Life can be ironic but irony can also be life. This is Aliana’s predicament and not just her predicament but the predicament of her friends. Lets start with A. A is for Aliana. I have not been praying lately, I know that I should and I desperately need to but can’t seem to bring myself to do so. G got played and guess what it was a desi guy, a Pakistani to be exact thus proving me right – again. At least she knows what she is looking for, as for me I gave up long time ago. L has stopped writing to me but I am going to be equally stubborn and not write her back. Well what can I do? This is the way I am. J thinks that’s she can out stubborn me, guess what sister, I am the best when it comes to stubbornness. I hope there was more certainty in life. But life doesn’t work like that does it? I don’t like finding out my dependencies and when I do I have to make sure that I have to make sure that I am no longer dependent upon them. In the process I always get hurt, sometimes even severely. And with Z, well I wish for once Zeb could try to be herself.

By Frederico Garcia Lorca

I have shut my windows.
I do not want to hear the weeping.
But from behind the grey walls,
Nothing is heard but the weeping.

There are few angels that sing.
There are few dogs that bark.
A thousand violins fit in the palm of the hand.
But the weeping is an immense angel.
The weeping is an immense dog.
The weeping is an immense violin.
Tears strangle the wind.
Nothing is heard but the weeping.

Translated from Spanish by Kenneth Rexroth