Las hojas secas están por volar
Viene el viento y con caricias las levanta
Ha prometido que no serán más resquebrajadas
por el paso de la vida.
Abandonan aquel gris momento y se unen en vuelo.
La banca llora sobre el suelo húmedo
que dejaron las lluvias de otoño
¿Hacia donde vá el viento y de donde viene?
Unas veces somos hojas, otras veces somos bancas.
Departure
The dry leaves are about to fly
The wind arrives with caresses and sweeps them off ground
The wind has promised they will never again be smashed by life
They abandon grey memoirs and fly together.
The bench cries alone, standing on wet mud
left by autumn rains
¿Where does the wind go, where does it come from?
Sometimes we are leaves, sometimes we are benches.
6/30/07
6/10/07
Life Changing Moment
Years ago, I decided I was never, ever going back to advertising. And decided to become a misionaire, and go into the full time ministry, which I did for 4-5 years. Now, I feel an urge I can't explain to go back to my roots. Been offered a job at Excell Ogilvy as a creative copywriter for Coca-Cola and other worldwide brands. My days at Samaritan's Purse are getting grey and sad for all this counseling and not being able to present a real solution to these people is killing my strenght. Here at my country, people with aids can't get real good medicine, they're sending crap to the people here and expect us to give hope when we don't have the tools. Our customers are dying, not of aids but of all the other sicknesses that the pills produce. And if they are healthy because they have enough food, their families reject them. It's a no way out situation and I'm tired of giving bad news. If they call me, I probably will take the job.