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Thursday, 31 July 2014

DES-ORDEN

"...la vida es una permanente alteración del orden." -Milan Kundera

Lo que me pone a pensar, ¿y si me reinvento toda, todita?

Y es que cuando algo ya está todo establecido, de repente se cae en la rutina y entonces se arriesga que todo se derrumbe.

El orden es lo primero que se pierde cuando hay cambios, sean buenos o malos.

Wednesday, 30 July 2014

AFORISMO 28+28 II

Cuando te veo o te pienso, existo del cuello para abajo.

Tuesday, 29 July 2014

AFORISMO 28 + 28

Todo el tiempo que duró el romance me la pasé tratando de recrear y revivir el sentimiento de ese primer beso.

PASSION / LIFE

 “¿Crees tú también que el sentido de la vida no es otro que la pasión, que un día colma nuestro corazón, nuestra alma, nuestro cuerpo, y que después arde para siempre, hasta la muerte, pase lo que pase? ¿Y que si hemos vivido esa pasión quizás no hayamos vivido en vano? ¿Que así de profunda, así de malvada, así de grandilocuente, así de inhumana es una pasión?... ¿y que quizás no se concrete en una persona en concreto, sino en el deseo mismo?”. -Sándor Márai

Debe ser, porque amor no es. Algo así nunca había sentido. Y escucho las canciones de amor y no las identifico contigo. Pero pienso en ti y tiemblo y me sacudo (que es lo mismo) y siento los nervios en la piel, siento la electricidad. Pero si no te acabo de ver, si no acabo de recibir un mensaje tuyo, a veces incluso pienso en desecharte, en que sería todo mejor sin ti, en que una vida contigo (porque inevitablemente pienso en vidas con todo el mundo) sería imposible, jamás podría confiar en ti, en alguien como tú. Y sin embargo no quiero a nadie, no quiero otra opción, no quiero promesas de nadie ni de nada, ¿para qué? Para que las rompan luego con esa sutil alegría de "nada es eterno" "nada es para siempre" y yo ya sabía, pero me aferraba, por la promesa, por el sueño, por la ilusión, pero tú no prometiste. Es más me ofreciste lo que siempre había odiado, rechazado, rehuido: la incertidumbre. Dijiste simple y sencillamente, -O bueno, no sé.
Y me quedé. ¿Por qué? Todavía no sé.
Y no quiero un futuro contigo.
Y no sé qué quiero.
Y sí quiero un futuro cercano contigo, quiero tiempo en francés contigo, quiero un future proche
No sé y no me importa mi vejez, no sé si me interesa seguir de la mano cuando seamos ancianos, (prefiero no pensar en mí de anciana, no hay nada más deprimente a mi edad que pensar en la incipiente vejez.) Solo quiero una noche más, que avance hasta hacerse de mañana, hasta que los pájaros nos delaten una vez más y no quiero caer en rutinas y no quiero no saber qué va a pasar y no quiero caer en posesividad ni en celos, ni en dudas ni en recriminaciones, pero no quiero no volverte a ver. Y sé que así va a ser un día, pero no quiero que pase todavía. Quiero despertar un día en muchos años después de ti y recordarte y sonreír y prender la computadora y escribir un capítulo más de nuestra historia repasando un diario viejo.

This ain't no fairy tale. Therefore it won't have a happy ending. It's enough it won't be a tragic ending.

Monday, 28 July 2014

GARANTÍA DE CADUCIDAD

Hay palabras que no se deberían decir
Hay declaraciones que no deberían de tener caducidad
Pero la única garantía es que todo expira

ASÍ SOY

Esta rumia es lo que me hace escribir
esta intensidad es lo que me hace sufrir
y sin ellas no soy nada
alguna vez intenté la sanidad
veía todo con claridad
No había gran sensualidad
Todo era banalidad
y escribía de hechos, de causalidad
horas y fechas
con disciplina pristina
y entonces dejé de escribir
Tengo miedo de que cada vez sea la última
No puedo hablar a futuro
Siento que no tengo derecho
Por eso me limito o mejor dicho, me extralimito
a gozar al máximo cada cita
contigo siento que es mi último día
y quiero explotar hasta tu último aliento
hasta tu último beso.

Tuesday, 22 July 2014

MALDITO SILENCIO O MAU TENÍA RAZÓN

Cuando una se alimenta de palabras, qué difícil es soportar el silencio.
Es como un síndrome de abstinencia, como un proceso fuerte de desintoxicación.
Puede llevar al total desapego.
Pero mientras tanto produce incertidumbre y desaliento.

Friday, 11 July 2014

THE BACKGROUND STORY

So far I've known quite a lot of adulterers really. I thought I had met only two, but actually I have dated two, I slept with another, my ex was another and even my father was another. So this gets interesting. When I decided to date the first one I was thinking on the experience, on the investigation, on the learning that was behind him and what could make me really fall for him. I didn't. Not for the first, but for the second. It's interesting because I was starting to weave a background net to explain their behavior, but realizing that there had been others made me question this. Not all their stories are the same... so far. Maybe I should still research into their hearts. There must be something.
Initially I had thought this was related to their mothers and fathers. At least sample 1 and 2 had similar stories in that sense. But, when I realized my father, my ex and my first one-night stand could also be considered study cases I was not so sure.
Let me lay my case.
There are five study cases:
father
daughter's father
one-night stander
sample 1
sample 2
Let's avoid names.
Based on mothers and fathers there must be something I ignore about my grandparents because there was a solid relationship. It was not exactly tender, they had their frictions, but they remained together till the end and my grandfather never betrayed my grandmother nor her him. There was no real mistreatment, just a lot of bullying from my grandfather and a lot of holding from my grandma. Mhm!
Daughter's father: Again his parents were a solid couple. As a matter of fact an exemplary one. The father there supported his wife through Alzheimer's until her death and although it was excruciating and he occasionally complained, he never thought about quitting and he looked after her tenderly. His wife was jealous and could be infuriating, there were plenty of anecdotes, but he was the most handsome man for her.
One-night stander let me see through his story through a couple of comments he dropped by when I wanted to see him for a second time. He rejected a second encounter with the argument that he couldn't be the man his father had been. He couldn't do to his children what his father had done to him and his siblings. He never mentioned his mother, he just had this deep rancour against his father. He also resented his wife. He had to stay with her because she "got pregnant". Like magic, I guess, spontaneously. I'm sure he was wearing a condom, he insisted in wearing one, but she was just mean. Aha. I am being sarcastic.
Sample 1 mentioned a father who used to hide in hotels with women other than his mother, more than once. Sample 1 once caught him and it was not nice, he talked about it in a funny-sad kind of voice. He loves his mother deeply, and she is terribly sick and now old. Still living with his father. He feels very deeply for her. He talks about her with all the tenderness he is capable of, and that is not much. He resents his wife, they don't have much of a relationship any more, in any level. That's what he says. That's what they always say.
Sample 2 is the one who has talked more about his past. Sample 1 and  One-night stander were sincere with me from moment 1. One-night stander had his children on his screen on his desk and he told me openly he was married. Sample 1 told me he was married and he only wanted to have sex with me. One-night stander happened and it was wild and passionate. Sample 1 was accepted after I carefully thought about the experience. It happened and even although it was not completely accomplished, it was pretty good. Sample 2 was more manipulative and a bit mean in all his charm. Sample 2 appeared out of the blue and after four dreamy dates he decided to confess he lived with someone and that he had a daughter. He seemed really sad. He was never mean about his wife, he was just visibly bored and he said he didn't plan to leave her because they had lived many things that attached them, he didn't promise me anything, he didn't offer me anything, he just wanted a relationship, he even said we could leave sex off, he said he was very happy with me, just chatting. It ached me to see his attitude. This is the first time I actually care for the wife. Sample 2 is more complex than the others. He has me hooked in many levels. His father left them for another family and it seems the off spring of both women even mingled. He hated his half-brothers and he punched them constantly. He witnessed a weakened mother who was left alone to struggle to make ends meet and raise three children. He had to work to study a career and he has succeeded, but he feels hatred for his father. He seems confused about what he wants. He doesn't want to brake anyone's heart, but I'm afraid he is just collecting hearts to brake, including his. It feels as if he is ready to flee any minute. He just wants to leave everything and start afresh somewhere new. Right now I'm not so sure he is so mean as I was when I started writing this. I must confess complexity is quite attractive for someone like me.

LOVER WANTED

Se busca lector asiduo. De literatura, acaso de filosofía. Lectores de libros de auto ayuda absténganse.
Se busca amante aventurero que se atreva a amar a una sola mujer de mil -o más- modos diferentes.
Se busca uno alto, bajo, delgado, gordo, de buen corazón y mejor talante.
Se busca atleta que se rehuse a ver deportes desde la cama con botanas.
Se busca emprendedor que sepa lo que quiere y vaya por ello sin esperar a que la oportunidad toque a su puerta.
Se busca víctima que haya sufrido, pero que haya aprendido, y siga adelante.
Se busca trabajador incansable que también sepa descansar y gozar sin hacer absolutamente nada.
Se busca degustador de café negro, cerveza oscura y chocolate oscuro.
Se busca bebedor excesivamente moderado de whiskey, vodka y vino.
Se busca contemplador de amaneceres ocasionales.
Se busca dormilón profundo a causa del cansancio del buen amor.
Se busca amigo de animales: de gatos, perros, niños y adolescentes inquietos y odiosos.
Se busca repartidor obsceno de caricias, besos y abrazos.
Se busca inquisidor e impulsor de sueños, ambiciones y proyectos.
Se busca apoyo de libertad.

Thursday, 10 July 2014

RESOLUTION

I can't avoid the thought flow. I can't avoid remembering. I can't hurt like I was hurt. Maybe not now, maybe not soon, but I'll end this relationship. I'll just let it die cowardly by just not doing a thing to keep it alive. I texted the last thousand kisses from my part. He hasn't answered yet. He will. I won't answer. I won't ask him when will we meet again. I won't insist. I might not resist for long, but then again may be I will. I'm not even sure this is love. Who am I kidding? It's not. It's totally different. It had it's peak, now it's declining. I must confess it was a rather short addiction.
I need my really major dose from across the sea. I know I won't have it anymore, but once I did, and then I was really happy. I hope he is.

Wednesday, 9 July 2014

MISSING YOUR SWEET THOUSAND KISSES

If I die because you haven't texted me, how will I feel later?
Tiene razón, Mau. Soy de comunicarme y si no te comunicas esto no va a funcionar.
¡No! Really? As if I didn't know this is so headed to disaster.

Tuesday, 8 July 2014

ACLARACIÓN

Love is not lust,
although they both tend to rust.
He lusts for me,
although I'd rather have him lost for me.
Or maybe not.
Love seems so far fetched right now, so out of reach.
And then again when I'm with him, I glow with glee.

Monday, 7 July 2014

THE STAGES OF CHOCOLATE I IGNORED

I have liked chocolate always, since I remember it has always been there. When I met Willy Wonka and his great expertisse in the transformation of plain cocoa beans into exquisite mouthwatering chocolate through the wonderfully scrumptious descriptions of Roald Dahl I started wetting my mouth each time I read about chocolate and an urge was born. One day I discovered the delectable taste of dark chocolate and I started the affair of my life. That is until I met Mr. Charming.
There was just another one who gifted me with the delicacies of chocolate, of course. There was the gentle giant of across the waters, the kind Englishman who offered me the Turkish Delight along with many other samples of tasty chocolate morsels, who on special occasions sent me dark chocolate from Cadbury's to celebrate life and the joy of knowing and sharing a very special relationship. Of course I remember, of course I will never forget. He has a most special place in my heart.
But Mr. Charming, from just across the city is much nearer my home. How things happened will be decided over time. For the moment we have an affair, how long will it last, we still don't know. But, right now, what matters is chocolate and how he uses it. Once, during pizza and beer we discussed chocolate, or rather I brought up my love for it. He paid attention. That's something that seduces, men paying attention.
The next time we met he asked me, "Remember when you told me you loved chocolate?"
"Yes." I nodded.
"Well, what is there in the car door's pocket?"
There were two packages of Lindt chocolate, not just any chocolate, one was 70% cocoa and the other 90% of rich, dark, and elegant chocolate. I was surprised. I took them with delight.
"And, do you know what it means to give chocolate?" He asked with a mischievous and lusty look.
"No..." I said in a dubious tone.
"That I want to have sex with you. And do you know what it means to accept the chocolate?"
"That I accept?" I answered quite certain.
"Yes." He said and he kissed me.
Just that day a few hours before I had received chocolate from my best friend who is gay and who I'm certain doesn't want to have sex with me.
Just a couple of minutes ago I was eating a piece of the 90% chocolate and as it melted in my mouth and gently slipped down my throat, I playfully texted my lover, "What is it supposed to mean when I actually eat the chocolate?"
A few minutes later, just when my boss had left he texted me back, "That you accept to have sex with me for the rest of life."
Although I know love and lust never last for so long I smiled. It's nice to be so desired. Did I say he is younger than me?

Thursday, 3 July 2014

CELOS

Y cuando me dijo, -Me preguntó qué iba a hacer este fin de semana...- sentí una punzada espantosa. No se supone que le importe qué va a hacer nadie el fin de semana. ¿O sí?
No quiero, no quiero, no quiero.
Era parte de no volver a tener nada con nadie, no quiero volver a sentir esa inseguridad, esa desazón, ese dolor, esa puñalada. Estar del otro lado, tener la otra experiencia es para evitar eso. Al no tener la     obligación ni el derecho, al pretender la libertad quería no sentir eso, porque se supone que entonces yo era el motivo, yo era quien lo causa, no quien lo sufre ni quien lo padece. Pero tal vez no, tal vez me está dando una cubetada de realidad fría y amarga como la cerveza. Ya dejé de tomar café negro, ¿tendré que dejar de tomar cerveza oscura? De todos modos, no salgo perdiendo por dejar de tomar eso. Pero si esto sigue así, vuelvo a perder todo. Y mis pérdidas no son económicas, son de paz. No quiero perder mi paz. Ya me dolió mucho el corazón en el pasado.

ESTA MAÑANA

Al despertar me sorprendió la fuerza de mi bostezo,
la urgencia de mi desperezo.
Me encontré demasiado larga y pesada,
lenta y relajada,
muy mullida y cálida
arropada en esa piel anaranjada y rayada.
Me levanté a beber
y sonreí de lado
cuando en el lago
alcancé a ver
mis enormes ojos amarillos
delineados en negro y blanco.
Apoyada en mis enormes y fuertes patas
caminé y salté hacia la roca lisa
con sensualidad, sin prisa.
No está mal esto que ha pasado, pensé y me acosté a tu lado.

Wednesday, 2 July 2014

MIL BESOS

Solo pregunto,
¿Me vas a mandar mil besos cada noche?

Tuesday, 1 July 2014

LOS BESOS QUE SE QUEDARON ATORADOS

Teníamos que hablar.
Teníamos que acordar.
Teníamos que decidir.
Pero yo me la pasaba viendo tu boca.
Y tú la mía.
Y me tocabas con el pulgar la palma de la mano.
Y luego yo tocaba la tuya con el mío.
Y fingíamos no saber qué hacer.
Pero las manos, los ojos, las bocas sabían lo que querían.
Y me dejaste en la puerta.
Y apenas nos rozamos con los labios.
(Gran mentira sí nos besamos con pasión minutos antes.)
Y nos faltaron muchos, pero muchos besos.
Mil siguen siendo pocos.

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Palabras que fluyen, huyen y en algún lado tienen que acabar.