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A Tear

A tear is much more than tears or laughter, the joy or pain or impotence.

is an ocean of feeling compressed perfume an emotion packed in essence, is to embrace a caress, is the prologue of a book, or its outcome, the last images of a shipwreck and the first ray of sun on a morning that you want to start, it's all still to be within a drop, it's a timely coincidence, is to feel that reading is listening and writing is that it is to guess a smile behind a face, is a kiss on the eyelids, is old thinking about the future and remembering the age even past is to be born and let die, is undone, as a sign of humanity and is ultimately mean more than you can.

why I got them a tear, which went well, without asking Laura, Florence, Marco Fabio and knowing that there are many more (Bibi, Oscar), who seem to have the same names for them. ---------------



really should have told the seven odd hours I spent with Sherita and Caterpillar, but I thought it would be very obvious. Just say it was one of those moments when you want the time were circular to repeat again and again. Anyway, almost imaginary tear appeared to relive those moments and put them next to those where an old lined box, stored in high memory where are stored the most precious things.

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Tonight

When

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A Special Type

Air's first flight was about to leave Bruges and Cinderella's pumpkin in syrup inevitably fell due to the last stroke of twelve. A new night, slept in Blogolandia between sheets of costumes and winking fireflies in the monitor (actually I think I was falling asleep).

He dropped his pants bright orange and yellow cape wearing it as a private citizen and hid behind a pair of round glasses to avoid being recognized or being sincere to recognize someone, without them did not see nor his own face in a mirror (some would consider it a superpower). Believing

identity hidden enough, wanted to take flight when someone suggested she wear the rest of his body, was not a pleasant sight too Daniela see him naked even when screaming unsuccessfully insisted otherwise.

Heeding the recommendations, dressed in a furry white fur coat that matched her shoes Topper, then yes, raised his hands to fly. At that moment, he noticed that he had forgotten to wear deodorant. To their chagrin, the ball was dry, but cleverly took the Efficient and downloaded it repeatedly under your arms.

Now, career took y. .. sat on the computer, upset with his misfortunes at night; be why, kicked involuntarily, unplugged all or perhaps it was the itching that began to become unbearable.
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By supporting their hands on the keyboard, though all had been forgotten and a waste of unusual sensitivity began to invade the cyber world.

When you look at the screen as if you peep in the window of a neighbor's house to greet him, discovers through the steamed-up windows which attempt to find out the true picture of the homeowner, many times those approaches or scribbles, which form drawing with a finger on the glass steam have to do with reality, in others only make out the part you want to be shown and sometimes can not even imagine.

Corsi, always open windows as if to share the same air that passes by and you do not guess. Will the openness, caring giver without looking much comes across flawlessly or to feel a hug when you say it. Is that what makes a special, so special that you would wish it so, outside the ordinary.

Corsicarsa The World take a break because talks with Guada be worth much more experienced than me and told me okay ... although he will be missed.

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The People

do not know if she had learned to speak when crawling on rubber checkered tablecloth that my grandmother had in their land forever.

This village, which came one day my grandfather for work and fell under the charms of India that made old by his side, gave birth to my parents who, like many others migrated to secondary diploma go no more than visit.

child under my eyes was a paradise, I arrived there many Decembers to make long until February to live a lot of things that he had dreamed in the big city, perhaps so simple they were.

is true that being under the umbrella of protective grandparents often very different (and significantly advantageous) to listen to parent educators, or that life is at summer themselves attractive to lack of teachers who ask the lesson, but I think it was the only reason for my love for the people, or at least not to my memory.

streets, some paved, some dirt, they were places you could walk kicking cans. Any vacant lot immediately became a soccer field that was filled with kids, the teams were of the number of people who have and no one knew when the game ended. Hang out with the bike to go play tag in the square, until a fall did bleed a knee, did not require special permission and never missed an invitation to a field where they could ride a horse.

Best, without doubt, was unconsciously jump from rooftop to rooftop, but I guess that also could have done in my city and maybe I'm missing accomplices.

Strangely, or not, the teen made me change, the people who had loved me, deceived me suddenly and, enraged, began to take some anger.

I guess we will all have been to blame. To me, I will hit some of the arrogance of Buenos Aires and adolescents in the village were infected by the disease so common that those places full of intolerance and aggressiveness free for those coming from the Capital.

Walking through the late teens and began to walk my golden years "twenty" , the people and I, we were separated in fact, but even when the above reasons subsisted, were no longer the most important problem. I guess at that time, so we had apart was the lack of options he gave me, a film (or two), a nightclub for dancing (if opening a new one, closing above), a couple of pubs and , inevitably, the same people everywhere. A woman win, or try, was certainly taking it away from other known and not become the "boyfriend" after the conquest, almost an affront to female much of the place.

All this, for those who came from the range of alternatives that are often offer large cities, was, at best, boring.

Today, without the need of those years and the views absolutely careless of others, I can still see the people with my eyes aged, calm, and if he had so many chains that bind me to where I live, I could fall in love madly it, to traverse and inhabit in those summers as a kid. ----------------


This story, which originally was to be a comment, was inspired by the post of Shere The site where we are .. .

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A strange mix of José Sacristán and sat Hugo Varela front of me. Our common past, if it had rested on countless chat messenger who kept in memory any misunderstanding, many discussions and constant feeling that the other side was a young dreamer aged one day he decided to tell their nightmares generating In view of all an image not in keeping with what might spy behind the words.

I did not ignore that image, but after a telephone conversation, I decided not to risk my children to a meeting that could be dark, sad and potentially boring for them, in view of his kid and his mood would not be.

I think it was wise decision, even if it was successful, but not get ahead, go to the top. Sone

the doorbell several times with no response, as is my custom had been promised time and even figured I could not be, after all in that telephone conversation prior to the mania that bark in the distance that has not been shown much looking forward to the meeting. Tired of the bell, gave three knocks on the door and immediately heard a few steps and a hurricane that swept across the floor to finish at the bottom of the window watching. The father and son opened their doors to me much more than a house. I do not know how

long it takes to feel comfortable but should not have been much, because I can not remember a moment of discomfort. The mate came and went as words, while a plate of biscuits for fat raleaba.

I proposed order pizza and Manuel smiled happy, Fabio choripanes offered to go to eat and the dwarf gave him the right. "It's a Morasso" said proud dad. Choris not think that was a big deal (he says yes) but when we returned there was the best image of this first meeting: Manuel, Fabio and I walk embraced returned to the house. Even now I remember and the feeling was that of being a family (I would become a kind of guy). We talked

all, or a lot, but the talk is infinitely less important than I did.

imagined the encounter in many different ways, but several of them, hoping to find a guy up, as hopeless as his texts say, it was not. Fabio told, as so often, their misadventures and misfortunes ( only when it comes to economic ), but also told me of dormant projects that have generated some kind of light, but feels that it is not more than flame of a candle in the middle of the storm.

I think he, in part, is that a rider thrown to the ground by the horse, insulting as it prepares to rise again, even if you think it will be turned back.

'd say both father and son from their encounters and differences, their transparency and openness, their property and their best, their smiles and glances, their words and silences ... and me, with so many internal commotion. But I think enough to say that I can not imagine having gone better.

There was a second meeting, and with my family, with Ati and Nacho, but I leave for the next post.