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Premonition

was open long before that manila envelope.

The harshness with which I reported the disappearance of his son, was transformed into the pain of my mother, when at midnight you wake up with a strange premonition

Your were entering - he told me in the middle of my dreams, I hoped to sleep on the floor, sympathize with my hunch that find you somewhere completely checked out of this awful country, alone, shivering with cold and with almost no in the stomach. Then , you push the door with violence and our eyes were in the dark of night, like two huge fireflies.

And I found myself filled with dirt and corroded, frayed shoes, hair hanging from bushes grown and my rags, I remember that when you pull the door and kissed me as if it were that easy to catch happiness. A brimming with joy that I responded with a stand , you do on the ground, then you complain about your kidneys. was from that moment that both knew that I was dead.

However we have a feeling, a strange concern that as the day goes by in a really accurate diluted, perhaps daily or maybe not. That morning, for us, had little to do with everyday life, although deep inside we knew what our actions bore a scam that we refused to recognize. Your room was on the road of hope, the worst of my troubles and worse, was young and was never going to die.

Then I went by bicycle, death always arrives on a bicycle told me an old guitar he was leaving the binges riding a bicycle and made an eyesore end collision with a truck. I instead was arrested by an army battalion required to identify, and allegedly attacked a militant guerrilla group.

I was sixteen days in captivity, full of mud and starving until one night shortly after that meeting of eyes, a coup de grace I sank into the memory. I cremated and buried in a sewer, a year after ceasing to exist for half of my people and I've been gone nine years, only exist for the hope of my mother.

remember one evening walked up and down these mountains desert where you lost me. That afternoon walked so much and find myself not you sit on a rock, in the same place where I had buried, I wanted to join my ashes in your eyes and wake up to no longer sleep on the floor. Not the case here, but yesterday came a manila envelope, in it an outline of these arid mountains where I burn and the names of my murderers.

feel that you have much work, knocking on doors and mourn in the interviews but I know that is the only way you sleep a little quieter.

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An eternal desktop

time was a foolish, lying to the feet I was suffocating, crowded streets of marches and counter-punched my little awareness about the work parapolitical, psychosocial, petrochemical and nuclear physicist. I just wanted to belong to a restful life came equipped with smoke, a chef anyone who has read the manual Acurio and clear to you with each of your excesses ...

For the various social theories he had read, not my status quo of Crazy vanal sinned. We had hoped that afternoon with all my might, was what he had longed for another week and a year ago and from ten to reduce my excited children, were not you, of course, but came from my father, seasoning my mother and the spirit Saint of the excesses and made me company.

they are probably as good parents, they gave me hedonism. Virginia, the fifth neighbor is responsible for my onanism. At a certain stage of life all the responsibilities are transferable, and lighten the baggage of this great journey that has not yet ended. Nobody wants to reach old age or loading errors committed many sins, old age and is a cruel sentence itself for recharging of unwholesome thoughts. Whatever they say the advocates of eternal life, optimistic Botox and liposuction, your mobility is hindered, your memory is reduced and some people treat you with a suspected respect. Fuck you! say the father of all vices, by the way my legitimate maker, followed by an accurate shot, would sentence: and as the countdown begins, but lewd .

The kids probably own a false experience, guardians of the "good life" the most incredulous give advice. It is impossible to fight against our nature, but this should be our reason to exist, it is impossible to escape the human tediously and start worrying about such care of our parents. It is impossible that everything can not prove to be treatable material to final today.

For these reasons, sharp fangs before death came yesterday played the voice of a writer, carefully worded my last day of life in this rambunctious show, is that I got up early (a approximately noon) stretched every joint in my body (at the time of levarme, of course) I went to the kitchen where I prepared (well actually pressed a couple buttons) and had breakfast a delicious recipe Acurio, accompanied by a formidable Château Petrus. I read the first two pages of the newspaper, the recipe of the day, the horoscope, some another notice and obituaries. I left home on that bike you'll never use and crossing the first block I made the worst of the plays, the most fatal if there is any worse, which led me to this desktop, which drafted the final pleasure of irrational emotions nice, probably unhappy for the world.

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Perhaps

was 5 am on September 1, 1999 and my mother, my brother and I, we were on the ground and ready to find a flat in Manchester, about 202 kilometers from the street Zephyr No. 4 which had hitherto lived. The reason was that there a few days later, I would start the race in Advertising and Public Relations in the School of Information Sciences.

drove about two hours my white Peugeot 205 until you reach what would be my new city for the next three years. I parked near the port and we got to work to try view all rental property that we could in a day.

Finally I loved one in the very center (as usual) behind Picasso House in Plaza de la Merced. Specifically Street Conde de Cienfuegos and there would begin an unforgettable period of my life. After two years would pass closer to the Faculty, Teatinos (when it was not even half of what is now), in Hermes Street.

Plaza de la Merced in Málaga

Before this experience just remember that I had gone twice to Malaga, one to see the Kings of small and I think the other twelve, we were at the center, near where he lived the first year.

But since I came here in 1999 I have only good memories: I met wonderful people who are still my friends, and I know they will remain so forever, although some are in London, Tres Cantos, remain in Malaga depend on where they touch to teach that year. Also finished the race in 3 years I decided, enjoy a lot, I discovered things and I was very happy, but especially for the people I met. Only I have the spine of not having been able to go travel with them to run, just to end the race earlier.

The Faculty of Communication Sciences

Malaga

Years later I kept going with some regularity: the Fair, San Juan, special occasions and when I could because he always welcomed me with open arms.

remember, for example, my first night of San Juan in Malaga in 2004, he had just found out my first finalist in the Cannes Advertising Festival and never forget how all my friends, who had been classmates are really glad for me, and even gave him more important than me. It is very difficult to meet with someone who is happy about the good things that happen and I was fortunate to find many who have been on the good, the bad and good again and always be grateful.

The penultimate good memory of what I have Málaga June 2010 when the Andalucian Short Film Competition Málaga Provincial Council, received the Award RTVA with my second short film "The Note" "The Note". It was exciting, was the first award he had received that I go to pick up and I felt in some way, as a prophet in my country, I was recognized among the mine.

Here I am with RTVA Award for "The Note / Note" in my hands right after receiving it.

This year, on March 5 last, I had another good second last time this city has given me so much, getting back RTVA Award in Short Film Contest Andaluces of the Delegation of Malaga, this case for my third short film "La Cinta" my most personal and most time I've spent so far.

picture of the winners of the 2011 edition of the Andalusian Short Film Competition of the Diputación de Málaga.

Once I felt like I never left, as if in that city open to the sea, open-minded, where I lived so much and met so many people it's worth, I say that there I will always have a place, a place to go, a beacon to help me reach my destination and so we always be grateful. I hope to return soon.