The Green Shoes

Seamlessly Small

It started with the green shoes. They were covered in a sort of supple material, possibly velvet or velour. I have always detested that word, velour. It sounds sour and carries an air of pretention.

It started with the green shoes. They were pointed with four inch stiletto heels. A bit excessive if you ask me. We were at a house party for Christ’s sake.

It started with the green shoes. All she did was blab incessantly about them: where she bought them, how much they cost, it was a never ending volume of information on the hideous commodity.

It started with the green shoes. She was far too heavy to be wearing stilettos to begin with, her fat legs, twirling at the ankles, resembling sausages stuffed into two small casings. Yet, on top of that plump thigh, your hand rested. Your attraction to her always baffled me. I…

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¿Egoísmo o insensibilidad?

El Baúl de Antonieta

Nuestro país vecino lleva varios días de protesta, meses de calvario y años de sufrimiento, el silencio absurdo que recorren las calles de Colombia y el resto de países hermanos han llevado a cuestionarme, será posible que tengamos un corazón tan insensato, una mente tan cerrada, unos oídos tan tapados; para no darnos cuenta el dolor de miles de venezolanos que luchan continuamente por recuperar lo poco que queda de su país, que cada día se levantan con una nueva ilusión y una nueva meta pero lastimosamente obtienen una frialdad absoluta, no solo por parte de su gobierno, sino de sus vecinos, el resto de Americanos ya que lastimosamente en Colombia y el resto de países cercanos tienen una visión errada de los “Americanos”, querido lector, Americanos somos todos, no solo los estadounidenses, sino también el Caribe, México, Chile, etc.

¿De verdad tenemos nuestro corazón tan inundado de anti-patriotismo y…

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Nuestro Amor Mas Clandestino.

El lunes hacemos cola para comprar café. 

El martes llego la harina, entonces hay que salir a hacer cola para comprar harina.

El miércoles hay leche en polvo; no importa si usted no toma leche en polvo, vaya y haga la cola, siempre hay algún amigo que la necesita para sus chamos.

Es jueves y nos avisan que hay papel; toca ir a hacer la cola para el papel, aunque solo te dejen comprar un bulto.

Llego el viernes y no aguantas a que sean las seis para irte a tu casa y planear con los panas los planes de ese día; pero resulta que la comadre de tu mama consiguió aceite en los chinos del centro, y tu mama necesita que vayas para que puedan comprar varios. 

El sábado te dedicas a recorrer tu ciudad en busca de crema dental.

Y el domingo nada de descanso o dormir hasta tarde, te toca ir en busca todo aquello que no te dio tiempo de comprar en la semana.

Escasez, es la palabra de moda estos días. Se ha vuelto tan popular que baila de boca en boca como la prostituta mejor pagada de un burdel. Con su fina lencería roja semitransparente nos deja ver su mas íntimos secretos, sin siquiera dejarle un poco a la imaginación. Te da una cacheta en la cara como haciéndote entrar en la realidad en la que vives. Termina contigo, se para de la cama, toma su dinero y se va; te deja solo pensando en lo que acabas de hacer. Y mientras tu lamentas tu acciones, ella va y seduce a otras bocas en busca del dinero y halagos que aumenten su ego y poder. 

Al mismo tiempo la costumbre se ha vuelto nuestra droga diaria a la cual no solo nos hemos vuelto adictos, si no que también estamos haciendo que nuestros niños sean los consumidores principales de ese narcótico legal que nos ayuda a olvidarnos del desamor causado por la escasez. La costumbre nos toma de la mano como una madre a su hijo pequeño, como asegurándonos que todo va a estar bien. Nos compra un dulce, nos seca las lagrimas y ya se nos olvida todo, porque estamos mas fascinados por el nuevo dulce en nuestras manos que por la razón que nos causo el llanto. Es una droga que envuelve entre sus brazos acogedores y nos hace pensar que con ella nada existe, pero la verdad es que no nos brinda una solución. Aquí todos somos parte de un cartel cuyos fines son el mismo, una solución. Y los lideres de este cartel son aquellos que se hacen llamar políticos; el problema es que vivimos en un país en donde todos se creen políticos, sin importar el grado de educación que tenga. Hasta el niño de diez años tiene algo que decir del gobierno venezolano. Y es que aun no caemos en cuenta que lo que mas esta escaso en Venezuela son lideres de verdad. No se trata de la escasez de harina o mantequilla, se trata de la escasez de un líder que sepa poder manejar la economía para así poder distribuir con igualdad los productos de primera necesidad. Ya basta de hablar de la inseguridad que existe, y de estar contando las muertes diarias. Como venezolanos y como ciudadanos del mundo tenemos que aprender que si nos vamos a quejar de la gota que derramo el vaso, tenemos que empezar a preocuparnos por la rapidez con la que este se llena. Nos quejamos de que el gobierno actual se harta de gastar los bienes que nos tocan por derecho, pero no somos lo suficientemente inteligentes como para reclamar lo que es nuestro. Hablamos mal del que gano, del que no gano, del que se robo las elecciones y del que se dejo robar. Nos molestamos por que al muerto lo toman por vivo, pero es que acaso nosotros hacemos algo por enterrarlo?

Necesitamos unidad. Unidad no se trata de salir a marchar el lunes por uno, el martes por el otro y el miércoles por la otra; a ver quien gana primero. No. Tampoco se trata de que entre políticos se peleen y se empiecen a sacar los trapitos a la calle para ver cuantos seguidores tiene cada quien. No es cuestión de quien es el mas radical o el mas pacifico. Es cuestión de tener poder de decisión, y el poder de decisión no nace con la persona. Se hace y se gana; y no es que se gana con la capacidad de labia que tiene la persona hacia sus seguidores, si no con la capacidad que tiene el líder de darle una solución a sus partidarios, asegurándoles de que trabajando todos juntos se construye la victoria tan deseada, aunque no tan merecida por nuestra falta de perseverancia.

En fin, debemos dejar a un lado las necesidades personales para si poder establecer las necesidades como país y como nación. Tenemos que dejar a un lado la tan llamada patria. De lo contrario esta misma se encargara de crear un monopolio de burdeles llenos de tanta escasez que cada ciudadano de Venezuela tendrá su propia dama de compañía a domicilio cada hora que pasa, dejándonos en banca rota. Una banca rota no solo económica, si no emocional. Y honestamente no creo que exista tanto alcohol en Venezuela como para que cada venezolano olvide su despecho; irónicamente, la escasez se ha encargado hasta de quitarnos eso.

27 Nights

What Happens to Us

The 1st night, Evan asked Kendra when she had first been attracted to him.

“About three seconds after I saw you,” she said as she ran her fingernails through his chest hair.

The 2nd night, they were walking around the mall.  Holding hands was their new thrill.  Evan was holding hands with a therapist.  He was holding hands with a leggy brunette.  He told her about Kim Philby, the MI5 agent who had betrayed all of England by passing all their secrets for over 20 years to the Soviets.  She told him about Alice Miller, who had developed a theory about the gifted codependent child.  They were giddy but tired from having slept only three hours.

IMG_6627 smaller biggerThe 3rd night, Kendra sat down and calculated that they had been together for 56 hours straight.  It was like being drunk without drinking.

“My life is going to hell,” she…

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17 Playful Doodles that Incorporate Everyday Objects

TwistedSifter

 

Javier Pérez aka cintascotch, is an artist and illustrator from Guayaquil, Ecuador. A few times a week, Pérez shares a new doodle with his 20,000 Instagram followers. Each doodle incorporates everyday objects like paper clips, coins and scissors. The doodles transform the objects into something completely new and different.

It’s a fun and creative way to look at an object, even seemingly mundane ones, and reimagine them as something else. To see more playful diversions, be sure to check out Javier’s work at the links below.

 

Javier Pérez (cintascotch)
Website | Facebook | Behance | Twitter | Instagram

 

1.

doodles with everyday objects javier perez (10)

Artwork by Javier Pérez (cintascotch)
Website | Facebook | Behance | Twitter | Instagram

 

2.

doodles with everyday objects javier perez (3)

Artwork by Javier Pérez (cintascotch)
Website | Facebook | Behance | Twitter | Instagram

 

3.

doodles with everyday objects javier perez (7)

Artwork by Javier Pérez (cintascotch)
Website | Facebook | Behance | Twitter | Instagram

 

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Free yourself. Analyzing The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman.

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So.. I was required to analyze The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman for my literature class. I really believe is a controversial story.  Also I admire Gilman for creating a piece that supports the feminist movement even though she wrote this at a time where men where all over the place oppressing women. GO GIRLS 🙂 

 

The yellow wallpaper is one of Charlotte Perkins most known short stories.  This journal-kind-of-story set in the late 1890’s describes the summer of an anonymous ill woman (whom is supposed to be named Jane) married to a doctor named John.  Because of her sickness and John’s work, the two of them, their child and the housekeeper (also John’s sister, Jennie) move to a big old house.  The lady describes her summer in this house, the surroundings and how she feels, physically and mentally. 

 

One obvious detail about the story is the strong feminism that Gilman reflected.  John is the only economic support of the house, also the one who dictates what the two women living in it ought to do.  John as a physician determined that his wife was suffering from hysterical depression; in the 1800’s this disease in a woman was consider related to the reproductive organ.  Charlotte doesn’t necessarily states this in her story, but since the main character writes about her little baby we can assume she just gave birth to him/her and that is why her husband prescribed this.  Going back to the feminism, we have a husband who doesn’t take his wife seriously, in fact, he doesn’t take this “disease” seriously; as a result of it he tells her to limit her actions; not to talk, not to write and just get out of the room for food.  Basically she was told to rest.  This story is consider part of feminist literature because by the time it is set and it was written, the controlling behavior from men towards women was consider normal; however, we have the female main character always writing how she feels, either good or bad things about her husband, and what she thinks about the whole situation.  She kind of contradicts herself establishing two types of persona.  One when she is all about admiring her husband’s decisions; and the other one appears every time she feels oppress by him, being more noticeable when the wallpaper becomes her.

 

Is important to consider the wallpaper as a main symbol of the story.  This is not only how Jane escapes from her depression, but also, how her depression turns in to a serious anxiety case.  At first she is all about loving the house and the garden, but when it comes to the room she hates it, specially the wallpaper.  She describes it as an “artistic sin.”  This old and horrendous yellow wallpaper that forms different patterns and angles due to the time that it has been there repulses Jane.  That is how she begins to study the “disgusting art piece.”  Little by little Jane gets obsessed with the wallpaper, first studying it at night when she is supposed to be sleeping; then she refuses to leave the room and spend all of her time determining new figures on it.  Later on she discovers the shape of a woman on the wallpaper.  The appearance of this fictitious woman is a desperate way of the narrator to drain all the dominating actions that everyone (specially the husband) is taking towards her.  Is evident the meaning of the wallpaper is strongly related to the lack of socialization; she is looking for someone to listen to her, someone to talk to and spend time with.  At the same time Jane starts to see the woman’s reflection on the windows and interpreting this as if she was some kind of prisoner; truth is, she is really looking at her own and the way she sees herself, as if it was some kind of mirror reflecting the truth about her life.  We can assume that at this point Jane’s mental illness is more than just a simple depression.  Her symptoms match perfectly with a post-partum psychosis.  Typical symptoms are mood changes and hallucinations.  This is exactly Jane’s profile.  Since her husband doesn’t take her seriously she is having a possible breakdown and looking for an scape.

 

The family is now about to leave the house, but Jane’s obsession with the wallpaper has increased.  At the beginning of the story the narrator was aware of her husband’s dominance, but she states that this is because of his love and care for her.  At this stage of the story she uses the word pretend as if he was pretending to love her.  She also doesn’t believe the fact that John and Jennie don’t seem to notice the wallpaper’s movements and smell; they don’t even notice the woman shaking it! So Jane decides to free the poor wallpaper woman by tearing it off the wall.  She is at a point where there is no difference between the fictitious woman and her, they have become one.  Obviously she feels related to the woman on the wall, that’s why she needs to free her form the oppressing bars that are retaining her from getting a life.  She peels of the wallpaper and feels how the patterns “enjoy it,” this however, is the thrill and excitement that she gets from ripping it off.  Jane now refers herself as the woman on the wall and feels free and pleased.

 

When it comes to the end, it is very confusing.  The narrator states that she tied herself with the rope but at the same time she says she is “free to creep around.”  Maybe she feels that she released herself from the wallpaper (being the wallpaper her husband’s dominance) but at the same time she is trapped with the rope.  The very end of the story leaves the reader with a lot of questions; the writer doesn’t states if the narrator dies or if she finally gets pass through this psychotic breakdown.  But if we compare the narrator with the writer is easy to find not some, but a lot of similarities.  One of them is the fact that Charlotte was prescribe with the “rest cure” after a depression episode on her life just like Jane; but the only difference is that Gilman recovered herself later.  So the writer made a semi biographical short story with a twisted end, leaving the main character’s destiny and identity up to the reader’s imagination.