Encontrarte a mitad de cuadra una pileta [container] pública y un montón de gente piola
Tocar candombe y cantar en una noche hermosa...
Para después bailar hasta el amanecer
y llegar tres dias después a tu casa sin voz con una sonrisa de oreja a oreja.
Some swiss dude, a couple of ladies and a bunch of standardized tests seem to think that I'm an INTJ.
For the last seven days I had this disease. I could not remember being this sick since I was a kid and catched chickenpox.
The first three days were like hell. Fever, alternating states of extreme coldness and warmth, generalized pain and swelling and worst of all, toothache. If I had at hand a forceps I'd disposed of half of my tooth just to make it go away. (yes, I do have a set of dentistry tools in the shack but the weather wasn't encouraging me to leave my home. No, sadly I don't have the x-ray head nor the chair. I could certainly make a good use of a dentist chair, they are really comfy.). I even had to sleep with socks and long sleeved shirts (normally, in winters like this, I sleep with no additional clothes and a quarter window opened).
The idea of spending several days doing nothing wasn't very appealing so I thought "If I'm going to be quiet doing nothing I'd better read so it's not lost time.". Well, moving was hard and trying to focus my sight on some books made me feel really odd so I strapped a wireless mouse to my chest, put a lot of blankets and the laptop on top to hold everything together. From time to time I passed out but I managed to read quite a lot, still can't make heads or tails out of some topics but it's better than nothing.
On the second day of this I gave up and it was a good move. The toothache made eating everything but liquids barely impossible and I felt weak, let alone in mood for studying.
The following days I slept in average 16 hours a day, somedays in a continuous chunk, others 8~9 and several naps. It was weird but ignoring the pain and dizziness I'd get sinusitis again just for the side-effects regarding the sleep and the dreams I had.
First. I don't know how, but I woke up like a robot for medication before the clock rung, turned off the alarm and fell asleep again just like that. And the most important, dreams. Lots of dreams, strange, livid and I remembered almost each and every one, I just wished I had taken notes because now some are fading.
I dreamt a lot with tubes, vacuum tubes. Several times I dreamt that I was in what looked like a small town, humble, electronics store of the late 40's shopping for a console radio. They were amazingly real, I could touch them, feel the veneer. I think I tried every Zenith from that era. Also I dreamt that one of my cat's nest were filled with assorted tubes, I can recall seeing a 6L6G (love that bottle shape) and a pair of 807... and 'we' cuddled by the fireplace. Yes, I'm a tubehead weirdo.
Also I had a couple of lucid dreams that I'd rather not talk about but I woke with a big big smile.
A veces me gustaría ser como el hombre de Hojalata (dejando de lado la historia que lo convirtió en tal), no solo por haber tenido la oportunidad de trabajar junto a Judy Garland sino también por carecer de Corazón. En un momento el profesor le dice al Hombre de Hojalata algo como "No sabes lo afortunado que eres al no tener corazón, nunca serán prácticos hasta que puedan hacerse irrompibles."
Qué ganas de verla que me están dando, quizás sea porque estoy en un dia medio sensible pero me estoy acordando de las frases esas que me tocan, "un corazón no se juzga por cuánto ame, sino por cuánto uno es amado", "ahora sé que tengo un corazón, porque está roto", ...
The most rewarding experience is, without doubts, receiving some warm birthday love from a complete stranger. Or an automated call at 1.30am.
"El tren para hacerse hombre pasa una sola vez en la vida"
Lo ví venir, paró justito frente a mí, siguió de largo. Un año después da marcha atrás y nuevamente abre sus puertas en mi andén. Por mas que quiera no subo. No puedo, no me animo. Un solo paso, dos palabras, me separan de la dicha mas grande. En cada despedida me muero, unos centímetros nada más hasta tu boca tan cercana, y nunca llego a ella.
El otro día aproveché que estaba lindo y no tenía muchas cosas urgentes por terminar y me fui a ver a la Nona. Como tenía la espalda algo maltrecha dejé en casa la mochila (solo salgo al super sin ella). Después me volví a pié porque quedaban como dos horas de luz.
En ese rato de tranquilidad y meditación me di cuenta que me dejé la mochila. Que estuve todo el día sin un cuaderno, sin pluma, ni lápiz, ni block de notas, sin cepillo de dientes, dentífrico, jabón, perfume y desodorante. Sin plata escondida, ni el teléfono de repuesto, ni la cámara de fotos, la llave allen y la 7/16 y adaptadores varios. Y me sentí como nunca desnudo.
El otro día iba en el micro de lo mas pancho absorto en vaya a saber qué cuando de repente se me sienta al lado una muchacha de mas o menos mi edad.
"Hola mi nombre es Adrián, me dedico a incomodar a las personas. Podría preguntarte por qué habiendo asientos vacíos decidiste sentarte junto a mi?" Le dije.
(cri cri...)