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IN LOVING MEMORY OF
Tiffany Taylor Chan
El pasado mes de Enero, estuve en los servicios funerarios de una de las mejores amigas de mi hijo Andrew. Tanto así, que él fue uno de los que elogio su amistad desde temprana edad escolar en los salones del “Stanley G. Oswalt Academy”, hasta seguir manteniéndola a través de los estudios universitarios.
Su trágico fallecimiento nos impactó de sobremanera y queremos compartir como tributo a Tiffany, uno de sus preferidos poemas que escribió hace unos años.
Es importante que las generaciones del pasado siglo, sepan escuchar y entender los pensamientos e inquietudes de nuestros hijos en el mundo actual que vivimos;
Saber cuando realmente podemos ayudar, o simplemente ser ayudados.
Lucid Dreaming
By: Tiffany Chan
Reality is a nightmare.
People everywhere, young and old, struggle for an escape,
to wake up in the empyrean.
We judge others,
when our hypocritical ideals are contradicted daily.
We have preconceived notions
and whisper lies about our alleged friends,
when we know nothing of what they endure.
Unknowingly or not,
we point out their insecurities,
as if they’re not constantly aware of their own faults.
We give condescending remarks,
reducing them to nothing but unsatisfactory deception.
Do you know what it’s like to stare at a mirror and cry,
to step on a scale and lose your appetite,
to need to hold a blade to your skin to escape the pain,
to stand on the precipice and imagine the damage it
would do to jump?
Do you know what it’s like to face death
and not want to save yourself, could you have?
We see people we love suffer and close our eyes.
We choose to ignore them.
We choose to pretend everything is okay.
We can’t keep putting a blind eye to reality!
I have my own dream.
I have hope that we can abandon our ignorant beliefs.
I have hope that we can remove the plank in our own eyes,
before trying to remove the speck of dust in someone else’s.
I have hope that nothing besides helpful, uplifting love
will pour from our lips.
I believe that one day we can be blind to these facades
we all put up,
but not blind to each other’s hearts.
I believe that one day we can all look into the mirror,
look past the reflection and into our hearts, and love
what we see.
This is the world I see when I close my eyes.
I see a place where our smiles are sincere and tears fall
only from joy.
I see a place where the fog has been cleaned from our
mirrors.
I see a place where our blades have been dulled from
neglect.
This doesn’t have to be a fantasy.
It’s time to open our eyes.
It’s time to take this dystopia into our own hands.
It’s time to become lucid in this nightmare we call the world,
and wake up.
Allan Ortegaray
EditorGeneral@NicasEnElExteriorNews.com
