Posted by Raul on March 11, 2011
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Checking the hard drive of my computer to see what posts I’ve been working on, and to complete some of them for future publishing, I’ve come to realize there are so many waiting to see the daylight. After a quick count, I noticed there are more than one hundred!
There are six folders: Entertainment (2); Fiction (29); Memories (0); Projections (1); Thoughts (62); and Uncategorized (8). -The six categories I have in this blog. The biggest numbers are in Fiction and Thoughts, while the smallest (0) is in the Memories folder, which is of no surprise, considering my terrible memory 
Every time an idea comes to mind I write whatever comes out and place the “project” in the appropriate folder, ready to be completed when there’s more time available. Unfortunately, the original idea seems to vanish completely when I try to retake the post to complete it.
Perhaps the worst part is that ideas come to mind in the most “inappropriate” circumstances, like when driving in my delivery shift, when in the shower, etc. In some instances it is of no problem to just grab a piece of paper and write down the name of the post, the general idea, and some quick notes to help the future writing. But when the time comes to actually take the task of completing the posts (a couple of days later), my mind either becomes blank, or I can’t see the reason or logic of the original idea, making worthless the whole point.
I’ve tried (when possible) not to stop writing when the idea comes around, and simply postpone whatever I was doing at the time, but usually there’ll be some research involved, and the time required to complete the whole process force me to still leave the post for future complexion.
The result is more than one hundred posts waiting and nothing ready to publish.
-Does it happen to you?
-What procedure do you use to write those ideas that cannot be completed at once?
-How do you organize your writings in your computer?
Let me know in the comment section.
Raul
Posted by Raul on December 23, 2010
She had a smile and bright eyes when walking the trail by my side. We didn’t know where we would end up…we just walked the trail with a faint idea of the journey, and some vague plans for the next steps and the days ahead.
The warm breeze of December in the south hemisphere gave the hopes for the unknown, while the holding hands the reassurance for the times to come.
But winter is always ahead, and although we did know, we kept the smile while feeling the breeze in our young faces, walking the path together to the horizon always farther away on the road.
And winter did come.
Then the trail turned from the colored flowers all around to the brownish land of sadness at fall; and the sun changed to a reddish color for the winter and snow ahead. So the walking became hard with the cold wind in the face and the snow on the ground; feeling how the warm days of summer went away to be replaced by the harsh times of the season that had to be gone through.
Did we have to? And the thoughts of going back the trail to the beginning started to take home. Yet the long distance already traveled and the thoughts of going back cold, tired and sad through the same place that was walked warm and with a smile before…
The beginning of the trail and the horizon at the other end, they both seemed the same. We where standing there, trying to find a reason to keep going.
Then the little bird…the unimaginable find in the middle of nowhere; almost buried in the snow, looking at us, waiting to take it with us in our journey; to protect it and grow it as our treasure for the years to come.
So one hand holding the little bird while another found the excuse to touch the now stranger other hand once again. The excuse of the little bird; the responsibility of taking care of it; helping it grow as a given task; while walking the path to nowhere; to the setting sun.
And the little bird did grow!
Protecting it with our cold hands, together from the wind and the snow, just to find later we couldn’t let it go. The growing little bird became the element that held us together while walking the trail without aim, hoping for the warm sun to come back once again in the sky.
Stopping for a moment to look back and find the long trail walked now, and the horizon at the other end, with the promise of spring ahead and warmer days to keep going in the journey started so long ago.
And while the little bird has grown and trying its wings to fly on its own, the sun of spring announces its return and the colored flowers make the promise of a wonderful path to walk once more.
So now the thoughts of letting the once little bird fly on its own, give us the memories of the times when we started this trail so long ago. The two of us, knowing now there’ll be a bird flying somewhere; happily finding his own path and flying through the seasons of life and the fields of love.
While we, confused by the changes ahead, continue to walk this trail, looking at the horizon, knowing spring is coming with its colored flowers in the field, to be followed by the warm breeze of summer, to be back at the beginning while reaching the end of the road.
Raul
Posted by Raul on August 16, 2010
When I was about 16 years old I was living in a different city than my parents and used to go visit them on weekends.
One Saturday morning, when arriving at my parent’s house, I found my father ready to go hunting with a shotgun, he invited me to go with him and I accepted because, at the side of spending some time together, I was curious about the firearm.
After walking for a couple of minutes my father asked me if I wanted to give a try to the gun and I accepted; how tempting to hold the gun, aim at something and pull the trigger to see and feel it in action!
With the gun in my hands I looked around to find a target and saw a small bird standing in a high, wooden pole, so I aimed to the little bird and pulled the trigger.
The small bird didn’t fly with the sound of the firearm, didn’t even start to flap its wings, it simply fell off to the ground without any movement, lifeless, dead.
While falling, even before it hit the ground, I was already feeling remorse for killing it. It was doing nothing, just standing there, being, alive, but because I didn’t think ahead of the consequences, I just aimed and shot, the little creature ceased to exist.
I felt really bad!
I remember giving the gun back to my father and telling him that I would never hold a firearm in my hands again. We walked back to his house in complete silence and had never talked about that situation.
I don’t know what my father’s feelings were at that moment and I don’t know if he knew what my feeling were, but I believe it wasn’t important then and is not today; nothing changed between us.
I don’t know if he remembers that moment but I do, and decide to write about it here in my blog.
More than 30 years have gone by and I kept my word, I’ve never held another gun in my hands and I still don’t like them.
Because of that moment I had the opportunity to think about people and guns and come to the conclusion that, not only guns are for destruction, but also how fragile life can be and how important is to protect it.
I was a 16 years old kid, curious about how a firearm would feel when fired and by making a stupid mistake I learned to respect life, anticipate consequences and stay away from guns.
Raul
Posted by Raul on December 30, 2009
Please don’t cry! It is so strange to see you crying without the chance to give you a hug and hold you for a while, not being able to wipe your tears and tell you something silly to make you laugh.
And I’m seating here looking at you, wanting to touch you, hold your hand and go for a walk at the park just the same as we always used to do. Walk without aim while looking around the trees and birds and talking about anything that might come to mind at the moment; have a good laugh after a silly joke came out of nowhere.
I remember all the years together; the hopes, the fights, the plans and the simple things that made out our time as a couple. So many times becoming hell and wanting to leave but never did because at the end it is about doing this long trip that is life together, no matter what we encounter, no matter what we have to endure from life, we were always there for each other, even if it was with a hard face.
But then there were also the good times; the projects, the plans, the accomplishments, so many little things that made a big difference in something that wasn’t really important, except for us, like when we completed a small garden in the back yard, or painted the house together. We talked, we proposed, we argued, we agreed, we did and we laughed, then hugging each other we contemplated the end result that most of the time wasn’t what we planned but left us satisfied with the accomplishment of another little improvement of our surroundings.
And then there were the kids; those little monsters that made us worried when they were sick, made us laugh with their ingenious tricks to get something and their jokes while seating at the dining table; every accomplishment they had that made us proud. All the pictures accumulated for years with every event in life; and then they grew up to be themselves and walk their own path, leaving us satisfied yet somehow feeling alone.
So then again it was you and me, learning all from the beginning, learning to be just the two of us, reaching our memories for what we used to do. Playing with leaves by fall and making a snow man in winter, laughing like children in the bodies of old people, looking silly, maybe stupid, I don’t know.
That young, skinny girl I met so long ago that turned into an old woman with gray hair that I must say I still feel attractive in bed, even if you don’t like to see yourself naked in the mirror anymore. I guess is the years together, the many things we lived, enjoyed and endure; the path we walked with just a vague main plan, sometimes just surviving the moment and keep going forward with the hopes of a better tomorrow.
And now here we are, face to face yet so distant, both of us crying wanting to hug yet remaining apart; I’m seating here in front of you, talking to you while you can’t hear me and thinking you are alone. How can I let you know that I am with you? How can I tell you that I’ll be here for you, always? I wish I can go home with you!
She remained standing there for another moment, wanting to stay forever but knowing that she has to leave. Her older son holding her without saying a word mostly because didn’t really know what to say, so just remained there for her. Then the time came and they started to walk away from the empty place back to home…leaving behind her husband’s grave.
Posted by Raul on December 7, 2009
They are out there, they circle around the skies in their mighty flying machines, but they hide from us. They are watching us!
They have been changing us from the beginning with their own seed, watching the outcome of their experiments throughout the centuries and doing adjustments accordingly, checking us from time to time, taking some of us for a short time to see where exactly we are.
There are many paintings from the past about “Them”, many drawings on caves. They have been around since the beginning. So many pictures taken, so many films recorded; most of that can be fake, people trying to get famous or make some money, but it takes just one to be true to prove they exist.
How much is the government hiding? Do they know?
They are out there taking care of us, watching us as big brothers, waiting for us to grow enough to stop wars, to stop selfishness, to become old enough to understand finally that we are children of the cosmos, so become brothers together as we suppose to be.
Then “They” will come down and invite us to join them in the Big Reunion. Then we’ll finally get to meet them and be part of the whole, the universe.
In the meantime we have to keep growing since we are not ready yet. We are children as a race. Earth is a kindergarten and the human race behaves as its children. We need to learn the basics and stop fighting each other or feeling envy for what others have.
Several thousand years more we will be ready, grown enough, mature enough. In some several thousand years more we’ll stop wars as a way of fixing our problems and leave aside our conquering desires.
Only then they will see us as mature enough, as a developed race to the point of being worth to contact, only then they will consider inviting us to join them to be at their side, but for as long as we keep this behavior of violence, self interest and wars for personal gain they will remain aside. They will keep hiding.
If they came down now people would call the military instead of the representatives, governments would try to get their technology for weaponry knowledge and power instead of creating solutions to sicknesses and problems of hunger, to get them as allies for other’s control instead of
planetary health and balance.
They will keep hiding until we are grown enough.
We still see each other as complete strangers when clothing, language or religion is different, even if we are the same race, and when the body is different we become terrified!
We are not ready, we keep doing movies of monster aliens coming to conquer us and eat us! And we always solve those proposed situations with violence.
They will keep hiding, we are not ready yet, but some day we will, and we’ll be part of the universe, without differences between us or them, we will be one with the universe, as we suppose to be!
