I am sinking into silence... a bit more every day, every turn in the road.
I want to write, but can't choose a language. I feel lazy to write in English, limited and basic. I feel I shouldn't write in Spanish.
Ayer el cielo estaba como nunca antes lo he visto, con un velo rosado sobre incluso el mar. La belleza del cielo y del aire me trajo al pensamiento que la presencia de Dios estaba en ese cielo, por que esa belleza es su acto creativo. Luego pense que no tenia a quien decirle aquello, y llore. Llore por tres minutos, pero desconsoladamente, por que no tenia a quien contarle.
I missed Steven and his generous and kind spirit. He would have understood perfectly. Toño would have felt the same. But they are gone. Then I thought that I was so lonely not to have someone to tell about the sky, and so I thought about my "theologian friends”. Then I realized that there is a whole set of things that I can't express anymore. I certainly could not tell them. I had been silenced. There are not really good reasons. This silence is my own action, but it is somehow unintended. Es como el silencio que resulta de un deseo truncado. El silencio que resulta cuando alguien te roba el alma... querias decirlo todo, pero depronto quedaste vacia, sin nada que decir. And it is a form of solitude.

La forma de ese concierto

how nice it would be to love with such softness and delicacy, to be so filled, to express uncontrollably a world through the eyes, to touch as if after years of longing.