Can You Use A Temporary Id To Drink

A bit of bad feeling I have a vision

This is a book that, in reality, they are 2. If you get cancer and bad feeling raw writing, you can forget the start and jump to page 133. From there, start the "Other travel" and the thing goes backpacking with a touch of trans-and intersex: a good dose of Argentina least known to tourists, a pinch of social work in Nicaragua or a fully fledged chute Ayurvedic Cures in India. Almost 200 pages devoted to better know yourself out of travel around the world. Come on, a quiet read like a Sunday supplement travel.

As mine are hard drugs, the focus review only the first part, Language cell (Trojan Horse, 2010) itself.

Those first 133 pages are a collection of texts Nacho Gallego (Madrid, 1971 - Zamora, 2007) wrote while he was ill and left unfinished when he had to leave the feast of the living. They detected a testicular cancer, or so I understand I-at age 24, I healed and whores chances of statistics, was part of 0.05% of people who suffer a recurrence. Every 3 years had a relapse and the latter is not recovered. In between all this hard work was put together existential courage, humility and courage, and lived. He also found comfort in devoting a lot of hours reading and writing.

Good thinking, has egg-and-never better what this guy: If you know that death sneaks up on you, what is the point of losing time reading Borges's stories, poems of Jorge Calvetti, let you touch Gioconda Belli a book or read Eduardo Galeano to understand that the English did not do in America what the priests told us in school? I mean, this system from all angles conspire precisely to the contrary ... And go and see a guy like Nacho Gallego, which fights the expiration date your life as you against your boss for a raise, and decides to read. Also write. And to let some texts more or less breading testify, as claimed by its editor, has not lived in vain. Olé

his balls.

What better way to undo the lie of the land of the healthy telling stories that will prepare us to experience the journey of life in all its dimensions.

literature as a tool to live with greater intensity: here is one of the lessons of these pages. In a world full of superficial self-help speeches, empty sentimental poetry and prose avant-garde or seller of CrecePelo refining, relieves meet the honesty Language cell, resulting in loosely organized some of its passages. And the story is that everything is crossed by the highest literary tension: we live to die. (The rest are distractions that would Kafka).

Nacho Gallego's greatness is that even throws low blows. No gloating in his skull beardless, in vomiting or the "wide range of failures" that have their meat due to an adenocarcinoma. Neither sells a speech that could serve to overcome the managers of multinationals to harangue his troops. The greatness of this anonymous guy is trying to enjoy here and now of his life: making coffee, the book read, his loneliness, the caress of his girlfriend, transfomer the world around him into a more habitable. To live, in short, this time (a poem by José Ángel Valente, certainly, subscribe Nacho).

These pages are not great literature, if by this we understand the mannerisms to use a few days excite the avant-garde gafapasta and others, the aristocracy of the appointment reassuring humanist. Moreover, and to know your editor, Constantino Bertolo, I can say that there is not even literature, because that's the point of which has not, for the world (literary or not) is saturated with puns, interested ellipsis of worn metáforas que velan la realidad para manipularla a beneficio de alguna cuenta corriente.

Lo que sí hay en el Lenguaje de las células es verdad. Una verdad que irradia un tipo que vive con el deseo ferviente de arder, no de consumirse. Alguien preocupado, además de por convivir con la rebeldía de los oncogenes, por rebelarse contra otra enfermedad, una enfermedad más grave aún que el cáncer y que ha infectado a buena parte de la sociedad occidental: durar como sinónimo de vivir. En estos blandos tiempos donde el negocio es comprar y vender felicidad satisfaciendo necesidades ficticias, va y resulta que las células tienen planes propios respecto de la estrella del horóscopo: nuestra salud.

Vivir, no durar.

Arder, no consumirse.

Con el dolor le ocurría como con el amor: no había nada que él pudiera hacer, tan sólo esperar a que pasara el pico de intensidad, sucumbir a cada arremetida.

Leídas esas 30 palabras, alcanza para comprender que Nacho Gallego sobrevivió al descenso al infierno y supo tocar el éxtasis con los dedos. Supo en qué consistía la soledad de ser hombre. Y eso ni lo cura la quimioterapia ni lo atenúan narcóticos como la Dolantina . Con todo, el bueno de Nacho todavía tiene arrestos para ironizar sobre ello y dejarnos entrever que, para películas en alta definición y sensaciones 3D, la vida:

to body odor was different: "Your pillow smells burnt," Ale said he slept beside her, she was the only one who was touching her body as if it is not reduced to a bag of fluids and liquids. Had a chance, Joan would have changed by another in the nearest store: "I am a clean, no drugs, please," he would joke with Ale.

So write and live the brave.

Amen.

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PD. Here can read a few pages of the book. Latest

feathers