Soldado de mierda

carteles familia mundo nino poniendo lugar soldado eeuu mierda desmotivaciones

 Hace 6 meses que no sé nada de ti. Te he escrito varias cartas, pero no recibo ninguna respuesta. Creo que no sabes ni la ciudad exacta en donde estoy y no me extraña, porque de hecho, ni yo sé donde estamos ahora con plena exactitud. Solamente veo campo, edificios destruidos, aviones pasando por encima de mi cabeza, y mucho, mucho ruido. Ya no consigo diferenciar los misiles de tanques de los de un lanza-granadas. Mis oídos y mi cabeza se están dando por vencidos en esta maldita guerra.

Puede que no quieras saber nada de mí y tires esta carta a la basura en cuanto la recibas. Quiero que me perdones por no haber sido el hombre que te mereces, pero antes de sacarte de mi cabeza por completo, tengo que decirte lo importante que fuiste para mí. Lejos de tu lado, es cuando realmente he abierto los ojos y todo avanza a cámara lenta, siendo más fácil fijarme en los pequeños detalles que antes no percibía y en los que te fallé.

He caminado mucho en esta larga travesía. Las botas las tengo llenas barro y desde hace varios días no me las quito, porque en cualquier momento puede aparecer el enemigo, dibujado con tu rostro. Es duro caminar cientos de kilómetros y no poder quitarme tu presencia de mi cabeza. No me malinterpretes, no me gustaría que salieras de ella nunca, pero desde que salí de aquella casa a la que llamábamos hogar, me siento tan perdido que me cuesta concentrarme y disparar un buen tiro.

Cada vez estamos más cerca del objetivo, y eso hace que me entre más miedo, pues hay muchos enemigos deseando de capturarnos. Tengo una foto tuya pegada en mi casco, y siempre que descanso unos minutos me paro a mirarte y a recordar nuestras anécdotas, cómo la de la tarta sin nata, la del mosquito del viaje a Portugal, la del faro que alumbraba nuestro horizonte..

No sé si te acuerdas del día que me alisté para luchar por nuestro país, pero hay varios motivos que no supe explicarte en ese momento. Al perder de vista tus ojos, pensé que la única forma de recuperarte, era ser un héroe y quizás así podría intentar volver a tu lado, pero ahora me doy cuenta de la estupidez que hice, pues un héroe no solo es el que va la guerra y la lleva a la victoria. Sino también lo es el que consigue evitar que haya una guerra. Y contigo, no pude evitarla.

Me arrepiento de haber tenido tantos errores, pero tú para mí fuiste la mejor versión que me pudiste dar. Todo fue exactamente como una película. Me hiciste sentir como el hombre más afortunado y más amado del planeta. Esa sonrisa y esos besos eran mis motivos para levantarme cada mañana y son los motivos que tengo para regresar a tu lado, aunque hay mínimas esperanzas.

Hace mucho tiempo que no te llamo cariño, pero daría todo por volvértelo a decir, aunque siento que ya nunca más voy a volver a verte. Mañana tengo una misión casi imposible, donde debemos de conquistar un punto de control donde hay bastantes enemigos y el acceso es realmente complicado. Hemos perdido a nuestro capitán hace unos días y tenemos al mando a alguien que no sé si realmente sabe lo que está haciendo, pero es más rango y tengo que obedecer las órdenes. Lo que quiero que entiendas es que si recibes esta carta, es posible que no haya sobrevivido y por ello me gustaría que supieras que serás la última persona que pasarás por mi cabeza antes de abandonar este mundo.

Recuérdame siempre: Tu soldado de mierda.



What are readers saying about Irma’s Endgame

What if the human heart was not just a mechanical pump in the body, an organ with purely physiological properties? What if it were something altogether more complex and mysterious?
When renowned transplant surgeon Peter Dayton removes the heart from the victim of a road traffic accident, Lexi Parkhouse, and transplants it into the dying body of Jeffrey Kincaide, a chain of events is set in motion with devastating consequences. In the sumptuous Bel Air mansion that is home to the wealthy Kincaide family, the couple’s previous domestic harmony turns sour as Jeffrey recuperates with his new heart. Initially overcome with gratitude at the miraculous intervention that saved her husband’s life, Amelia Kincaide, becomes increasingly disturbed by what she perceives as abnormal changes in him, changes that inspire suspicion and hatred. At the same time, Lexi’s grieving widower, Randolf Parkhouse, is struggling unsuccessfully to get over the loss of the woman he loved. In an attempt find solace, he starts to explore far-fetched, quasi-spiritual notions about communion with the dead, becoming gradually convinced that he is still somehow connected to his wife, whose presence lingers on earth through the heart which now beats in the chest of Randolf.
Unaware of all this, surgeon Peter Dayton continues to operate. He is a man who, on the surface, has everything–money, prestige, a brilliant career and international reputation–but, apart from his job and his affection for his dog, Bella, he is carrying out a meaningless existence in a loveless marriage, consumed by regret for the woman he loved and lost years ago through his own bad choices. Unknown to him, that woman, Irma Mullins, is about to enter his life once more when she opens a newspaper and reads that her former lover has been arrested on charges of killing one of his patients. ‘Involuntary manslaughter…’ Shocked to the core, Irma has no doubt as to her ex-lover’s innocence, and, convinced he is the victim of a vendetta, determines to clear his name.
What starts as a classic, suspenseful whodunnit gradually turns into something far more complex and multi-layered. Author Paulette Mahurin puts her characters under the microscope, scrutinising what is going on in their ‘hearts’ in the wider sense of the term, dissecting in forensic detail the way they live, their innermost feelings and passions, how their backgrounds have shaped their personalities, the motivations behind their behaviour and, more immediately, their reactions as events unfold with a frightening inevitability, sweeping them along like a flash flood. The tempestuous rumblings in their personal stories are eerily mirrored in what is happening on a planetary scale. Global political and economic upheaval, growing social divides in Western societies, the devastation raging in war torn countries, the apparent increase in extreme weather events–all these contribute to an ominous feeling that the world is off kilter, out of balance, chaotic. We sense that things are slipping beyond our control, our belief in the rational, the scientific, the provable, is shaken, our certainties over-turned. As Irma remarks, becoming more and more stressed by the agonising drag of the legal process and the seeming impossibility of altering its course, it is ‘like trying to mold pottery with over-wet material while in handcuffs.’ The tension builds as the characters react to the growing pressure (I found myself experiencing sympathetic stomach pains), with even those most convinced of Peter’s innocence, including himself, beginning to have doubts.
By crafting such detailed portraits of her characters and their growing emotional turmoil, Mahurin anchors her story in the real, the every-day, and is thus able to give credibility to the incredible, when at last Irma’s team begin to make progress, discovering a thread which, unbelievable as it may appear, offers a chance of building a solid case in Pete’s defence: ‘a small, barely visible thread that (leads) to a Sherman tank.’
It’s impossible to do justice to all the admirable qualities of this author’s latest work in a short review. Suffice it to say that that ‘Irma’s Endgame’ is one of those books which not only keeps us captivated until the last page, but also prompts us to ask questions about our own lives, the mistakes we make, the paths we choose and their validity, and our dimly perceived apprehension of the greater truth behind Hamlet’s words: ‘There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamed of in your philosophy.’

The Persecution of Mildred Dunlap

It’s always a nerve-racking time for an author when a new book is released. A few reviews are in for my new book,  Irma’s Endgame, and I’m happy to say the responses are favorable. With all my profits going to help get dogs out of kill shelters, I am especially invested in promoting my books to help achieve freedom for as many dogs as possible. Not an easy feat when two are freed and three dumped into the shelters. The demand far outweighs the resources. This is not just with dogs in kill shelters but so many others (animals and humans) in dire help of needing assistance. One simple act change change a life. And so it is with this intent, I share my blog posts, promote my books, and brave my self-consciousness. Amazon promotes books based on sales and number of reviews. I humbly and wholeheartedly ask you, my…

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We Will Wait

Trailer: AMOR ETERNO (18+) from oslo/fusion film fest on Vimeo.

Broche De Oro, Corazones, Separador, Remolinos

Time divides

Our parallel lives

Morning shares words with the night

The value of words has never been higher

There is balance in the uniting of hearts

Lessens the angst of ways parted

A divine clock keeps our appointed meetings scheduled

We revel in each moment, brief or extended

Someday the clock will stop permanently

Night and day will be within the same view

The moment will become lifelong

Until then, we will wait….for each other

We will wait

Analogías del Amor