DOOR: WRITER WITH NO SPELLING
![Image](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh7_MGYWAehV3PYYVfCTV9yoJh4oHWPcxoiW4nLgwTcGNpudGPhvQZAyDU-Xfh4LEOK1B1gdpQ1KSJTEUwaJHbFz6Me1JeGhtw_r5Dr9lj8R8SnB2gTIqRuY_sS0nrlQLiHHMiAh_Jlt1Fd5l0NLBojcaxnnBvIBE3w1LXwQ5izJWSAiFSzHo-pzbOzWM/w400-h274/AHOGADO2.jpg)
Speaking of dreams, one of mine was to write at least one book. The purpose of it was to give me a purpose in life, something that would symbolize a little seed of mine in this world, a footprint on the sands of time. Perhaps something pretentious. Perhaps a pretext to perpetuate myself when I was no more than dust and shadow. In this journey of letters and forms, I have tried to seek excellence, to feel proud of myself for a job well done. However, I have also learned by trial and error that, in spite of my dedication, to make mistakes would be that stamp that, as a human, I would carry in everything I did. As Agent Smith said in The Matrix, “it is inevitable.” Why does it hurt so much to make a mistake? In my case, I do feel pain. It's like when you get your heart broken, you feel something tearing inside you, although your body remains intact. I have even gone through all the stages of grief. Two months ago, when I visited my doctor for a check-up, he asked me, How is your p...