El futuro está en el amanecer

Estoy convencido de que el futuro de la humanidad está en la utilización de las energías alternativas, las llamadas energías limpias. Nos merecemos un mundo mejor. La Palma, Islas Canarias, octubre de 2017.

La pesadilla

Recordaba las caricias de su madre, aquella mano suave que hacía que se durmiese como si no importara el mañana y que acompañaba la inocencia que perdió para siempre. 

Ahora se despertaba todas las noches buscando sus caricias cuando la perseguía aquella pesadilla que era como un taladro inexorable, que la atravesaba de pies a cabeza, que hacía que se quedará bloqueada mientras un sudor frío recorría cada poro de su piel.

La pesadilla la llevaba de la mano hacia un altísimo risco y, una vez allí, alguien la empujaba hacia un abismo al que caía sin posibilidad de retorno y se despertaba de un sobresalto. 

Recordó, con una sonrisa, aquellos días en que tenía esa misma pesadilla y caía al mismo abismo sin fin, pero antes de estrellarse contra el suelo, en el último momento, en vez de despertarse sobresaltada, volaba con la agilidad y la velocidad de un vencejo, libre y dueña de sus sueños.

Se preguntaba, quizás la edad, la ansiedad, la responsabilidad, el trabajo y la vida que le pasaba la factura y ella quería pagarla, sí, no con las caricias de su madre, sino con los vuelos del vencejo.

Fuente de la imagen:  Pixabay

The square metre of your comfort zone

 He got up like every day, early and without hurry. He greeted his little dog Molly and prepared the coffee pot and put it in the glass ceramics. He undressed and went into the shower. He dried himself, put the towel on his waist and left when the coffeemaker began to whistle. He turned off the glass ceramic, closed the lid of the coffee maker, went to his room and dressed in his best suit. 

He left his room with his suitcase. He went to the living room. Took the plane ticket that was on the table and looked at it for a moment. He felt his heart throb like a runaway horse. His little dog Molly was sitting next to him, wagging her tail, hoping he would take her out to the park. He touched his head and said:

—Today I can not get you out. I am sorry. At noon, Maria will come and give you a ride. I have to travel, Moly, I have a work meeting that I can not miss.

He left the plane ticket at the table, went to the kitchen and drank his coffee. 

He got up and put the coffee cup in the sink, turned on the tap and put some water on it. He left the kitchen. Went to the living room, put on his jacket, took the ticket, the suitcase, opened the door and went out to the landing. He closed the door . He went to the elevator, touched the button to call him and waited. 

He watched, with curiosity, how all the floors passed through the digital counter of the elevator. Without knowing why, he thought about his life, that, in the end, it was like an elevator, that going up and down, without any aim.

The elevator bell took him out of his reflection. The sliding door opened and he entered.  

Soon he saw himself on the street, looked to one side and then to the other. He checked the time on his watch and went to the taxi stand that was at the end of the park. 

He crossed the park, slowly, accompanied by the rattle of the wheels of his small suitcase, without removing from his head the elevator and his digital count.

When he reached the stop, he found that it was empty. There was not any taxi. He looked at the clock again. He thought that he would not be in time to the airport. For the first time in his life, he did not care.

He stayed there waiting for a taxi that to take him to the airport. Soon one arrived, but he turned around and retraced his steps.

Now he was not thinking about the digital counting of the elevator, or his work, or the meeting in that city that was more than three thousand kilometers away, or in the dismissal and in his severance pay, or even what he going to do with his life from that moment. He only thought of taking her dog Molly to the park that was in front of her house and the square meter of her comfort zone.

Source of the image: Pixabay

La hora del contraluz

Una de los aspectos que más me gustan de las fotografías es el contraluz porque le dan a la fotografía un aspecto distinto, resaltando partes del objeto de una manera sublime. La Palma, octubre de 2017.

Size does matter

I'm not going to talk about SEX. I'll tell you about the size of your blog posts on Steemit or any other platform.

Before getting into the subject, I would like to tell you that more important than size is knowing what we are going to say. You have to be clear, because that will help us to be more effective, direct and not entangle ourselves with what we want to say. Do not tangle up. Don't write a gibberish that nobody will understand.

For that reason it is important to make a preliminary scheme. A kind of script of what we want to tell, where it is clear, the planning, development and conclusion.

It is also important to be clear about the title of your entry, which will be direct, clear and not too long, no more than 67 characters.

Having said that, we are going to the heart of the matter.

There is a lot written about the matter. What size does a blog entry have to have?. That is, what number of words does an entry have to have to have a greater impact on our potential readers?

My method when I write an entry is based on these two premises:

The first is the number of words I will use. These words have to allow me to tell what I want to tell.  No more and no less. It is worthless to adjust to 1000 words and that the message of the article does not arrive clearly.

The second is, once satisfied with the content, reduce it as much as possible. Make an effort of synthesis. Without sacrificing, at all, the content.

I know, from experience, that texts of more than 2000 words are not very attractive. We must also say that every day we have less time. We only read only what interests us. If what interests us is well counted and in a concise way, then better. Baltasar Gracian said: "The good, if brief, is twice as good; and even bad, if a brief, not so bad. "

Therefore, and to conclude, I would  recommend you  that your entries be between 400 and 900 words. From my point of view, that is the ideal number for your entries to be read completely and reach the largest possible number of readers. Without forgetting, of course, what I told you before, that you are more than satisfied with the content, that you have used the right number of words to say what you wanted to say.

I hope this post was useful for you.

This text has 432 words.

 Image source: Pixabay 

Pasillo semioscuro

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Un pasillo siempre es una invitación a entrar, salvo los oscuros que ponen a prueba tu valentía. La Palma, octubre de 2017.

Conversation with my toilet

Autumn is the best time to gather mushrooms and in the mountains close to home there are many of them. So that Saturday I left very early, with the healthy intention of filling my wicker basket with some of them. 

I spent the morning  walking the forest in search of the bests. Before noon I had enough to make a good plate of garlic mushrooms accompanied by an excellent Iberian ham. 

I returned home and got down to work. I selected the highest quality ones, I washed them thoroughly and then I went to the culinary task.

I took good account of the dish I had prepared. After half an hour, I started to feel strange, with an uncommon feeling in my stomach. I thought, at first, that it could be a food poisoning; They are very frequent when you eat mushrooms. I went to the bathroom and sat on the toilet. After a few moments, I heard a deep voice that echoed throughout the house and said: 

Could you remove your hairy ass from my white head? 

I was paralyzed. Who was talking to me? The toilet?

I tried to get up, but I could not: a force, which I did not control, kept me close to the toilet. Then the hole of the toilet began to open, as if he wanted to swallow me. 

Soon, I fell inside and started down the drain, as if I was going down one of those slides that are in the water parks, until I came to a small room where, curiously, there was not a drop of water. In front of me was my toilet, sitting on a black sofa. 

I did not understand anything at all, I did not know what was happening to me and, at a certain moment, the toilet spoke to me again: 

 —I wanted to talk with you; We are face to face. 

—And what did you want to talk to me about? I do not usually talk to toilets, "I said.

—I do not talk to humans either. But now we are face to face and I would like to tell you one thing. I'm fed up that every time you sit to defecate leave me blacker than the asphalt. 

—It's normal, do not you think? One sits for what he sits. You will not expect it to shit flowers. Each one has to go through with what touches him in life, you have had to be a toilet and me human. In another life,  you request to be something else, I do not know, handwash, car, giraffe.  

—Don't be insolent. As if one could control destiny. Fate is given to you; nothing or nobody controls it. You will be stupid ...

—Then you do not believe in reincarnation? —asked him.

—No, I do not think so. Inert beings do not usually have that kind of philosophical concerns, we leave that for humans, who tend a lot to that kind of ravings. 

—Well, you have it clear: when I replace you with another one of last design, you will remain an old toilet for all eternity, ha ha ha ha ha ha ... At least, you should believe in another life, as we do some humans, that we deceive ourselves to live a little better the life that has touched us. You know, that of believing in the hereafter, in reincarnation, in Nirvana ... I do not know if you understand me. — I tried to explain him.

—I'm very pragmatic, maybe it's because of my condition as cold china. I do not know. Maybe that's why I do not worry about tomorrow, I'm more of the"Carpe Diem", and my "live the moment" is limited to the time when you sit on top of me. That is the moment that worries me, which is directly proportional to my happiness. 

—Directly proportional to your happiness? —I asked in amazement. 

—I explain you. I am happy when I am clean and gleaming. When you enter the bathroom my happiness suffers, because there is a possibility that you sit to defecate. So I'm unhappy for the reasons I explained to you at the beginning. 

—That do you want me to do? —I asked irritably.

—That you help me to be happier. I only ask that when you finish doing your needs, take the brush and clean me, just that. It's that you never do it. 

—I know I do not, but, always, I'm going in a hurry. I can not lose it in nonsense. 

—It is not nonsense, for me it is a very serious thing. 

I was going to answer him, but I felt an immense desire to sleep. I went to a rug that was next to the sofa on which my toilet was sitting, I lay down and fell asleep.

The next morning I woke up lying on the bathroom rug, not remembering very well what had happened. I got up, opened the fridge, took out the remaining mushrooms and sorted them. I identified almost all, but there was one that had escaped me and that I did not know. I looked for it in my extraordinary encyclopedia of mycology. It was a variety of Psilocybe Semilanceata accredited for its psychotropic effects. There was the reason for my conversation with my toilet. 

 Before leaving for work,  I felt the need to go to the bathroom, I sat in the toilet, I defecated, to flush the toilet and ran away because was late for work. 

When I reached the door, I turned around, went to the bathroom, picked up the brush and cleaned the blackish braking that I left.

From that day I understood that inert bodies also have the right to happiness.

Source of the image: Pixbay