I have an old photo of you, where you are posing in the door of your Home, on Hill Top.
Maybe it’s the vision of your kind and healthy face, that let me use this adjective quite daring: “dear“. Maybe is because of the distance and the Time, and…Of course, you won’t reproach my lack of manners for writing to you in this way, being a total unknown from XXI century who tells you very odd things.
When I told you about the Death, I was scared, yes. In a few days I’ll be hospitalized to make me a liver biopsy.
I don’t know about Medicine history, so maybe you know or not about what’s a biopsy.
I know it’s nothing.
“It will not hurt” Doctors tell me. But I don’t trust them.
“Don’t be afraid” Tells me my Mother.
But She also is afraid, I can see it in her eyes.
I can see it every time she looks at me trying to not show the aversion that causes to see my scrawny body.
I cry every time I go to the bath, to take a shower.
I don’t have chest. My arms and my back, my hips, my ribs, all are just that. Bones.
I don’t have my face bright and flustered, neither the eyes shining.
In my suitcase I prepared some books. I also put yours with all my caring.
To my little sister I always tell that treat the book with love, that is a jewel of collector.
She thinks I exaggerate and the fact I doubt of her maturity hurts her.
I know, I know, that she knows very well how to treat books. She is a very mature girl for her age. I’m really proud of her intelligence. With only 14 years old has really clear ideas and knows how to talk better than lots of adults and with career.
The little one, of course, has only 4 years old, he is different, he takes everything but to draw on his scribbles. My auntie Ana says he is going to be an artist.
I guess he’s getting familiar with the colors, the drawings and every thing he sees in my workshop. He sits near me, and imitate all my movements. As Aristotle said, the Humanity learns imitating.But arriving to certain point of the Life, every person must shape their
personality from all that has been around, all the crying, all the imitations and the reflections.
This part of so simple theory, doesn’t always come true. The fashion, the urban tribes, the evil envy, leads a imitation that transforms the society in one of a kind of cattle ranch. That’s how the proverb says: Monkey see, monkey do. “Where is going Vicente? Where people goes” (Spanish proverb)
Well so, my little brother, most than one time ended all dirt of oil paints, and what a disaster..! So I bought a crayon box and card-boards for him.
His drawings of houses with chimney, cars and dogs, comforted me so much.
It seems that kids see the world in colors.
I think that the best thinkers of all Times, has not seen in the kids the perfect solution to problems and questions of Philosophy.Maybe all it’s lots more simple. We look for the Truth with all the possible biggest difficulties, while the TRUTH, that already has connotations of indecipherable and empty Myth, it’s instead in the simplicity.
The simplicity of whom begin to discover Life and the one who when sees a stone discovers a stone, and not a tangle of mysterious analytical schemes that converts it in a very long book that leaves us full of doubts.
And the Science, yes, it’s wonderful. The man, not, better the Humanity has learned to divide reality from fiction first, and after linked it again to do really unthinkable things. You can’t imagine what a limited and fragile that’s human being could achieve during this pick of the Earth Time.
You lived that emboldened start of 1900.
I live the unbridled excess of the near 2000.
How far away we are, dear my friend!
I correct: How far away I am from any alive thing…I guess I’m closer to you, nether-less these 100 years, than to any person of my age or my Time.
I can’t believe what’s happening to me. I can’t recognize myself.
And neither can’t do so my dears.I almost can’t remember clearly and in a sequence way that big discussion with Manuela. Time betrayed me, my body betrayed me, I myself betrayed me. In fact, this whole city betrayed me.
That night all we were celebrating Carnival.
I cos-played like a pirate: white blouse with frills, tight trousers, high boots and spyglass.
Manu disguised as a zombie and Pati as a magician.
Helena and her coworkers surprised us with quite pathetic costume of witches.
There was also a group who had the great idea of disguising as sisters with Ni*e sneakers, that’s a name of a brand that marks people like hot
iron to cattle. Then you are the powerful of the riches tribe, pretty and famous. Well, there’s not only N*ke, there are thousands of stupid names, that are not worthy of being named. Maybe I say one of them without noticing. In this Times people are not fighting for knowing,
but for appearing. At schools no one knows who is Cervantes, what’s Iberia Peninsula, or where the hell is that Odyssey. The knowledge does not take place (Spanish proverb, knowing more doesn’t hurt, doesn’t bother) but my skirt is cuter then yours and also more expensive. Furthermore why they want to know History – they ask themselves – if I master flirting and consumerism?
Everybody laughed when they saw that dozen of false sisters with expressionless masks, white as their sneakers. It wasn’t funny for me. It’s incoherent and stupid to do a joke about something we don’t know and so, about something we don’t have any right.
That’s also typical from these times. All is laughable.
I can’t tell too much about what happened.
Manuela grabbed the drinks bar and thanks to the heat of the wine began to chatter with euphoria, ridiculously, because of the boys who were coming closer to us.
I felt so embarrassed so with a few but clear words I asked her to behave.
_ Shut up!! – yelled at me with all her rage and hatred that was hosting within her.
That hurt me. She wasn’t Manuela, she couldn’t be.
_ Why I must shut up, I don’t have to. What you are doing is just immature and ridiculous.
_ Ha! what happens is that you are a washy-washy girl who doesn’t know how to have fun!
And so that really hurt me, because it wasn’t true.
_ I don’t need fuel to get fun.
I had Manuela fatty and ugly face engraved in my mind, looking at me with an indescribable grudge that always scared me. Even now I remember it and I feel very sad. It’s being hard to me writing about it.
I would prefer to bury it in the Oblivion, but that’s not easy.
At that moment I didn’t know if go home or stay or what…
Even I was swallowing all time, I had a big knot in my throat and even though I wanted to look calm, my hands were trembling.
The party was in the Sports Pavilion. In the corner of the wardrobe I sat down to wait for the Calmness. I couldn’t stop my trembling.
_ Have you lost your broadsword?
I jumped surprised: by my side, leaned to make his voice be clear with all that loud music, was Adrian.
I lost some seconds to understand what was saying because I forgot totally about my dress up. I looked at me and felt so stupid. And even more when I saw that he wasn’t wearing any costume.
I smiled and replied that I was disarmed in a death match.
_They must have hurt you…- he said.
I knew that he knew about what we were talking.
_ Yes, in fact a lot.
We were silent in the middle of the festive sound, during a time that seemed to me an eternity. Finally I felt so uneasy that I turned around to him and invited him to drink something warm. My throat began to hurt. He accepted and after taking our jackets we went out.
Even though it was the second week of February and the air was cold,
I felt lots better out than in.
That night we were just good friends. For the first time in my life I talked without fear with something who wasn’t Fidel or my mother. How it was possible so much confidence? We really got along.
I began to be aware of his attractive points, that little details that seemed I only could see and that made him exceptional and different.
Furthermore he always made me laugh. I was really prone to laugh back then. I was born happy. I felt the LIFE, I smelled it, I touched it and tasted it. I enjoyed…
I was in that age where every one lives their own fairy tale. And the bad thing of something so good is that you believe that is ETERNAL.
Spanish originals, 1998-2000. I must say I don’t feel the same that back then, it was a time to suffer and be abandoned by people I trusted.