c/s320/safety.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477445745444149778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cantando espero...&lt;br /&gt;singing, I shall wait&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6_arbam-Yqc&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-7298674699459441548?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/7298674699459441548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=7298674699459441548' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7298674699459441548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/7298674699459441548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/05/la-seguridad-safety.html' title='La Seguridad // Safety'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/TAPL4n2sWhI/AAAAAAAAAKc/g_oaeh8Ov1c/s72-c/safety.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-5861026723596416846</id><published>2010-05-21T16:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-21T16:30:03.328-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SLEEPING GORGEOUSNESS; A Fairy Tale // El Esplendor Durmiente</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/S_cXYLxbmLI/AAAAAAAAAKU/WjnupjRiDOg/s1600/gorgeous.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/S_cXYLxbmLI/AAAAAAAAAKU/WjnupjRiDOg/s320/gorgeous.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473869576336545970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dare you wake up the beast&lt;br /&gt;atrevete a despertar a la bestia&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-5861026723596416846?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/5861026723596416846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=5861026723596416846' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5861026723596416846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5861026723596416846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/05/sleeping-gorgeousness-fairy-tale-el.html' title='SLEEPING GORGEOUSNESS; A Fairy Tale // El Esplendor Durmiente'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/S_cXYLxbmLI/AAAAAAAAAKU/WjnupjRiDOg/s72-c/gorgeous.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-5868243152209596925</id><published>2010-05-17T15:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T15:32:05.815-07:00</updated><title type='text'>B&amp;W // B&amp;N</title><content type='html'>Guinness and Beamish: black and white. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guinness y Beamish: Blanco y negro. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing I believe is true -- Nada de lo que creo es verdad (Byron Katie). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world of real and unreal, the world of true or false, the world of natural or fake, the both sides of the coin. Head or tails? If I go there will be trouble and if I stay it'll be double. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EL mundo de lo real e irreal, el mundo de lo verdadero o falso, el mundo de lo natural y lo artificial, las dos caras de la moneda. Cara o cruz? Si me voy habra problemas, y si me quedo aun los habra mas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both extremes pulling in different directions until the whole thing starts to spin. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Los dos extremos tirando en diferentes direcciones hasta que todo empieza a dar vueltas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the spiral is colourful, much more colourful than ever imagined. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;y la espiral es colorida, mucho mas colorida de lo imaginable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Claro. Clearly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Faltaría mas. Of course. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/S_HCXTcMRFI/AAAAAAAAAKM/wtIIHdZCEW4/s1600/black-and-white.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/S_HCXTcMRFI/AAAAAAAAAKM/wtIIHdZCEW4/s320/black-and-white.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472368727843161170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photo from: Foto de: &lt;br /&gt;http://www.designerprint.co.uk/images/digital/larger/black-and-white.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-5868243152209596925?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/5868243152209596925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=5868243152209596925' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5868243152209596925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/5868243152209596925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/05/b-b.html' title='B&amp;W // B&amp;N'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/S_HCXTcMRFI/AAAAAAAAAKM/wtIIHdZCEW4/s72-c/black-and-white.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-3084509419081132359</id><published>2010-05-10T14:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-10T14:22:33.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not easy to be in love // No es facil estar enamorado</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/S-h5E5u6NBI/AAAAAAAAAKE/01VErXQNTuU/s1600/Me-Myself-and-Eye.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/S-h5E5u6NBI/AAAAAAAAAKE/01VErXQNTuU/s320/Me-Myself-and-Eye.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469754872565478418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For once, you tend to forget that being like this: on your own, complete was all right. I mean, you were calm in it. You enjoyed thinking about yourself and your boundaries. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Por ejemplo, tiendes a olvidarte de que estar asi: por tu cuenta, completo estaba bien. Quiero decir, estabas tranquila asi. Disfrutabas pensando en ti misma y en tus fronteras. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now those boundaries are blurry, osmotic and there is a switch in your brain, that every time it goes to 'idle' brings your beloved up: I wonder what he's doing, if he's thinking of me, if he went here or came there, you sigh, his image floats in the middle of your forehead when you unfocus your attention in your daily tasks. Even when you are with friends, his image tends to curtain on the attention they deserve, from time to time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahora esas fronteras estan difuminadas, osmoticas y hay un interruptor en tu cerebro, que cada vez que se pone en 'punto muerto' te trae a tu enamorado: me pregunto que andara haciendo, si esta pensando en mi, si fue aqui o vino alli, suspiras, su imagen flota en el medio de tu frente cuando desconcentras tu atencion en las tareas diarias. Incluso cuando estas con los amigos, su imagen tiende a bajar como un telon sobre la atencion que se merecen, de vez en cuando. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And trouble is we have mobile phones now. Those little brain extensions that communicate very quickly whatever we are feeling, that reach the person immediately, erasing the 'undesirable' nonverbals, less polishable, less controllable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y el problema es que tenemos moviles ahora. Esas extensionitas cerebrales que comunican muy rapido lo que sea que sentimos, que llegan a la persona al momento, borrando lo no verbal menos deseable, menos pulible, menos controlable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so it requires restraint to be here and now, with me, alone and celebrate it. To even talk about it feels like i'm pulling a ball of wool out of my stomach through my mouth. So yes, I want to undo this fake need, to reach out, this need to need... because I feel it's toxic. Or at least intoxicating. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y asi requiere cierto dominio estar aqui y ahora, conmigo, sola y celebrarlo. Incluso hablar de ello se siente como si me estuviera sacando un ovillo del estomago por la boca. Asi que si, quiero deshacer esta necesidad falsa de alcanzar, esta necesidad de necesitar... porque siento que es toxica. Por lo menos intoxicante. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna need. &lt;br /&gt;No quiero necesitar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I know deep down the truth. &lt;br /&gt;Porque ya se la verdad de verdad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna want. &lt;br /&gt;Quiero querer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to be able to do that, I wanna be inside of me, me. &lt;br /&gt;Y para poder hacer eso, quiero estar/ser dentro de mi, yo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe afterall, the rabbit hole is in here. &lt;br /&gt;Quizas al final, la madriguera esta aqui dentro. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanna love. Much better. &lt;br /&gt;Quiero querer. Mucho mejor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Foto de: http://www.itsablackthang.com/images/AnthonyArmstrong/Me-Myself-and-Eye.jpg&lt;br /&gt;Photograph by: &lt;br /&gt;http://www.itsablackthang.com/images/AnthonyArmstrong/Me-Myself-and-Eye.jpg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-3084509419081132359?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/3084509419081132359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=3084509419081132359' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/3084509419081132359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/3084509419081132359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/05/not-easy-to-be-in-love-no-es-facil.html' title='Not easy to be in love // No es facil estar enamorado'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/S-h5E5u6NBI/AAAAAAAAAKE/01VErXQNTuU/s72-c/Me-Myself-and-Eye.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2889036385775793437.post-1551582641688384063</id><published>2010-05-07T05:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T05:26:30.513-07:00</updated><title type='text'>puzzles</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/S-QGoi03d9I/AAAAAAAAAJ8/vJ3ylGXshVs/s1600/tetris_graphic.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/S-QGoi03d9I/AAAAAAAAAJ8/vJ3ylGXshVs/s320/tetris_graphic.jpeg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5468503141147703250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Puzzles how some people slid through the membrane of my everyday life&lt;br /&gt;right in&lt;br /&gt;and others simply don't make it. &lt;br /&gt;It's a random luck&lt;br /&gt;a nonsensical world &lt;br /&gt;where white rabbits are always early&lt;br /&gt;and queens beheaded. &lt;br /&gt;Does it happen 2u2, I wonder, who, in your everyday life, wins this backwards race?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me rompe la cabeza como algunos se cuelan por la membrana de mi vida diaria&lt;br /&gt;hasta dentro&lt;br /&gt;y otros simplemente no.&lt;br /&gt;Es una suerte azarosa&lt;br /&gt;un mundo sinsentido&lt;br /&gt;donde los conejos blancos siempre llegan pronto&lt;br /&gt;y a las reinas se le corta la cabeza.&lt;br /&gt;Te pasa a ti tambien, me pregunto, quien, en tu vida diaria, gana esta carrera de cangrejos?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2889036385775793437-1551582641688384063?l=irmapilar.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/feeds/1551582641688384063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2889036385775793437&amp;postID=1551582641688384063' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/1551582641688384063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2889036385775793437/posts/default/1551582641688384063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://irmapilar.blogspot.com/2010/05/puzzles.html' title='puzzles'/><author><name>Pi</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07074020577985884423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/STqY9EJcMSI/AAAAAAAAAA4/Xv1NYYJEs1A/S220/Photo+4.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_do5HGpRNgWQ/S-QGoi03d9I/AAAAAAAAAJ8/vJ3ylGXshVs/s72-c/tetris_graphic.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
