danny

well, i let her depart. i sent her away. i’m sitting, among my camels and zippos, drinking very good venezuelan coffee, and waiting.

the chair is comfortable, the light is good, it is a wonderful day. really nice. i see through the window, a bright sun, but i know…

but i know it will rain. it will rain softly at the beginning, and then a little less softly. winds will start breeziong around, clouds will move around. the sound of rain will start to rattle around over roofs and cars, dark clouds gathering all over the not-so-blue sky. then it’ll start thundering and lightning. raindrops will become harder, and will start hurting. heavens will transform into an amorphous revolting mass of black and dark. animals and men will run into their dwellings, scared. winds will strike it all and all, with their most inmense fury. sea waves of many heights will come over this land, looking for their ever unclaimed territory and our lives. the sky will be a blazing image of fire and water, a storm like in biblical days. hail will strike the floor, winds will blow everything away in a tornado. fire, water and wind will take everything down, it’ll all be gone…

then, it’ll calm. softly, the thundering noise will dissappear, and some sunrays will strike from in between the clouds. the sky will become blue again, and orange in the sunset. peace and calm will be around again.

but then, perhaps she might come back, before the rain and the winds, before it feels like a thousand days away…

i picture her as i ever have.

she’s lying beside me, half her upper naked body on my chest, soft blue panties worn, facing me, silently eyes shut, simulating a sleep. i face up, arm around her neck and hands all over her hair, softly playing dreamly songs on it.

she dreams of what’s to happen, i dream of what we have.

she suddenly shivers, and i do too. future can be uncertain as the next corner and thief, but there’s certainty in moments like this. after all, it now seems like there’s nothing we don’t already have. utter bliss made a kitsch picture of two people embracing and clinging to a perfect picture of the infinite through the very inmense moment of being one and two, but being one, nevertheless.

she looks at me, chuckling and moans something that sounds like peaches and cream. i answer with a single nod and a smile that could comprise the whole universe in it, but small as a shamrock in the grass.

and we both know, quietly and to ourselves… life cannot be better than this. but it is after all.

lei forse non ha ancora un volto preciso, uno sguardo conosciuto, ma il suo sorriso sembra il cielo in una stanza…

las nubes son como el agua, pero con individualidad.

es mas facil la metafora asi.

al final, para mi, es sencillo:

somos uno y somos dos, pero estamos hecho de la misma sustancia, aunque nos veamos diferentes.

ayer soñé contigo.

soñé que eras una nube, que venías a visitarme.

soñé que te abrías paso por el cielo, lentamente, sin apuro. soñé que venías por mí.

soñé que me arropabas, que yo me volvía parte de esa nube.

el cielo se tornaba una gran nube, el cielo encapotado, tú y yo.

soñé que tu y yo eramos una nube.

there are days that just make sense. you wake up thinking it’ll be another day, and for the most of it, it is. you wash yourself, brush your teeth, start working… things go smooth, but not that much. you run out of coffe. bummer. you take a shower, a normal one.

food tastes like food, not more not less. coke is as good as it always have been. then you remeber a call, an appointment. you don’t feel like going, but you do go. short visit, not much to say, but to catch up.

a sudden invitation. you’re tired. you go nonetheless.

and then, things are wonderful again. absolute bliss.

boy, what a day. human nature, i guess.

wonderful human nature.

… d’essere stato in vacanza da me stesso.

so i came back with a lot to say

after all, said/done/lived, i finally agree with myself. it is easier to be acid, to be raw and crude. but straight and sincere at the same time.

it takes people’s attitudes off of your back(pack). it gives you freedom to feel what you want to feel, be responsible for it and even bend forward for a kiss or run in any direction shall a clenched fist approach. it lets other people to deal with their scheize, and usually gives you more time alone to deal with yours.

though perceived as rude and usually frowned upon, it actually is a win/win situation.

where was i? i can’t remember
with whom? presumably alone
at whose’s place? a the angel of oblivion’s house

and it felt right. and it burnt like fire.

harto de vueltas y harto de juegos. la vida se va mientras pretedemos aún, apenas, precariamente tener el control.

mierda, pretendemos!

hay veces en que hay que frenar de golpe, llorar y patalear, pero asumir. asumir que es toda una gran fantasía. sino por valor o por madurez, por miedo a despertarnos un día con las muñecas rojas y la angustia de no saber ni siquiera qué paso dar para acercarnos más al vacío.

sabes? los cables que tenemos en la cabeza se recalientan. mejor tú para saberlo que nadie, con tu profesión de pelacables.

y luego se derriten. y todo huele a cable quemado.

a veces no te huele a cable quemado?

bueno, es una pista….