rien ne pèse tant
que un secret.

It's unusually chilly right now.

Culture is something I always keep to myself. From everyone, no exceptions. Roots and hints of Ecuador, Venezuela, Brazil and Argentina sometimes shake my subconscious enough to think a little about me and where I come from. Truth is, the line tying me to my mother culture and tongue is so fragile, it could snap at any moment. I'd never be able to be myself if I ever found my way down to Ecuador to my grandparents or to Venezuela to my awesome uncle. It's a question of many identities crammed inside one person... of many angles and thoughts going in many different directions all at once - like panicked birds taking flight. Roots were not established and connections were broken by death and distance... something I deeply regret even though I'm more than ready to go somewhere else to lay my head on.

Transient.

Dance is the only thing that hints at me being of Latin heritage... aside from the obvious physical features of tan skin, dark hair and eyes. I picked up most what I learned from my sister's dance instructor when I was younger... then later I refined what I knew in the same studio my sister went to.

Assimilating Chicago is easy - be a smartass, loud, sometimes rude, grungy, proud... in the Chicago way... the American way. Ugh.

I think its worth learning Spanish just to understand Calle 13's lyrics... for certain songs that is. See... rarely can a satirical song be as powerful as what he writes but its juxtaposed in strange analogies. It has so many layers, it is difficult to explain. He still has that... snappy, Latin, biting way to express what he wants to say. I'm not going to explain what this particular song is about... you gotta figure it out.

Check it out... it's a good tune even if you don't understand a word of what he's saying.