jueves, 11 de marzo de 2010

Atrás y adelante

Tengo esto completamente abandonado y debería volver a recuperarlo. Quizás cuando no ande hasta arriba de trabajos, pero en cualquier caso debería compartir alguna de mis últimas paranoias. Pero hoy, enferma, agobiada y con morriña, a unas horas de irme a casa y de casa (dicen que 'home is where the heart is' pero entonces cuándo tu corazón está dividido ¿qué?) en tren por 3 días que se hacen escasos ando pensando en la fecha. En el dichoso y traido 11M. Y como siempre será algo que no me deje indiferente voy a compartir lo que escribí hace ahora un año mientras estaba en Holanda.

Porque ya fuera Amsterdam o ahora Barcelona sufriendo frio y viendo el sol los sentimientos siguen siendo los mismos. Como siempre siento el inglés patatero...

Amsterdam, 11 de marzo de 2009

Five years ago

It's interesting how the time keeps on going as does life but some things still hurt. Maybe it's my fault for not being able to understand. Or maybe it's just that it can't be understood. Actually it doesn't matter.

It's interesting how some things can get stuck in your memory and leave scars even if you weren't physically there. How you get hit by them in a different kind of collateral damage. And how you can't help feeling guilty for being lucky or blame the luck of others.
There are thousands of stories about this same day five years ago. Some are known and stuck in our collective mind, some were known and now they are forgotten. And some will never be known except for the people there and their families, friends and acquaintances. Some stories are amazing, others heartbreaking and there are a lot of "what ifs" attached to them. I know some of them, publicly known and not, and others I'll never know about.

On some of the stories I know, I was just a listener, committing it to memory to try to never forget it. I was an active participant in some of the others. And none of them makes me special because everybody who lived or knew someone in Madrid that day has similar stories. "All of us were in those trains" was said and in a way it was true and we are still going.

There are things I remember about that day, clear and bright, like the sky was. Like the sky is today five years in the future and God knows how many kilometres from where my memory is taking me today.
There are things that have gotten blurry with time, hours lost among the stress and the shock and the need to know and the rage against what we were witnessing.
There are things I may have forgotten because after all, I'm human and time tends to soothe even the fear and raw wounds. There are things I haven't forgotten but I have tried to forgive, because hate doesn't fix anything and five years is a long time for hate. But not for demanding respect and justice.

Lots of things happened five years ago around the world. As did the following days. What happened in Madrid is just a bit more well known and painful for us. That's why once a year I can't help going back in time if only for a few moments. And we'll keep on living our lives and hoping nobody else has to suffer this shit anywhere in the world, but once a year we'll mourn and we'll always remember.
Because as someone said once:
The stupid neither forgive nor forget; the naive forgive and forget; the wise forgive but do not forget.
And we should remember it

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