Saturday, 05/29/04 - 11:23 pm.
Because I've been thinking about Ern, Pablo (who left for Cuba yesterday afternoon) and my brother Alan (who leaves in two days), and because I was listening to disturbing stories about the civil war and how they might repeat in a near future in this country, I am in the most depressive mood tonigh.
My parents organized a "goodbye" meal for my brother, and they invited about 50 people. There are people in the early 30s (my siblings and cousins) and people in the late 50s+ (my parents and their friends). I was the only teen, and my nephew was the only child. We kept quoting the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movies and playing with Legos.
The meal was dull for me, but very emotional. I had no fun, if you care to know, and I would've loved for Joseph to be with me, or just to get out of the room and cry, cry, cry. Over my brother's departure, a little for Ern, a little for all the people who were found headless during the 80s.
Somebody asked me about Ern's murder, if it could've been an indirect attack to the rector of the university (Ern worked for him), because he's always been very critical of the government (he was supposed to die in november 1989, when the National Guard broke in the campus of my university and killed the jesuits). I don't know. Maybe. I think so, yes.
My brother said, during his speech before the meal, that God doesn't give you what you want when you ask for it but when He knows you're completely ready to receive it. He's very thoughtful, yes. I am so sad to see him leave, but I'm so happy his dream will come true. He'd only be frustrated if he stayed here. A few days ago, he saw one of his classmates (from medicine school) mopping floors at a mall.
I feel truly messed up, and I have to study for three midterms this week. I was supposed to get together with my group tomorrow, to start one of our researches, but I excused myself, and they understood, the nice kids. "Oh, my brother is leaving on monday", and he is.
My brother was cleaning up his room, and he left me coins and stuffed toys. He found a tape of me when I was three years old. I can't believe that's me, because I'm singing and screaming, and now I never, NEVER do that. It's against my principles. Funny how one changes. He also found dozens of drawings from me to him, and he was cracking up at: Welcome to the heavenly desert, we hope you can make it alive (Alan: I couldn't find yellow, so I'm painting it purple, thanks for understanding). I was cute, and quite lame.
Some people (neighbors and cousins) who attended the meal are here right now. I hear laughter and discussions, and all of the lights of the house are on. I'm not taking part of any of it, as you can tell. By even if I wasn't typing this lame entry, I wouldn't take part in the conversation. I've always felt kind of out of place at family get-togethers. There's never people my age, and my siblings and cousins start reminiscing the most hilarious childhood experiences...but I wasn't there with them (they're all at least 10 years older than me), and I'm not funny like them.
I just want to curl up and cry. I feel depressed. It's such a strong feeling that doesn't come so often and doesn't last long (specially since I'm with Joseph), but I believe that if I felt this way for three months straight, I'd kill myself.