Quizás aquel que cambia de canal al ver desolación no lo hace porque es deshumano. Quizás es más humano que todos nosotros juntos y sufre tanto al ver todo eso que (en toda su humanidad con toques de divinidad) decide ver otra cosa, para no sentir la compasión de Cristo frente a la multitud desgarrada.
Porque no tiene tiempo para eso y porque tiene suficiente con su miseria personal (guardada en su interior como capital en un banco) es que calla y decide ver una novela basura hasta que el tiempo pase y ya no pueda recordar.
Sufre su soledad todo el tiempo y pensar en ellos -casi tan desvanecidos como su propia realidad- le hace recordar cómo no los puede ayudar, le hace resentir el no ser más valiente y le hace pensar que la magia de un vals no vale más que una despedida bien enunciada o un día de soñar que no se puede morir.
Reflexiona sobre esto mientras su perro se da cuenta de que de él se está hablando y, moviendo el rabo, agradece ser finalmente comprendido.
Monday, July 24, 2006
Sunday, July 23, 2006
consideraciones
Considérese un hombre que cree querer a sus parejas más de lo que a él le gustaría, aunque prefiere callar.
Considérese una chica que cree que mostrarse muy interesada es contraproducente, aunque le gusta flirtear.
¿Qué hacen ellos si (por una de esas casualidades de la vida) el destino los junta?
No hacen más que discutir la contingencia de la humanidad, cargada de ese eterno retorno que ha sido comentado hasta el cansancio, para luego preguntarse qué hacer ahora. Una aventura fugaz y ella queda con ganas de más; él encuentra que no ha sido suficiente pero decide que se debe alejar.
Considérese ahora un hombre que en sus anteriores relaciones nunca ha dicho la verdad y ahora, harto del engaño, desea mirar la situación de frente.
Considérese, también, una chica que sólo desea una relación distinta a las que ha tenido, una relación de verdad.
Nuevamente, nuestro amigo el destino decide jugar un poco a ser ajedrecista y junta a estos dos personajes ficticios.
Él, con una verdad acumulada y ella, con un deseo inagotable de honestidad sin proezas. Él le dice que ya no puede vivir sin ella y ella acepta la declaración con la alegría de un saltamontes. Se asusta y escapa. Él vuelve a mentir.
¿Qué pareja ha ganado más? Su juicio ha de ser objetivo y deberá, usted, tomar en cuenta las consecuencias posteriores en las vidas de los cuatro hipotéticos (¿y patéticos?) individuos. Dos que vivirán la vida callando y dos que desearán nunca haber conocido la verdad. ¿Para cuál de estos seres -que podrían ser usted o yo- lo acaecido ha sido útil?
Yo creo que para ninguno.
Considérese una chica que cree que mostrarse muy interesada es contraproducente, aunque le gusta flirtear.
¿Qué hacen ellos si (por una de esas casualidades de la vida) el destino los junta?
No hacen más que discutir la contingencia de la humanidad, cargada de ese eterno retorno que ha sido comentado hasta el cansancio, para luego preguntarse qué hacer ahora. Una aventura fugaz y ella queda con ganas de más; él encuentra que no ha sido suficiente pero decide que se debe alejar.
Considérese ahora un hombre que en sus anteriores relaciones nunca ha dicho la verdad y ahora, harto del engaño, desea mirar la situación de frente.
Considérese, también, una chica que sólo desea una relación distinta a las que ha tenido, una relación de verdad.
Nuevamente, nuestro amigo el destino decide jugar un poco a ser ajedrecista y junta a estos dos personajes ficticios.
Él, con una verdad acumulada y ella, con un deseo inagotable de honestidad sin proezas. Él le dice que ya no puede vivir sin ella y ella acepta la declaración con la alegría de un saltamontes. Se asusta y escapa. Él vuelve a mentir.
¿Qué pareja ha ganado más? Su juicio ha de ser objetivo y deberá, usted, tomar en cuenta las consecuencias posteriores en las vidas de los cuatro hipotéticos (¿y patéticos?) individuos. Dos que vivirán la vida callando y dos que desearán nunca haber conocido la verdad. ¿Para cuál de estos seres -que podrían ser usted o yo- lo acaecido ha sido útil?
Yo creo que para ninguno.
not an addict
you know, it's at moments like this when i question my misandristic tendencies.
a man, not some strap-on wearing transsexual fraud, but a card-carrying member of the male gender, actually apologized to me for his bad behavior. and he meant it.
if i could only find my spontaneously disappearing cigarettes, the world would be a fucking wonderful place.
a man, not some strap-on wearing transsexual fraud, but a card-carrying member of the male gender, actually apologized to me for his bad behavior. and he meant it.
if i could only find my spontaneously disappearing cigarettes, the world would be a fucking wonderful place.
Friday, July 21, 2006
Studying Abroad
She simply couldn’t believe her eyes. It was one of the biggest cities in the world and there she was: ready to spend that entire year there, ready to begin the most exciting part of her life. Overwhelmed by such beauty and dazzled by what she had always dreamed of, she felt the adrenaline of being ready to begin. Everything was really hectic… after all, she had only been there for half an hour, seeing it all from the best seat in the house: that of the yellow cab that had picked her up at the airport and that was the single, most stereotypical institution in that city, a landmark by itself and in its own right.
Her plans were oh-so-many that she was unable to decide. Impulse being out of the question, she struggled with such a momentous decision, but soon the pace of the world outside her cab (by now it was hers and belonged to no one else) made her turn her attention to the sheer majesty of the city she had so eagerly longed to visit.
The cab driver, with nothing else in mind but ripping her off, decided to take this (obviously-a-tourist-since-she’s-pressed-against-the-window) little girl through Times Square knowing that it was the busiest time of the day, knowing that he would make a fortune only by standing at those never-ending red lights and driving along those crowded streets with thousands of yellow cabs just like his and with those irreparably stupid tourists that decide that the best place to stop and take that super cool picture of the whole thing is (why not?) the middle of the street. What is there to photograph anyways!? She knew. Of course she knew! She had been thinking about this day and place since she first saw all those tall buildings in a picture and realized that there was a good reason why so many films had been shot in that city. As they drove by, the driver was pleased to see that she didn’t care much about the meter and that each of those silly shiny signs was taking her breath away, giving it back to her only to have it taken away by the next one. My God, people are assholes! How can they get so high just by looking at a ridiculous billboard? After 17 years of having lived there, he had never considered a single one of those signs to be worth noting…
But let’s go back to her because she was delighted and she couldn’t hide it, because every inch of her body was feeling the greatness of knowing that she was at the right place at the right time and nothing could possibly bring her down: this was the best moment of her life, the single memory she would treasure for all eternity and nobody would be able to ruin that for her.
So, after the most thrilling taxi ride ever, she finally got to what she would call home for next year. She was about to live in the trendiest place ever and, let’s face it, the neighbourhood where everybody wanted to live: the Village. She took her luggage upstairs and took a quick look at her hip yet bohemian studio. It was perfect, just perfect. Things couldn’t be better and, oh yes, they could! It’s only 6:50 here so we even have time for a walk. Is there anything more perfect than this? The weird thing is that I just can’t believe it. Could it be too much? Gosh, if only my friends could see me here! Who would’ve thought?
So she left to take a walk. She was delirious with joy and so excited that she didn’t think of locking the door, though the apartment was most positively safe since the building was so neat and it even had a doorman and everything. Well, who cares? she thought when she remembered, already on her way to the subway (which was the one thing she’d been dying to get on - after the yellow cab, of course).
This city was amazing, everywhere she looked she saw things of such greatness that her mind was going nuts trying to grasp it all, going from this to that and back again to the chinese guy on that corner and forward to the red street signs or to the beautiful buildings. Until she got to the station and went down the stairs, looking at everyone around her, trying to tell if they were real New Yorkers or another tourist just like her, getting delighted at the absolute beauty of the most insignificant things.
Once she was downstairs and had submerged in the rush of the atmosphere, she stopped to take a long close look at the map, not caring about looking like a tourist because she had nothing to be afraid: carrying only the couple of bucks she had brought for the subway ticket and the receipt for the sandwich she had bought at the airport, should anyone rob her, they would be extremely disappointed and she could always ask for directions and walk back home. Anyways, after carefully examining the map and deciding on a plan, she got on the 1 train going uptown and she was marvelled. We can’t say here that it was the best subway train she’d been on, (that would be a serious offense) though we can certainly say that it was the best subway ride she’d ever had. Unfortunately, it was only a couple of stops before she had to get off, though it was only to discover something greater than seeing all those people probably going back home: seeing herself walking down the streets she had always dreamed about, those streets where she had pictured herself uncountable times and where she thought the most wonderful things could happen. This was nothing like she had imagined, it was so much better, so much more.
The mesmerizing effect of everything in that place had the strangest effect on her and she was uncapable of focusing on whatever thing she felt like paying attention to. So many people, so many signs, so many things she could learn about and so many cars around her.
By the time she realized what was going on, it was too late. All the other cars had managed to dodge that weird girl standing in the middle of the street. Though he never meant for it to happen, the driver of that Jeep (fighting with his girlfriend over wether or not he had cheated on her) was paying more attention to proving he was innocent than to what was happening outside. By the time he realized what was going on, it was (once again) too late. The car smashed the girl all the way to the other side of the street, where she lay for a second (thinking about the irony of life) before she died.
Somebody call 911! Call an ambulance! She’s hurt, bring a doctor! But then it was too late. For the third time in that day, it was too late.
The paramedics got there, D.O.A. and the C.S.I. unit’s been called. They search her pockets and all they find is a couple of bucks and a receipt for a sandwich at La Guardia, giving no clues on who the girl was.
It’s been 2 months at the morgue and Jane Doe has not had any visits. Poor girl, and, yet, you still look happy.
Her plans were oh-so-many that she was unable to decide. Impulse being out of the question, she struggled with such a momentous decision, but soon the pace of the world outside her cab (by now it was hers and belonged to no one else) made her turn her attention to the sheer majesty of the city she had so eagerly longed to visit.
The cab driver, with nothing else in mind but ripping her off, decided to take this (obviously-a-tourist-since-she’s-pressed-against-the-window) little girl through Times Square knowing that it was the busiest time of the day, knowing that he would make a fortune only by standing at those never-ending red lights and driving along those crowded streets with thousands of yellow cabs just like his and with those irreparably stupid tourists that decide that the best place to stop and take that super cool picture of the whole thing is (why not?) the middle of the street. What is there to photograph anyways!? She knew. Of course she knew! She had been thinking about this day and place since she first saw all those tall buildings in a picture and realized that there was a good reason why so many films had been shot in that city. As they drove by, the driver was pleased to see that she didn’t care much about the meter and that each of those silly shiny signs was taking her breath away, giving it back to her only to have it taken away by the next one. My God, people are assholes! How can they get so high just by looking at a ridiculous billboard? After 17 years of having lived there, he had never considered a single one of those signs to be worth noting…
But let’s go back to her because she was delighted and she couldn’t hide it, because every inch of her body was feeling the greatness of knowing that she was at the right place at the right time and nothing could possibly bring her down: this was the best moment of her life, the single memory she would treasure for all eternity and nobody would be able to ruin that for her.
So, after the most thrilling taxi ride ever, she finally got to what she would call home for next year. She was about to live in the trendiest place ever and, let’s face it, the neighbourhood where everybody wanted to live: the Village. She took her luggage upstairs and took a quick look at her hip yet bohemian studio. It was perfect, just perfect. Things couldn’t be better and, oh yes, they could! It’s only 6:50 here so we even have time for a walk. Is there anything more perfect than this? The weird thing is that I just can’t believe it. Could it be too much? Gosh, if only my friends could see me here! Who would’ve thought?
So she left to take a walk. She was delirious with joy and so excited that she didn’t think of locking the door, though the apartment was most positively safe since the building was so neat and it even had a doorman and everything. Well, who cares? she thought when she remembered, already on her way to the subway (which was the one thing she’d been dying to get on - after the yellow cab, of course).
This city was amazing, everywhere she looked she saw things of such greatness that her mind was going nuts trying to grasp it all, going from this to that and back again to the chinese guy on that corner and forward to the red street signs or to the beautiful buildings. Until she got to the station and went down the stairs, looking at everyone around her, trying to tell if they were real New Yorkers or another tourist just like her, getting delighted at the absolute beauty of the most insignificant things.
Once she was downstairs and had submerged in the rush of the atmosphere, she stopped to take a long close look at the map, not caring about looking like a tourist because she had nothing to be afraid: carrying only the couple of bucks she had brought for the subway ticket and the receipt for the sandwich she had bought at the airport, should anyone rob her, they would be extremely disappointed and she could always ask for directions and walk back home. Anyways, after carefully examining the map and deciding on a plan, she got on the 1 train going uptown and she was marvelled. We can’t say here that it was the best subway train she’d been on, (that would be a serious offense) though we can certainly say that it was the best subway ride she’d ever had. Unfortunately, it was only a couple of stops before she had to get off, though it was only to discover something greater than seeing all those people probably going back home: seeing herself walking down the streets she had always dreamed about, those streets where she had pictured herself uncountable times and where she thought the most wonderful things could happen. This was nothing like she had imagined, it was so much better, so much more.
The mesmerizing effect of everything in that place had the strangest effect on her and she was uncapable of focusing on whatever thing she felt like paying attention to. So many people, so many signs, so many things she could learn about and so many cars around her.
By the time she realized what was going on, it was too late. All the other cars had managed to dodge that weird girl standing in the middle of the street. Though he never meant for it to happen, the driver of that Jeep (fighting with his girlfriend over wether or not he had cheated on her) was paying more attention to proving he was innocent than to what was happening outside. By the time he realized what was going on, it was (once again) too late. The car smashed the girl all the way to the other side of the street, where she lay for a second (thinking about the irony of life) before she died.
Somebody call 911! Call an ambulance! She’s hurt, bring a doctor! But then it was too late. For the third time in that day, it was too late.
The paramedics got there, D.O.A. and the C.S.I. unit’s been called. They search her pockets and all they find is a couple of bucks and a receipt for a sandwich at La Guardia, giving no clues on who the girl was.
It’s been 2 months at the morgue and Jane Doe has not had any visits. Poor girl, and, yet, you still look happy.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
carta desesperada
Ya no quiero sufrir más pero no puedo comenzar a explicar lo mucho que me duele haberte conocido y lo difícil que es saber que esto nunca acabará. Nadie vendrá nunca a ayudarme, nadie me arrimará nunca a su sombra y sólo me queda recordar aquella época en que era feliz, sin problemas y sin ti. Quisiera volver al pasado y poder decirte que no, rechazar lo que alguna vez encontré dulce y sincero y no perderme en tu juego de la desesperación.
Porque llegaste a destrozar mis suenios y mi verdad y ahora nada puedo hacer para alejarte y no te puedo detener, pues ambos sabemos que no tengo fuerzas para luchar, pues éste es el punio más fuerte que ofrezco y mi grito más desgarrador.
Ahora no me queda nada, no tengo nada que ofrecer, pues te lo has llevado todo y sin mirarme no me pides perdón, sigues quitándomelo todo y eres tan fuerte que no te puedo olvidar.
Y porque te odio es que me odio aun más, porque sé que esto es mi culpa y mi dolor es en parte tuyo. Por eso no te quiero ver, pues te temo hasta dormido y en mis sueños, te detesto hasta en la ducha y sin comer y, aunque debí haber sabido, ya quisiera poder reir, poder ser esa persona que algún día no te conoció.
Por eso te pido, te lo imploro. Vete, vete y no me hieras más porque ya ha sido sufiente y porque yo nunca lo acepté.
Y lo que más me duele es saber que, aunque yo muera, tu no morirás. Volverás a hacer lo mismo y por eso prefiero dormir, esperarte y volver a sentir tu cuerpo, verte sobre mí para que a ella no le pase y asi salvarla de tu cara enajenada, del dolor que nunca olvidará. Así yo sigo contigo, y tu sigues sin sentirme. Yo sigo con tu fuerza y a la fuerza, deseando lo peor para cualquiera de los dos. Deseando lo imposible para poder disfrutar de lo hermoso de un paisaje, de la vida que no es justa y luego no temer y no doler.
Porque llegaste a destrozar mis suenios y mi verdad y ahora nada puedo hacer para alejarte y no te puedo detener, pues ambos sabemos que no tengo fuerzas para luchar, pues éste es el punio más fuerte que ofrezco y mi grito más desgarrador.
Ahora no me queda nada, no tengo nada que ofrecer, pues te lo has llevado todo y sin mirarme no me pides perdón, sigues quitándomelo todo y eres tan fuerte que no te puedo olvidar.
Y porque te odio es que me odio aun más, porque sé que esto es mi culpa y mi dolor es en parte tuyo. Por eso no te quiero ver, pues te temo hasta dormido y en mis sueños, te detesto hasta en la ducha y sin comer y, aunque debí haber sabido, ya quisiera poder reir, poder ser esa persona que algún día no te conoció.
Por eso te pido, te lo imploro. Vete, vete y no me hieras más porque ya ha sido sufiente y porque yo nunca lo acepté.
Y lo que más me duele es saber que, aunque yo muera, tu no morirás. Volverás a hacer lo mismo y por eso prefiero dormir, esperarte y volver a sentir tu cuerpo, verte sobre mí para que a ella no le pase y asi salvarla de tu cara enajenada, del dolor que nunca olvidará. Así yo sigo contigo, y tu sigues sin sentirme. Yo sigo con tu fuerza y a la fuerza, deseando lo peor para cualquiera de los dos. Deseando lo imposible para poder disfrutar de lo hermoso de un paisaje, de la vida que no es justa y luego no temer y no doler.
the dying atheist
esto está como lo encontré, nunca quise editarlo (nota a la publicación forzada dados los eventos virtuales y reales que me obligan a salir del anonimato)
They told me You weren't here nor there
But I waited, because I believe and trust...
I know You are who I think You are
Otherwise,
How would have I got through one night?
You know I'm in love with that magic of Yours
And that I need it.
Once we met.
You and I, just the two of us.
It was not only chance.
You wanted it, pursued it, and got it.
You knew about them!
You knew about those decent lives inside You,
But You chose me,
And I was refusing to let You in
But You filled my body with existence.
A circle lives now inside me
Round and round
All the way from innocence to life.
The Universe rises, it leaves,
It's not here...
And then it strikes!
With its passionate impulse,
And it gives me life.
I feel alive
And we both know it is because of You.
No beginning, no end.
Just me.
Immortal, like You.
They told me You weren't here nor there
But I waited, because I believe and trust...
I know You are who I think You are
Otherwise,
How would have I got through one night?
You know I'm in love with that magic of Yours
And that I need it.
Once we met.
You and I, just the two of us.
It was not only chance.
You wanted it, pursued it, and got it.
You knew about them!
You knew about those decent lives inside You,
But You chose me,
And I was refusing to let You in
But You filled my body with existence.
A circle lives now inside me
Round and round
All the way from innocence to life.
The Universe rises, it leaves,
It's not here...
And then it strikes!
With its passionate impulse,
And it gives me life.
I feel alive
And we both know it is because of You.
No beginning, no end.
Just me.
Immortal, like You.
¿Jenín?
Una piedra es todo lo que te queda
Pero la usas tan bien que te admiro,
La usas tan bien que ellos temen
y yo lloro por tu suerte.
Porque vives en la casa que ha sido usurpada,
Y estás dentro de cada niño que ha nacido.
Porque aunque sólo te queda una piedra,
Eres el más fuerte y no mueres.
Seguirás aferrándote a esa piedra,
(Que es todo lo que tienes)
Para defender tu vida,
Para defender tu tierra.
Y algún día volverás a tu hogar.
A tu verdadero hogar,
En esa ciudad que robaron
Pero que te deberán devolver
Porque a ti pertenece,
Niño Palestino que no mueres
Y que luchas con tan sólo una piedra
Pues ya nada te queda
Pues te lo han robado todo.
sobre el ataque a Jenin - Abril, 2002
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
all good things
As we sat down I remembered
all the tales she used to tell.
At first, it didn't feel as I expected,
But then I was able to recall...
Something about a romance?
Why, yes! And then about strength,
Now, lady Loneliness becomes a small idea
Gone by as it's de-stressed.
Her spirit talks to me,
But my vague response makes her doubt.
I hear nothing but this shy fright,
this silence, starring our fireside chat.
We now engage in conversation,
We talk about never-ending days,
And so we end up leaving
all hesitation away.
I dare now to stand tall,
Go through deep water, if I wish
Bathe in the sea
and let all action begin
Tainted scars forget me
As soon as I recall her embrace.
Feeling her arms around me
Helped my bleeding heart to dare.
I remember sugar cotton,
Filled with all the Spring it could contain,
And stopping to see if I remember
it pushes my death wish away.
all the tales she used to tell.
At first, it didn't feel as I expected,
But then I was able to recall...
Something about a romance?
Why, yes! And then about strength,
Now, lady Loneliness becomes a small idea
Gone by as it's de-stressed.
Her spirit talks to me,
But my vague response makes her doubt.
I hear nothing but this shy fright,
this silence, starring our fireside chat.
We now engage in conversation,
We talk about never-ending days,
And so we end up leaving
all hesitation away.
I dare now to stand tall,
Go through deep water, if I wish
Bathe in the sea
and let all action begin
Tainted scars forget me
As soon as I recall her embrace.
Feeling her arms around me
Helped my bleeding heart to dare.
I remember sugar cotton,
Filled with all the Spring it could contain,
And stopping to see if I remember
it pushes my death wish away.
blame it on the rain
And so the shabby bits are beginning to annoy you,
Just as we realized that this wasn't meant to be.
Now, all we have is to move in different directions,
For growing apart was the only thing we ever did.
I'll leave you now, before you end this,
And as I withdraw from this awful scene
I'll be trying not to cry
I'll be trying not to show you
I'll be trying not to let you know how much it hurts to see
that thing I longed for so desperately
that thing we didn't get to be.
And though I leave with pain and sorrow
And though this is the shortest story
I only need to cry tonight
For tomorrow it's just oblivion,
that will be the name of the game.
Just as we realized that this wasn't meant to be.
Now, all we have is to move in different directions,
For growing apart was the only thing we ever did.
I'll leave you now, before you end this,
And as I withdraw from this awful scene
I'll be trying not to cry
I'll be trying not to show you
I'll be trying not to let you know how much it hurts to see
that thing I longed for so desperately
that thing we didn't get to be.
And though I leave with pain and sorrow
And though this is the shortest story
I only need to cry tonight
For tomorrow it's just oblivion,
that will be the name of the game.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
life, oh, life
Luego de un plebiscito, the Torontonian neighbourhood "The Beaches" ahora es "The Beach".After perusing the current state of affairs, I am no longer who I used to be.
La vida cambia, las cosas mejoran o empeoran según se nos venga el tiempo encima y perseguir ilusiones clandestinas escondidas en el subconsciente ya no vale la pena.
The real facts of life are under scrutiny and we have realized that they are no longer about running barefoot on humid grass, shaking trees and leaving leaves behind.
Fran Morales
El viento se ha llevado tu recuerdo
La casa llevaba años sin ser habitada, aunque de vez en cuando los niños -siempre buscando una manera de desobedecer a sus padres- descubrían el gran tesoro que escondía: Osvaldo. Eran atraídos por todas las historias y mitos que giraban en torno a ella y querían saber por qué seguía vacía luego de tanto tiempo. Por eso dedicaban todo su tiempo y se cansaban buscando maneras de entrar para luego sentirse únicos por haber encontrado la entrada secreta que se escondía tras unas enredaderas y arbustos en el patio del colegio. Lo que ellos no sabían era que muchos niños ya habían encontrado esa puerta antes, y numerosas veces la habían cruzado para luego, también, encontrar a Osvaldo.
Al descubrirlo se emocionaban mucho y llamaban a más amigos para que también pudieran divertirse un poco, algo que Osvaldo disfrutaba ya que siempre estuvo a favor de una numerosa compañía y, haciendo lo posible por entretenerlos y despertar un interés que no fuera pasajero, se sentía más feliz que nunca.
Luego de observarlo la primera vez, decidían quedarse un poco más. Esto era, en parte, por pasarlo bien pero también porque no querían que otros niños tuvieran el juguete que ellos habían hallado. Y así volvían a la casa todos los días después del colegio, jugaban con Osvaldo (quien disfrutaba cada momento como si fuese el último) y luego, a medida que el tiempo pasaba, la curiosidad se agotaba y los niños encontraban en la calle más juegos y cosas más entretenidas, aplazando sus visitas tanto y tantas veces que Osvaldo luego comprendía que ese grupo de niños lo había olvidado: nuevamente estaba solo.
Pero luego venían de la corredora, intentando vender la casa y dándole a Osvaldo esperanzas de familia y amistades, esperanzas de niños corriendo por los pasillos y parientes congregados en torno al asador. ¡Era tan emocionante ver que alguien se mostrara interesado en comprar la casa! Osvaldo se emocionaba mucho y ya tenía todo planeado y calculado, imaginaba cómo iba a entretener a los niños, en qué modo fascinaría a las visitas y cómo haría que lo sintieran como parte de la familia... hasta que el comprador descubría la verdadera naturaleza de Osvaldo y, espantado, cancelaba todas las negociaciones.
Lo que Osvaldo nunca entendió era por qué solamente despertaba el interés de los niños y tampoco por qué, luego de un tiempo, todos lo abandonaban. Hasta que un día lo supo: los fantasmas no son amigos de la gente; por eso ahora, luego de enterarse, sólo le queda hacer lo imposible por vengar el daño causado, penar y ser odiado.
Ser temido. Olvidado.
Al descubrirlo se emocionaban mucho y llamaban a más amigos para que también pudieran divertirse un poco, algo que Osvaldo disfrutaba ya que siempre estuvo a favor de una numerosa compañía y, haciendo lo posible por entretenerlos y despertar un interés que no fuera pasajero, se sentía más feliz que nunca.
Luego de observarlo la primera vez, decidían quedarse un poco más. Esto era, en parte, por pasarlo bien pero también porque no querían que otros niños tuvieran el juguete que ellos habían hallado. Y así volvían a la casa todos los días después del colegio, jugaban con Osvaldo (quien disfrutaba cada momento como si fuese el último) y luego, a medida que el tiempo pasaba, la curiosidad se agotaba y los niños encontraban en la calle más juegos y cosas más entretenidas, aplazando sus visitas tanto y tantas veces que Osvaldo luego comprendía que ese grupo de niños lo había olvidado: nuevamente estaba solo.
Pero luego venían de la corredora, intentando vender la casa y dándole a Osvaldo esperanzas de familia y amistades, esperanzas de niños corriendo por los pasillos y parientes congregados en torno al asador. ¡Era tan emocionante ver que alguien se mostrara interesado en comprar la casa! Osvaldo se emocionaba mucho y ya tenía todo planeado y calculado, imaginaba cómo iba a entretener a los niños, en qué modo fascinaría a las visitas y cómo haría que lo sintieran como parte de la familia... hasta que el comprador descubría la verdadera naturaleza de Osvaldo y, espantado, cancelaba todas las negociaciones.
Lo que Osvaldo nunca entendió era por qué solamente despertaba el interés de los niños y tampoco por qué, luego de un tiempo, todos lo abandonaban. Hasta que un día lo supo: los fantasmas no son amigos de la gente; por eso ahora, luego de enterarse, sólo le queda hacer lo imposible por vengar el daño causado, penar y ser odiado.
Ser temido. Olvidado.
Fran Morales
La soportable levedad
Lo peor que le pudo suceder a Teresa (hija de una pareja que leía a Kundera) fue descubrir que las coincidencias no determinan más que el color de su cepillo de dientes y no hacen que un evento sea más relevante.
Los eventos no son relevantes, las coincidencias pueden pasar desapercibidas y las personas siempre serán olvidadas.
Al menos eso le dio a entender Tomás, el médico que volvía de Zurich.
Los eventos no son relevantes, las coincidencias pueden pasar desapercibidas y las personas siempre serán olvidadas.
Al menos eso le dio a entender Tomás, el médico que volvía de Zurich.
Fran Morales
you cover's not blown
Ellos no sabían que el profesor estaba contento se ser transferido a la escuela básica... las niñas a esa edad tienen muchas más cosas que aprender.
Fran Morales