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The whole point of this writing-subway-exercise is to document the interesting things happening in the undergrounds of New York City but it´s obvious I'm missing it.I know, I'm going to look round, grab an image and write about it.Why is she thinking on buying something here and not there? One because is cheaper here and two because she was able to save money there.People in Colombia don´t tend to spend a lot on credit cards (or maybe just my mom). It limits you, it defines you and sometimes that´s good but not today.Although I have to thank them because there noisy presence is helping me camouflage my phone. I keep imagining that night when these ¨dudes¨ decided to get together to not only share some bread and wine but also to have a meaningful moment. I´m in the L train going home to Brooklyn right now.So far no one is getting offended by my (typing) actions. It was a creative act that made every little detail something very special. It´s passed PM and I just bought myself an Oscar de La Renta bathrobe for only .Here I am, in this massive building feeling tiny and insignificant, typing on my phone. I wish some teachers at SVA were able to understand that.My Bb cost my a few A's during college for its ability to work as my notebook (and more). As I stare at the organized system they have here I feel the need to ask God for forgiveness. No one can move organically or feel alive in an environment like this, at least not me, neither (my) God.

This subway-ride home is filled with numbers and useless thoughts about a topic I know nothing about: Economics. The first thing that came to mind when I thought of this writing exercise was a title. She is screaming out of her ears that I'm being gross, disrespectful that I'm even contaminating the air she's breathing with the minuscules particles released by my brush. The lovers on the other hand are usually very nice. They cannot believe you are applying make-up in a moving train or they think you look pretty just they way you are. If you were to take a picture of the people in the subway (in the morning) it would probably look like a funeral. As I stop typing for a second and look around now I noticed a more positive energy. The two people I went with stepped out of the theater because they were falling asleep.Gracias- The bellow was written last Sunday - I'm not writing from the subway today, I'm writing from St. A friend and I decided to come to the last Spanish Mass before Christmas and even though I understand every single word the priest is saying it´s been hard for me to get into it.I´m not connecting with the moment, there are too many distractions inside (of my mind) and outside (tourists) so I decided to write something down and......Many times teachers thought I was texting when I was actually taking notes (most of the time). God is just as bored as me right now (ahhhhwwwwhhhh - yawning). Such a controlled (Mass) celebration feels so far away from me that only this writing-moment is bringing me back to God, to the creative light within.Since I was little the Communion was one of my favorite parts of the Mass not only because it meant it was almost over and the obleas were waiting for us outside but also (because for me) it's one of the most dynamic and organic moments.

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