Babel from my meanderings.
-Can you control love, the waves of time? Is it so easy to say one moment I love you and the next to change what it is you feel as if it were some on off switch. And when I looked into her eyes, the tears flowing lightly down her cheek and falling onto the pillow. She covered her face with her hands and every time I tried to remove her hands she asked me if I liked to see her cry. I told her then that love is like the ocean, it comes in tides and ours was at […]
-“It’s not a big thing,” she says, her lips quivering as her eyes fall from her solid stare into me. “Sometimes it’s nothing, I mean, when I feel there’s something in me and I feel like something, then it may be something and it may bother me. But sometimes, and I feel this more often, I feel this something’s left me and I feel nothing, I feel like nothing and then it’s nothing,” tears, now, shaking themselves from her hazel eyes. As I sit there, across from her, her eyes turned to the ground, tears cascading down as the strands […]
-“Con cuales ojos vez al mundo?” le pregunta el. Sentada en una silla, frente la vantana mientras cai la lluvia afuera. Cada gota le oscurese la cara, a como va resbalandose por la ventana. Siente el frio del vidrio, empapado con el sudor del aliento de ambos. Lo mira a el, y la perturba una media sonrisa que de pronto como llego, se pierde. Las lagrimas tristes de la lluvia siguen corriendo en la sombra caida a su rostro. Quisiesen caer junto ellas, las lagrimas que tanto ha guardado entre su vida, lagrimas que cada una contiene algun recuerdo doloroso […]
-Do those who leave ever look back? There’s a question in his head that he can’t answer. It bounces around and resounds, so that when the phone rings, he loses all concentration. He ignores the ringing and tries to stop the echoes of the question, and the memories they drudge up, of a past that’s long been lost. In this attempt, as the echoes lose themselves in the memories, he starts to wonder if what he misses are the people who etched themselves into his memory or if in fact the memories could have been created without them. It makes […]
-I sit, the cold wind, uncomforting me, and you, shivering. The words carried away, we’re left in silence with nothing but gestures and stares. You half smile, as if trying to salvage something that’s already been lost. I can’t smile back, not even faintly, and it hurts. I know that’s all you want, a reply. To know that like you, I will dig deeper, even if in vain for a finite ephemeral moment of bliss, but I know it’s not there. It goes, with the long passages of time that disappear before me and suddenly I realize I’ve gotten older […]
-Entre los rastros de su memoria, no encuentra ni uno, entre los momentos de su juventud, en cual la felicidad fue inequivoca. Menos en su adolescencia de huerfano entre padres vueltos a la adolescencia si mismos. Llenos en plenitud de la importancia solitaria de ambos. El dolor de aquellos años persiste dentro de el, escondido, como la fundacion de su propia autoestima quebrantante. Y de quien fue la decision del abandono, del joven que fue, cuando en una juventud perdida buscaba alguna salida de le inseguridad propia que lo llenaba de inciertitudes. Fue esta que acabo por dejarlo alejado de […]
-El, sentado en el balcon, como un hombre bajo sequestro en aquel espacio pequeño. El humo creando un atmosfero.de nubes a su alrededor. Las luces de la ciudad, encendidas, pareciendo estrellas distintas en la distancia. Y no permite levantarse de esa silla, que el estar sentado mantiene los pensamientos a su alcance. Aunque el viento empieza en la oscuridad de la noche, el se acomoda para una larga sesion de intento. “No es el acto” le dijo a ella, “pero intentar.” Haci es como el lo ha descubierto. En las largas meditaciones en el silencio de la noche. No ha […]
-You tell yourself, you’ve come so far and overcome much but then you close your eyes and when you open them you find yourself a retrograde. In a shell you sometimes overcome, but only in brief instances. Each time it’s like an awakening. A new breath. When your lungs collapse upon themselves, you’re once again crushed within the small confines of that shell. You ask yourself, why each breath is so short, why each awakening is only momentary. In the haze of smoke, you start thinking about the blue pill, the one you took in college. The one that didn’t […]
-Una nota de caridad, por lo menos, le pide el. Pero ella nunca fue buena para esas cosas. “Lo puequeno,” dice ella, “nunca me a importado.” La tristeza en los ojos de ambos, no deja ni pista de los acontecimientos de sus vidas, tanto la de el como la de ella. Pero el dolor los detiene junto una felicidad inalcansable, pase lo que pase. “Siempre pense que era lo puequeno que traia la felicidad,” le comenta el. Ella, casi en lagrimas y casi hysterica de riza por su commentario le responde, “y ahora te das cuenta, que la felicidad es […]
-The sun hides behind the clouds, leaking pathways of light in a soft diffused manner. The city seems quiet, only the sound of traffic as cars speed by, in lonely procession. My eyes wear a heavy coat and my eyelids nearly collapse. Smoke waves through my fingers as the cigarette in my hand turns to ash and I drift in and out of half dreamt dreams. In the interspersed moments of consciousness in hazy thoughts, I wonder about the rose’s robe and the messages carried on a butterfly’s wings. On days like these, when the sky has lost its color, […]