Am finding my self increasingly at odds with english. It used to be that I couldn’t utter a description without relying on english. English was my palette and like most languages, when used for writing, the phenomenological called on me in the tongue of the Bard. It’s a supernatural high to be able to inmerse oneself in the portrait one is deeply convinced its capturable in words, its aura emulates the spiritual in some queer way.
Nowadays I go days without writing a single line in english. I try to understand why is this so and it usually boils down to lack of reading. Reading tends to spark my imagination.
Most monolinguals will find this confesion a tad irrelevant since most people don’t bother too much about the burble that comes out of their mouth, bilinguals on the other hand have linguistic crisis such as mine. I am not exagerating when I say crisis. English is one of those languages that helped me see the world the way I see it now. However, ever since I opened this blog spanish has managed to capture the very fabric of a long neglected aspect of myself and I have been having trouble letting go. There are counted posts in this blog that are written in english. It used to be that there where certain semantic fields in spanish that were devoid of any use. This greatly bothered me and I tried to remedy this with unsuccesful means. This blog remedied that and I believe that the time is ripe. It took nearly two years and a half. I believe that within the next few months, say 3 to 5 months, I will have achieved a linguistic balance.
It took me many years to achieve this and though I am afraid to use the word master in conjuction with language I am willing to assert: domino el español y el inglés, and that my friends, is no small feat.