La gringa chilena

Habia una vez, en un lugar muy, muy lejos: Hablando en vueltas por  pasillos, esta es un conversacion que tienen los adultos maduros, y temo que no somos adultos ni maduros. Trato de desviar el tema, porque siento que necesito contar mas, explicarme, pero no me sale. Digo lo poco que puedo porque no se como hablar del futuro. Aun no entiendo porque el le gusta pensar en el futuro, y porque quiere que yo este en el, aunque yo quiero lo mismo. El lo dice, y lo hace real. Pero con promesas de esperas, y meses de planes, siento que el esta pensando en un cuento de hadas. Calza, soy tan bonita como una princesa, y daria lo que sea por unos tacos de vidrio. Yo aun no creo en esos cuentos:  Le digo que soy realistica, contra su romanticismo. Creo que seria injusto ternerlo, sin saber lo que viene. Tengo que pensar en mi felicidad tambien. Estoy muy feliz con el, pero hay decisiones que adultos tienen que tomar, que duelen por el bien de los dos. Aunque no soy adulta. Entonces si m...

He's coming back   but I wish he would stay   Gone.   Maybe he will look at me and keep walking, And   Maybe his arms will wrap me up and feel like Home. The thoughts race and ramble, like a dream. Thinking About how the time has gone, and changed.   Too Many months, years, and i still think about him too Much, To not expect something in return and admit   I'm Scared that I messed up and we are both Too   Different. What happens if now is too Late? I will Only have my words to save me, and I Write Every week, hoping that he still feels Our   Connection, and that we are meant for a   Happy Ending.

Hoy no escribire cosas que le dan pena a mi pololo Hoy escribire de un dia que estara recordado por al menos cien anos Hoy estoy orgullosa de ser Chilena Trump will deport me anyways This past Tuesday, after a year of paperwork, visits to the Registro Civil, and months of no visa, I finally gained dual citizenship. The lady handed me my certificate like it was nothing. Just a piece of paper, and they called the next number. But with that paper in my hand, I felt proud. I was a Moya and my grandfather and I grinned at each other, because we had done it. It was a victory, a joy deeper than the fact that I could no longer be deported, the fact that I could travel to other countries easier, it was the proof that I belonged. In the States, I was Chilean. In Chile, I was Gringa. People made me believe I was a foreigner in whatever country I lived. I would try hide my accent, disappointed when people realized that I was not in fact, as Chilena as they thought, or as gringa as they wanted...

I told you I would write you a poem, Because you thought I was talented. We would talk on the phone for hours, Because I could never sleep. We were together for two months And then another one. In my head, I felt nothing for you But my heart hurt anyways. You smile and I am anxious, Thinking back, trying to remember what made you the villain in my story, the antagonist, You kiss my cheek, and I am still, the memories are unstoppable, Back when I was nothing but skin, and bones, and crazy, Left defenseless, All I can do is stay standing, And remember that you hurt me more than the first. So here is your poem Here is the proof that I am not as breakable as I was, in only six stanzas, all for you.

ALL HE WANTS TO DO IS PARTY WITH HIS PRETTY BABY: I am in a Lana Del Ray mood, which means, I am in a mood to dance and sway around my room, dramatically. But it is cold, the window doesn't stop the cold air from getting through. So I can't sway like a broken flower, and I will just have to write in my blog about my weekend away in Concepcion. MONEY IS THE ANTHEM OF SUCCESS: So I lost my wallet in Concepcion, after buying dominoes pizza. Good pizza though, so it was worth it. It almost tasted like Pappo's, almost. As we walked through the streets, trying to find my pug coin purse, I was nervous. Not because I thought I wouldn't find it, but because it was the first problem on a so far perfect trip. Diego and I walked in silence, and it was what I had been afraid of when I was planning my trip. I was afraid that I would have to see how you act in new situations, and maybe I wouldn't like it. I wasn't really ready for that "honeymoon phase" to be ...

Although I never took the time to read the book, I mean, it was written in old English with french and creole or something, and I personally thought it was incredibly boring, I do remember the ending. *SPOILER ALERT* Edna, the main character, ends the novel by walking into the ocean, until she can no longer touch the bottom,continuing until she disappears under the waves.The book clearly gives the reader the thought that Edna has killed herself, can't remember why, but that she took her life into her own hands by deciding to drown herself in the most beautiful place. I still remember the description of the last pages, of the ocean. I went to the ocean this weekend, in Penco, Concepcion. Arriving in Conce, I didn't understand why someone would live here when Santiago was only six hours away. But as we took the bus which takes you straight to the different beaches, I realized how it could be hard to leave. The sun went down, beneath the pier, and its rays carved a bright light t...

Se que te ries cada vez que lo digo, y creo que siempre me haras bullying por decirtelo pero no me importa. Me gusta decirtelo, y me gusta escribirtelo. Lo digo porque lo siento. Si no lo sentia, ni loca me iria en bus seis horas para verte tres dias seguidos. Estoy 127% segura que la vamos a pasar a todo chancho. Vamos a estar bacilando, carreteando, y pelandonos, porque somos terriblemente pulentos. Te digo que me importas porque me importas. Trato de amar a cada persona que conozco, pero conozco mucha gente, y no todos me pueden importar. No puedo hablarles todo los dias, no los puedo ver, y cuando me voy, pierdo contacto, y cada uno vive su vida. Pero tu me importas. Pa que lo sepas. Esto es tan cursi que dudo que lo publicare. Quedara en mis drafts, hasta que se publique solo. Estoy caendome en lo cursi, y para mi, eso tiene todo el sentido.

ME VOY PA CONCE BBY  It felt a little nostalgic buying my bus ticket, because the last time I was about to head out to Concepcion, I was going to see a boy I liked. My ex boyfriend. And now I am doing exactly the same with my new boyfriend. Weird. But I am super stoked, although I still have to pack my suitcase which has proved difficult because apparently, it's going to be v cold. And I not only do not own any clothes to endure the cold, I dress somewhat inappropriately like almost everyday of my life. I mean, I have a bra crop top that says GANGSTER RAP MADE ME DO IT, and I wear it. Plus my grandma thinks my underpants are an abomination. To seal the deal, my usual pajamas are tight flower pants and an over sized bob Marley shirt that I got for my stoner ex bae in the Bahamas. I don't know how his parents would feel about those. But other than the fact that I still haven't packed, and I should be doing homework right now instead of blogging it out, everything is lookin...

Well of course I do. I just pretend like I don't, because it is easier that way. But if I have learned anything from the beautifully handsome Marty McFly in Back to the Future *1 and 2* it is that I cannot be scared of rejection. I mean, most of the times I am not. I tell boys that I like them first, and I wear whatever I want, even if they are pink jelly high heels and my mom tells me that she would rather die than be seen in those. But I pretend I don't know what I want because the situation at hand is much bigger than my size seven rosy pink heels, it is about my future career *groans*. I want to be a writer, I have since I could read. In first grade, I was the best reader in my class, and my teacher would send me home with Junie B Jones books omg chapter books. I was obsessed, and by second grade, I was writing my own stories. But when it came to what I wanted to study in college, I had no idea. I was in between a fashion design major with a marketing minor, or a global st...

Mi abuela me dijo que me resfrie porque ando pelucha por las calles. But I doubt that is the problem. Today I write because I woke up thinking of you, and decided to keep dreaming of you. Although I want to say I resisted, that I said no every time I said I would, that would be a lie. I think back to the day where all I wanted was for you to like me, and how you asked me when we would see each other again. I played it cool and replied that I would love to see you again, and as you walked away I held in my excitement until Melanie came to talk. I didn't care who saw, if you saw, we jumped up and down in a girly fashion as I told her that we were going out again. I am trying: Trying to believe in something that can go either way. Trying to write about other things. Trying to eat more. Trying to mend old relationships with loved ones. But it is hard. V hard trying to follow rules, trying to take care of myself, and so forth.  I have to go see my dentist tomorrow. Eek. I ...

My freshman year of high school I was obnoxious. I had crooked teeth, a loud mouth, and opinions on just about everything. I will never understand why the older boys took notice of my group of friends, especially in me. But one did, and his name was Junior. He thought I was funny I think, and we would chat on Facebook, making me feel special. The famous homecoming dance season came, and my mother told me since I was not yet 16, I would  have to turn down any invitations. I think three boys invited me, but Junior was the only one I wanted to go with. I kind of felt like a loser, explaining that my mom was making me go with friends, and that he would have to find another date, but he was so understanding, and I promised to save him a dance. Scrolling through Facebook two or three years later, and I saw that as the time had passed, he had become a father, welcoming a new life into the world. Shortly after, someone shot him, the day before fathers day. He died, and I remember scrollin...

I am a fool at nineteen. Lying on the new carpet fresh and clean smell I look up and see, t rying to get the one good last look up before I don't have the opportunity to do so to get that one last look at the ridged pattern fan whirring and lavender walls but the walls are a weird white color that actually is kind of yellow and the carpet feels foreign as I let my hands slide down along with my body and all I see is the ceiling and where the walls meet forming memorized corners and as I stand I see the room has shrunk considerably due to the emptiness and my missing bed even the closet that was well equipped to store the evidence of a minor shopping addiction seems strangely distorted as all that is left inside are two racks and many colored hangers missing the barely worn garments I had convinced myself were essential to my look megan wardrobe. I loved my room almost as much as I love run on sentences, more so in fact it was a place that harbored my growing up self I don't rea...

Un dia como cualquiera dirian los demas . Pero ellos no saben lo que sabemos nosotros. Me desperte con ganas de seguir durmiendo. Ignorando mis responsabilidades dormi por dos horas mas. Agarre el primer vestido que encontre, mi abrigo, y un pan y me fui. Aunque traje puesto mi abrigo, se sentia como un dia de verano. Onda, el sol habia salido de las nubes, y el viento corria acalorado. Es ese istante juraba que era verano, uy como lo echo de menos. Verano es la temporada donde yo soy yo, y soy morena una vez mas. Todo es opcional: una rutina diaria, un sosten, y depilarse. Y yo siempre tomo la opcion de decirle no a todas esas cosas porque quiero ser lo mas libre que puedo, hasta que tengo que enfocar mi tiempo en mis notas, mi trabajos, etc. Por fin llego a la pega Y aunque le llamo pega, aun no me pagan. Pero me gusta servir, y hoy todos responden el telefono. Hablo con mas de 30 personas, hola, es la megan, del fondo perpetuo, etc etc. Pienso en mi chico, en mis amigas, y como...

Siento que soy la unica no viendo el partido pero me gusta jugar los deportes mas que verlos. Me gusta esa sensacion donde ya sientes que esto va ser tu ultimo respiro, pero aun sigues corriendo para meter el gol y ahi de no se donde, viene la fuerza para seguir, viento en tus venas. Argentina gano, ahi lloran muchos chilenos, que se quedaron despiertos hasta las once de la noche solo para gritarle a la tele y tomar chelitas con amigos. Solo puedo decir que estaba rezando por Chile, y tire todo mis besos al aire por este gran equipo. Me acuerdo de cuando estaba viendo el mundial en mi casa unos anos atras, mi boca llena de algodon porque recien me habian sacado mis muelas del juicio, pero igual gritaba a la tele y casi me caigo de mi asiento de nervios. Futbol, aunque se tiran al suelo y ni se tocan, es rudo. Antes jugaba futbol y jugaba en la izquierda, medio de la cancha. Corria demasiado, empujaba algunas ninas, y casi nunca ganabamos nuestros partidos. Pero la pasamos bien, Chile ...

If you find yourself *dating* in Chile, get ready to be confused. There are many stages in the dating game. It has taken me months to fully understand how things work around here, and countless charlas de como hacer todo la volaaaaaa.  Here are the stages of dating: Me tinca/ Me atrae Me gusta Estamos saliendo Estamos andando Por fin el maldito pololeo y no creo que te casis po Me tinca/Me atrae vs Me gusta UYYY que lindo ese loco. It is like at first sight, and translates to: I find them attractive. It means nothing yet, just an interest, a need to know more. I often confuse this with 'me gusta', and my friends are keen on reminding me that there is a difference (there really isn't). As my wise friend Rolo told me, gustar y atraer es lo mismo. You either like ice cream or you don't. And I love ice cream. Another made up Chilean rule, you can only like one person at a time. That's crazy, haven't they ever seen a romantic comedy? Me gusta translates as...

What I like about Diegis: Su nombre con la mía His taste in music, and how he gets that look in his eyes when he talks about things we have in common He likes Adam Sandler We have yet to have a boring day He takes me to places I've been before and makes them new and the new places he makes me like  I hate falling for people, but this is nice He has a cool family and sticks out in them I like that he listens to me He's smart, and critiques my writing when I ask him to He contradicts my theory of opposites attract He cares about people He cares about me! ? !! He is funny, and I like the way he tells stories , y eso.  He takes everything at the right pace, and he isn't lazy. At all.  He goes out of his way to make people feel welcome.  He is friends with Rolo.  This list is getting incredibly long. But that is a good thing. He knows how to build things, and his drawing skillz r off the chain Se cree gangster  He likes C...

Solo se que nada se: Odio esa frase. Siento que la gente la usa cuando se quieren ver mas inteligente *no funciona.* Creo que hoy me deberia haber quedado en casa. Los nervios me ganaron, y en el metro, mis piernas pararon de funcionar, y mi corazon estaba en mi garganta. Aunque oraba que me podria pasar, puse la musica lo mas alto que pude, solo tuve que aceptar que en todo hay consequencias y esto era la mia. Me siento dramatica, me siento como una nena. Me siento como una pava. Reconozco que aun no se nada de dolor, de la vida, porque solo he vivido 20 anos. Pero no dire que se nada de nada, porque si se como cocinar arroz y tocar el piano basico. Me siento (sentada): Como que si me mirabas diferente. Pero no. No creo. Siento que las preguntas me acompanaron hasta la casa, y que no se iran tan pronto. Siento como me siento, tirando ramas, palos, arboles (que abrazo) como si yo no tenia los huevos para decir lo que quiero y lo que pienso. La Amanda me mira, y yo la miro. Creo que ...

tiritando  tengo frio osea creo que son los nervios  no se porque estoy tan nerviosa broma si lo se tengo este miedo que si te digo todo ya no me vas a querer  no se nada tengo miedo  aqui viene la meli pa hacerme carino un dia escribire sobre ella como me senti cuando nacio ese era el dia que empeze a ver las cosas lindas de la vida y me sorprendio que ya la amaba  recien la conoci y ya  ya la quise  maldito hoy empieza mis clases nunca sabre porque tomo clases cada verano loca aplicada loca en verano  una de mis clases es de philosophia  auxilio  auxilio auxilio 

i want to write fiction this will eventually be a story be patient with my writers block i had a dream about it the other day i have been less tired lately i still listen to 30h3! ramen is waiting for me downstairs with oreos buh bye

Not everything will be like the first time, He told me, and I slowed down. My friend was talking about the fact that he could no longer have a crush on me, but that isn't what made me come to a stop:it was that I realized something(s). Diego is different. We may have a lot in common, but he is not me, and I like that. We think differently, and I like the way he sees things, with his cute eyes.  Although these are incredibly ironically similar situations, they are not the same. Getting to know him two months before I have to leave is deja freaking vu, but wayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy better.  I am falling harder than when I sprained my ankle help me.  So I realize that not everything will be like the first time and that is a good thing. Something that brings me hope and something that I have to keep in mind. Because if it was all the same, with the same rules, same feelings, then it would be boring; it wouldn't be worth it. But this is worth it. Pizza, donuts, and Adam S...

It was a rainy day here in Santiago; and more than that, it was a weird day here in Santiago.  But I don't want to think about things. I want to write.  Guys I just wrote a mini story about a giraffe. It was terrible.  Today, I went to work, talked about not kissing in the rain, ate pan con chancho, helped in a wallet robbery, refused to use an umbrella *I HATE UMBRELLAS*, met new people, was very late to work, ate muffins, washed my hair in the rain, rode the bus, and I FORGOT MY HEADPHONES AT HOME, talked to my mother, actually talked to my mother, about real life, grudgingly used my hair dryer, ate cake at a party, rode the subway, called a boy, walked through the park, and admired the leaves falling like rain. 

The sun,  I stayed up every night, till the birds chirped and the sun rose. Too scared to sleep, to turn off the lights, and my brain. I still don't know why the darkness made me so uneasy, but it was unavoidable, coming every night, and I dreaded it. At times, I still do. The light helped, peaking in though my window, letting me know it was okay now, and that I could close my eyes to rest. The moon,   The time changed a while ago, and now the streets are dark by seven.Sometimes the street lights go out, and it's just me, and the moon. No one else is on the streets, because it's not really that safe to be out. But I take my chances, and know that there are worse places I could be. Everyone warns me. Be careful Megan Megan be careful Megan you have to take care of yourself. I know I do, but that has never been something that I've been very good at. I can walk around like I know the place, tricked into believing I'm not afraid, but I look down at my shadow, to make...