I need to give up this life, my friends. Yesterday I was, like always, in the bar in front of my house. I cannot remember how many whiskeys I took but… I think in a couple of hours I will be fine and, at night, the echoes of my sinful life will come again on the rocks.
I need to write more, to finish the novel about blood and pick up the thread of the mermaid… or siren… I don’t know either. The old title of the book must change because there’s something like a bar or a footballer called with its name. I call my Thalia simply ‘the siren’. Maybe in September I can begin translating first chapters to continue the works. It will be written in English and maybe I can write a Spanish version too but I don’t know.
When we came back home yesterday we were watching a Little Mermaid video… ‘Part of Your World’. Everybody thinks on Disney when I talk about my book. No, my siren is not a red-haired mermaid with a teenager mind… no, my mermaid is a siren, not a mermaid. There are many differences. As Homer told us, sirens were birds with strong claws… the mermaids come from German myths and –yes- there are fishes with a long tail with scales. My siren is a siren, not a dog and not another stupid girl who meets her blue prince in a night club plenty of drunkard perverts.
I suppose that’s the magic for teenagers… when you are 16, 17… you imagine a different world. We were plenty of expectations, we were plenty of life and hopes… and one day you wake up and you see how the things you’ve dreamt become smoke. I suppose this is part of the human condition. I don’t want to say I have no hopes now… not at all. I mean I know now that these hopes will be worse than I imagined yesterday. I know now that the greatest Palace in the world isn’t so good as we imagine. Maybe that’s the reason I became a writer. Things are always better in books and films: girls are always prettier, hangovers are always funnier and hopes are always better than you imagined.
I think that the only thing that still continues is that: the imagination is the reason of everything… imagination to create and imagination to survive… imagination to escape as the Disney’s mermaid. No, little mermaid, the world from outside is dark and there’s guys like me everywhere. Maybe you will find your prince, but he would be even green. We try to preserve this innocence but, in some point of the road, we lost it. I can only recover my strength into books, I can only recover this lost innocence inside their pages.
Life is complicated. I would like to read a book as before, as a child who doesn’t know anything about Shakespeare or Joyce. It would be fantastic to recover again the words with the innocent eyes of a teenager. Well, that’s life! It was a time to read, it’s now a time to give… to try to contribute with some words to this miracle we call imagination, literature, writing or art… are not all of them the same? I think I am beginning to feel better, stronger. This afternoon, maybe, I will be able to create something. I will tell you tomorrow… if I am still alive.
Good day. Be a good person. It’s the only important thing. Cheers!
Nightwish- The siren