That's the title of one of my favourite songs. The most lethal, the most indispensable thing is to hear your own voice. Also, keeping up with the idea of writing as catharsis, this one blog is dedicated all to myself. More Solipsism would be hard to find. And I like it like that. Oh, and this is a queer (and self-proclaimed 'ADULT') blog so go ahead, make your day... mine is done.
“You were like one of those guys
The kind with a wandering eye
But I said, “hey what the hell, once in my life I’ll take a ride on the wild side”
You were so full of yourself
But damn, were you cute, as well
You liked my legs, I liked your moves
Anyone could tell that it’s hard to deny that”
This is where I'll be so heavenly, so come and dance with me Michael So sexy, I'm sexy, so come and dance with me Michael I'm all that you see, you wanna see, so come and dance with me Michael So close now, so close now, so come and dance with me, so come and dance with me, so come and dance with me
Michael, you're the boy with all the leather hips, sticky hair, sticky hips, stubble on my sticky lips
Oh well. I guess it was bound to happen. Among all the hundreds of guys I see every day I have to go and crush on this one who's in my class. FML. But he's adorable. Very tall and with that kind of 'aw-shucks' attitude that usually draws you right in. He's got puppy eyes framed by long, dark lashes and a quick smile. Nice hands and long legs, not much of a 'body' and that's fine with me. I kind of mistrust guys with too many muscles. I've noticed a little bit of a stubble sometimes and a strange swiftness of move rare in very tall guys, who tend to be gangly and all arms and legs. A quick wit, too, very smart and sharp. And a strange vulnerability that he tries to cover with flashes of cockiness. But I can see right through it. It pays being older than the guys you're crushing on. You've been there and done them before. It does not help that I've been slightly lonely these past months, either. What with the new city/job/home thing and all the shit that's going on right now. And of course on top of that, he's straight. Because to have a regression like this, it would not be worthy of my gay card to crush on a gay guy. It's ridiculous. But I kind of like it. I keep my cool and I keep watching him. Like a hawk. Feeding my onanistic fantasies. And letting time go by...
Si solo hace unos días hablaba con N (mi ex, una historia larga de contar) sobre cuando estábamos en la Universidad durante esos primeros semestres de subgraduados, de como nos la pasábamos con los amigos, de las largas tertulias de noches inacabables, de los momentos estáticos de una copa de vino a medio llenar, de una bocanada de humo de un cigarrillo de marihuana que alguien tenia unos metros mas allá. De los bailes improvisados. De las comidas compartidas, de los besos en fincas alejadas del ruido automotor, de los poemas escritos en pedazos de papel, de las manos cogidas a la luz de la luna, de los suspiros en un cuarto iluminado por la luz de unas cuantas velas.
Me he enterado que Mercedes Sosa, cómplice sonriente de mas de una de estas escapadas ha muerto rondando los setenta. Y un pedacito de mi se ha magullado con esta noticia. Siempre acaparamos esos momentos pasados en la memoria, esperando el momento de revivirlos, recordarlos, saborearlos con la misma gula con que nos devoramos nuestro plato favorito después de un largo tiempo de no comerlo. Porque aunque no estoy seguro de que 'todo tiempo pasado fue mejor' si estoy de acuerdo en traer a colación algunos momentos que merecen ser recordados, ya sea porque nos enseñaron algo o porque dejaron una huella imborrable en nosotros.
Y las noches con Mercedes (y muchas con Shakira) con los estudiantes de la U y de la EPA dejaron huella y me enseñaron muchas cosas. Cosas que todavía llevo conmigo: el valor de la amistad, el compartir sin esperar retribución, el disfrutar de cosas que no tienen precio porque no se pueden comprar, el vivir y disfrutar sin pensar en el ayer ni en el día siguiente. Esas noches y muchos veces esos días todavía están en mis recuerdos, frescos como una tarde en Santa Elena, coloridos como una silleta. Parece mentira, estando un mundo aparte y separado por los tantos meses y los incontables días que han pasado desde esas salidas y las cosas y gentes que me han afectado. El olor de un hombre, el sabor de una boca que me besaba, la hierba bajo mi espalda y la luna confundida con sus ojos parecen cosas que me pasaron ayer. La risa a carcajadas, las discusiones a voz en cuello sobre el proletariado, las ideas 'rojas' susurradas bajo mantas y esa subversión intrínseca del ser muy joven e idealista me imagino que dejaron grabados esos momentos en mi piel y en mi mente.
Y ahora Mercedes ya no se encuentra aquí. Un pesar, pero por lo que he visto, su salud era muy mala y lo único que quedaba de ella era esa voz que se reconoce inmediatamente, que todavía resuena en mis oídos y que trae tantos recuerdos y saudades, como dicen los Portugueses. Y me la he encontrado con Shakira, mientras buscaba mi dosis de entretenimiento de Shakiraholico despistado, buscando noticias sobre cuando puedo conseguir Loba. Y me han vuelto a atosigar los recuerdos. Y me he dicho a mi mismo que eso es lo que los recuerdos deben hacer: tomarte por sorpresa, atraparte en sus frágiles brazos y murmurar palabras en tus oídos. Para luego irse despacio, dejando el sabor de esos besos perdidos en el pasado en tu boca...
Ok, so life is 'back on track' meaning I'm working and all that but why do I still feel like there's something missing? I guess it may be because I basically live in never-never land, moving across my days in a slight daze interrupted only by the mandatory driving and the interactions with people that I have to carry out. I cannot feel a real connection with anything or anybody at this point. All the streets look slightly familiar and utterly alien at the same time and all the people concur in a blur of faces and voices that do not tell me anything.
I seriously have no idea why or how I keep going on. I have no investment on anything I do but the most pedestrian one: keep going. It should be preservation instinct. Or the meds. Or maybe just the old learned rules that always apply to life and that we keep following no matter how we feel or think: 'it's what you need to do'. So not a very deep summary of how I am reacting to this new situation, but I guess that'll do for now.
I think that maybe the 'not knowing' what will happen to me and my life has affected me in deeper ways than I thought. The incertitude and the sneaky uneasiness of the disenfranchised are taking its toll. Hopefully, I'll rebound from this the same way I have bounced back from so many other shitty moments in my life. Meanwhile, I'll just go and grab some chocolate. Or wear that new hat. Those always help...
I'm just another guy, I guess. I don't know exactly what to write here because I know I'll be leaving things out that may be important and writing too much stuff that does not describe me. I'll get back to this later and will try to make it good and coherent. Something that for me can be a struggle (both the good and the coherent part).
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