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At least for now ... Goodbye Darkness my old friend

I was forced.
My first I was forced to abandon all principle.
to do what he always wanted to do.
And, after all, he always was right. I saw nothing. Nothing heard. Nothing worth being told. How much spent? Semen. Months, perhaps. Months without something interesting. Months with nothing but mixed with pampering yawns yawns mixed with mixed with the obligation of pleasure. With the unbearable waiting for a freedom that is so rotten, so rotten, it is no longer sexy and passionate. It is unbearable. Have expectations, obligations and recriminations. Has anxiety, and bargaining agreements.
And couples are delivered to it. Weary of life annoyed his only recreation is necessarily tedious.
dialogues There is no surprise. There are no situations that marvel.
Everything has been reduced to a big yawn.
So beware. All of you. Take care. Take care not to go to a service station is located next to a telo. Take care not going to wait the overnight between yawns and sleepy eyes to watch. Take care. Because I was forced. To do what he always wanted to do. Slide the card all those Diablo souls so corrupted by ennui, boredom, that would give anything to have nothing.
Bye. At least for now ... goodbye.

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hear a few steps. Someone is coming. The sound of metal sliding on metal rusted rusty breaks into the silence. A light stabs in the dark. I throw a plate of food in my cell. Again, that sounds fast and torn. And again, I'm in the darkness and silence.
grope on the floor and dragged me up there. Came to the plate. Start eating, desperate. I have no idea what I'm eating but never mind.
few steps. Approach. Shit. Not so fast there footsteps.
"I come to get the dish .- grunted. All I can drink. Open the door. The light blinds me. I close my eyes. - What ... what happens?
"He wants to talk to you .- I said a voice. Two hands
me up and drag me through the green corridor through which I had brought. I left on a chair. I still can not open my eyes. But even so, I can recognize who is in front of me.
-Donato .- I get, smoking. I can not see but I can smell the snuff permeating the air. One hope permeates
my chest. - Are you going to let go?
-Donato, my proposal is simple.
I shake my head. -No.
feel the noise of the fire consuming the snuff. - All this time and not reconsider?
"Please let me go.
-Donato, Donato ... It's simple. You tell yourself over and over again. Couples who see in this little bar are anemic. Do not know what to talk. Trusted not know your wishes. Believe to be together but are miles. The table of hundred miles, remember? Go to the bar to yawn before surrendering to passion, which made only by the commitment that requires a partner. For I assure you prefer end of sleep. Do not ask for much, Donato. Just do not let them those anemic my card. I'm doing you a favor.
Perhaps what I am about to say will result in another season locked in that dark cell. But inflate the chest. "I will not return this little bar in a franchise of Hell, a place where passion can change souls. I believe we are nearing the end of gray, at the end of boredom, and everything will explode. People will wake up.
His lips they smile. -Donato, Donato ... What a shame.
- I return to the darkness?
The Devil nods his head. "Yes, you return to the dark.
Two hands grab me and drag me through corridors and stairs. I throw on a sidewalk. Close the door. I stop. I shake my clothes. There is the little bar. I see through the window, yawning while watching a couple bored with pop. "Yes, I returned to darkness.

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Pushing Daisies

- You like me?
- How?
"If you like me.
"Of course I like you.
"Physically I mean.
"Sure. Why do you ask?
"I want to tell the truth. "I'm
the saying.
"Look, I'm not angry.
"I tell you I'm telling the truth.
- Really?
"Seriously. Why Questions?
"No, nothing. A silly.
"It's not that foolish.
"Yes, lets.
"Tell me why.
"No, you're going to get mad.
"I'm not angry.
"But I saw you watching ...
- How?
"I saw you watching.
- How do you see me lookin 'at?
"You know what I mean. "You saw me looking
.
-And much, aside. I do not like that.
I do not know. The truth that I did not realize.
"By that, do you like me?
"Yes, I like you.
- Why do you look?
I do not know.
"Well, okay.
I do not know, I did not realize I say.
"Well, I do, I realized.
I do not know what you want to go.
"Do not play.
"I do not do.
"Yes, do not play the victim.
- What do you want to go?
"That I do not like you walk with me and looking well.
- Like what?
"As soon as I looked.

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Dialogue

Sometimes I like to believe that some fantasies are transferred to reality. In particular, the more enjoyable. I doubt that we like to stalk us murderers aliens or giant angry terrorize our neighborhood. But in the background, I always have liked to find certain characters. Play this little music in the background. That elegance in the decor and clothing. This occurrence in the dialogue.
careful what you wish for, claims a saying, because what you can charge. And there are just
, two of them. I rub my eyes again and again. But they remain in the bar. Finally passed. Finally a nice fantasy permeates reality.
is the man and woman of Pushing Daisies . Wonderful series, if any. Fantasy adventure that unites Amelie with Tim Burton, the fairy tales with the forensic series, the black police genre with genre.
It is not, as in the series, that wonderful storyteller with his peculiar choice of words, telling intimacies of the characters, sometimes in verse, sometimes not. There is this little music to Amelie background. But are these two. Ned and Charlotte.
Ned, is a baker boy discovered that possess a rare gift. If you touch someone died, it revives. If you touch it again, returns to being dead. And this time is forever.
A seedy detective discovers his unique ability and decides to use it to solve cases. Simple matter. Touch the deceased, asking them who killed them and return them to death. If they do, someone else will die instead. In this race
Ned gives the corpse of Charlotte. His love of children. With a slight touch on his cheek revives and then revive him all that she had felt for some time. He refuses to touch it again. Charlotte, therefore, remains alive.
And fall in love, hopelessly, like when they were children. Two lovers who can not touch. No kiss. Or a touch or hug. For the slightest touch would return to death. And there are
. In the little bar. They spent two hours while waiting to have sex and not touched even once. Or a touch or kiss. Dan
four. They get up and go. Neither are held together. Sometimes the imagination is needed to escape the world. Sometimes, to change it. And, many times to excuse it.

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His whole face is a dam. Strained every muscle. Lips tremble. His eyes are open to see where you are, sitting alone in a little bar at four in the morning to see that this is not a good place to mourn.
deflowers a tear to your face. His touch is uncertain, with self-doubt a first-time lover. But the innocence is soon removed by a quick hand and cold, a hand that understands that he must remove all traces of the tear to avoid encouraging others.
The woman is silent. Take a sip of his coffee. Lose your gaze in the window. Around him couples kiss and caress and yawn. A man trace small circles on the table with his finger. He spends his tongue between his teeth popping up against his palate. "Poor .- says.
- Who? - Meets his girlfriend.
He looks up to point to the woman with the head.
Your partner turns sitting. The studies from top to bottom with his eyes. Turns to her boyfriend. "Poor .- repeated.
-Me da cosita. Whenever I see a woman given little thing he says .- mourn. Now draw circles with your fingernails, spreading his fingers at the end of each. Looks down. Stops hand. "I just want to hug her.
"And I feel like going.
"Do not be silly. "We're not pigeon
with broken wing can soar only to be in the hands of a man.
He looks up. - Where does that leave?
She shrugs and looks away.
"Not that he insists .-" Just do not know, I'm tenderness.
"Yes, tenderness. Just that is what gives you.
He passed a hand across his face. - What do you mean? - Grumbles, with that mixture of hatred and who need to hear what is needed.
"Nothing.
"Nothing. That's right. It gives me tenderness. Poor, there, alone, at four o'clock. A point to mourn.
The woman takes a sip of soda. "Leave it there.
He sighs.
She raises her eyebrows and the least action is a caravan of reproach. Want to scream it's four in the morning, she wants to be the protagonist, that what he's looking at others, that more time should have been dancing instead of going to wait in a little bar next to a YPF. "Leave it there .- says simply.
He draws circles on the table with his finger. It sounds like the neck. In this action lies a protest parade. Want to retort that it's stupid to compete with that woman, that there are more appropriate ways to respond, and even more so at this time of night where hatred of fatigue there is only one step. "I leave it there .- repeated.
Nobody even mutters a word. He draws circles on the table with his finger. She takes a sip of soda. The woman, a mixer, cut off his second tear. The three remain suspended in their own silences.

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In his own voyeuristic introspective silences

Three-thirty in the morning. And here they are. Two friends who share a conversation between yawns and sips of soda. They are the only ones here that do not add to the ridiculous hopes of those who await the rest. Perhaps because of that rebellious teen stay up until the last stages of the night. Funny way to fight back to parental authority that marked corresponded when going to sleep. One
squints. - What Who would you like to see doing it? - long.
The other nods, smiling. An interesting question is the best catch phrase to step out of time. "Oh, I love that.
The kid slams his palms on the table. - That's why I said it, Dad! - Brags.
I do not know. So many. I would like to see their bodies. What they say. How they act. What faces get. How to scream. If they change their personalities. If the speaker is very much limited in what it does or if he seems a lot of shyness is a beast.
"It would be good, right?
still nodding his head. "I would see almost everyone.
- Skinny, too?
-Skinny too.
The kid long a shrill laugh. "I can not believe.
"I would like to see is everyone in bed, I can not apologize .- the other," What about you? - Deflected.
The other grabs the glass. - What about me?
- Who do you like doing?
He takes a sip of soda. Leave the glass on the table. I look around me couples that populate the early hours of this little bar. Breathe deeply. "Me.

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The Dark Knight Bachelor

"Yes, but suffice .- interrupted her.
The man's face tightens completely. - But ... - repeated, as if spitting out the blood of those who have received unexpected shot.
She leans back in his chair. Take a sip of soda. He looks at his eyes narrowed. "We were told to go see Batman to kill time before the rest. Do not talk all the time of the film.
He raises his eyebrows. Understand that the bullet went too deep and that no doctor, however skilled, will be able to save him. However, choose to ignore this truth and plunges her fingers, searching for the projectile. - But you did not like? - Question as successful, with effort, remove the bullet.
She nods her head. -Not bad. "Neither
for both .- Repeat.
The woman takes a drink. "Nor for both reiteration .- They were all crazy in the cinema as if I do not know ...
- What if what? - Hurry him.
"As if they were idiots .- it is encouraged.
The man looks at the bullet that was removed, soaked in blood, in his hand. It is said that survival is not been shed but knowing what to fill the gap that this has caused. "I tell you what your problem .- start it.
- What is it?
Blows neck. -Lack of myth .- man launches "That's your problem. You taught since childhood that kids do ruckus, we're more crude, we like playing, shouting and drinking. You should be sweet and delicate. They teach you to behave, because a woman must be more modest, more controlled. More restrained, say. And then you can not experience this happens to us. This devotion. This passion. Control you because you lived. Lived between diet and hoping the man make the first move, because you give evidence involves compromise. And women should not want. You must accept or decline the man's desire. That stupid girl you inlaid since you can not know what we feel in seeing there on the screen ...- recalls, his voice cracking.
She nods, slowly. Look around. Rises. "More ...- repressed repeats" I guess it's true, I lack myth .- agree with a soft voice, perhaps embarrassed "But the myth of the superhero alone. Like Batman. I always liked best the league .- narrows and goes to sit at the table of a couple.
He stares. Fails to understand what happened. Walk with your hands at the table, undecided whether to stop and look. If she returns. Or if you must go. Gradually he realizes that the last option is the appropriate. She, after all, smiling at the other table. And the couple, too.
Man for a slow play that fails to attract the attention of women. Walk out the door and out into the darkness. Thus, the Dark Knight ends up being more than one man in the city.

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- What will make the kids? He
raises his eyebrows. He shrugs. "I can not answer .-" But, sure, something fucked up. You saw how we are. We always do something fucked up for bachelor parties.
The woman smiles. Take a sip of his soda. Leave the cup on the table. Grab his hand. He bites his lower lip with a delicious wickedness. "I'm dying to see what you will. He
sidewalk. "I'm honest, I'm half scared that .- he confesses. Long
She laughed. His face immediately is filled with red. - Why? - Questions, to try to go unnoticed.
"You know. It's like a level of violence. First start with Lela. It did good. Joseph, black and I told her we fell late on departure. As soon as they took their school-friends-Ni
well they took him and the woman interrupted her .-, correct.
-you know I was joint-tontis .- As soon as he answers they took him and she repeated it, imitating the tone of voice, with Joseph and disarm the black man's car, piece by piece, and we set it in the living room of his apartment. Long
She laughed. More modest than its predecessor. "That was great .- says" Imagine opening the door to your apartment and find your car inside. "Poor
Lela. He had to disarm alone. The woman handed it insulting. And we too. But I liked Joseph's. Lela Because, obviously, wanted to send the save at the car.
- Why him? They came at three.
"You saw how Joseph.
She nods. "He's always showing off.
"Exactly. Then with Lela and black is very drunk drunk. Jose Palma. Evil, eh? That took him to a doctor acquaintance of mine who plastered the arm. The next day he did believe he had fallen and broken. The guy had to marry well.
She bites her lip while moving his head from side to side. "Poor Sandra.
-Sandra was crazy packed .- They had to cut him the sack. Well, you know. Terrible. When they returned from vacation and black Lela featured photos of us fucking and plastered and others while we tell the truth. Sandra almost takes.
She repeats the same face. "Just like you are going a little bit of mambo. As black.
He adopts a serious expression. "But when I had to do the bachelor party to black with Lela and Joseph had no more ideas. We spent day after day telling him to prepare, was coming a very screwed up. And when the black was the farewell with his wife, the kids were dry. We had no idea. Do not know what to do. He was there with his girlfriend and then went to look. We were not going to do anything. Throwing flour. Eggs. Things just like that.
"But he ran.
"The black ran. She panicked. And never came back. Fell in the afternoon the next day. "Poor Laura
.- says the woman must have felt horrible.
He raises his eyebrows. Lost his eye in the plastic cup. "That's why I left .- whispers" Yes, there we screw.
She gets rid of the seriousness that fills his face. Smile. She bites her lip as her hand touches his shoulder. "I'm dying to see what you will.
-Sep .- narrows it.
- What did you decide? - She asks as he kisses her hand to bid farewell Do you think with your wife? "I think
alone. I do not want to involve in all this madness.

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A moment

The way it is.
our average height is just over five feet and less than two. Compared with the dimensions of the universe, we are a grain of sand but not in a desert but in a world vastly larger than Earth.
live between seventy and ninety years ago. This means that if the total time on Earth, from its inception until now, was a year, our whole life would be significantly less than one-twelfth of a second in that year.
Having this idea in his head at half past three and step wiped the counter of a small bar is an invitation to suicide. Overall, if we are a ridiculous fraction of time and space, why would something so serious suicide? A gun on my temple. Some of Bach in the background. Squeeze the trigger and leave the pettiness to embrace nothing.
my suicide contemplation is interrupted when a couple asks me Coca Cola. I wonder if all clients will think like small bars in the universe that lies behind their caregivers. Or if you just see something in human form is functional to them what they want. I'm a little slow for my internal dialogue and the man snorts grumpy. I smile. I did waste a ridiculous fraction of time greatly in the total time on Earth. But even so, I give the Coca and smile as my boss forced me.
He pulls out his wallet and women, with wheezing, is quick to pay. "You keep your machismo .- babbles her while I get the silver.
The man shrugs. "You too.
incline his head slightly. Like when someone hears something interesting. I guess flip through your conversation while waiting for is an interesting circumvented overnight suicide. Anyway, I did not bring anything of Bach. Neither the gun, fear not. The
I can smell. I love when students come to the little bar Letters. Philosophy Social Communication and well. Dumped as much passion to the critical discourse of an object distance of the object. Even though this object is the reason why they are in the little bar at half past three while waiting for the rest.
"The woman is undoubtedly best poetic image that man .- she argues.
He smiles, almost arrogant. "Do not you realize that your pseudo-feminist stance is an echo of machismo, and is so echo is functional. You say that women are more poetic because you see through the male gaze. A man who does not see himself as beautiful. How poetic. You say that is because it is natural, because it looks the body of man and the woman's body, is common sense say, but there are centuries behind your common sense.
"That's where you are wrong. Reading a bit, using this ... - she says, pointing to his head can take a small step to the side of time. As I pass
wiped the counter asked me what will build a small step to the side of less than one twelfth of a second.
The man leans back in his chair. "You take a step back to say the same things said centuries ago. It's like that concept to analyze from a stranger. Nothing is extraneous. Everything is built and everything is planned. Everything
-Back-symbol .- complete she went to the same theory.
He nods. "Exactly.
- But I am going to deny that between our legs we had no wars, sleeplessness, poems, symphonies, misery and virtues?
-No. But it was a tragedy for your position to say that. Why put women as indirect objects of symphonies and wars and not highlighted as subjects. It is true that. And dry. As the muse that inspires does not create.
"But without his touch, is non-
machismo disguised that. Poetic, but in disguise. Because women stealing our creative subject.
She moves her head from side to side, accepting his defeat discourse. "Right. But there are hundreds of writers and-
"Yes, yes. That is and nobody denies it. But here, "he says, pointing to his head is the idea of \u200b\u200bart of a man digging a muse, seduction of a man approaching him with a woman. There is a social issue and anatomical domain of penetration. And
economic domain.
He nods.
"It's quite tragic. But that common sense will be detonated. Man's time finally arrived.
A couple of minutes in a year. The time came quickly, I think.
- Do you think? - Encourages him, I think this tragedy is so deep in our flesh that is difficult remove. Without going any further, you, with all your feminist views and positions, I look good, you derretís in bed when I tell you you're my bitch.
She opens her eyes, annoyed. Look around to make sure no one listened. "I like that feeling to belong .- answer, shrug.
I never thought I would create something so sweet.
They kiss. Finally. They kiss without the laziness of those couples that are already known. They kiss as if for the first time. Or the last. Now, forgetting and losing the critical discourse on the object, now they understand. I do know is a fraction of a moment to waste no time. Beautiful concept. But I have to pass the cloth on the counter to pay rent.

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There is tension between them. Neither your skin is taut. Years, even decades, have been together. They know their bodies, their scents and secrets. And here they are, at three in the morning, sharing a coffee while waiting for the night.
may have come to have a little privacy. To feel again couples and parents who do not secretly, whispering and mouths covered. You may have just begun to flow. She lives with her mother and gives you itching to go on their first meeting at his house. But no. Repeat. There is tension between them. This is not the first time. This is the calm of two bodies known, want.
-Love .- she says, stirring the coffee.
He raises his eyebrows lazy, waking up the dream of touching they shared. - Yes, darling? - Slipping between his lips. "I was thinking .-
she adds, leaving stir to bring the cup to his mouth" I think there's a girl at work that likes me .- says, to take a sip of coffee.
The man coughs. It happens this way, after all. The cough is more predictable response to something unexpected. - What? - Says, "How? Who?
-A new girl twenties. Do not know her .- she adds. Leave cup on the table. Puts a little more sugar. Stir. Take another sip. "Therefore, I was thinking in a fantasy I have ... - adds, unfinished, fully aware of the power that prayer has to be left unfinished.
He runs his hand through his hair. Contained in the middle of the action, pretend scratching. Settles into the chair and takes a calm expression. Or at least he tries. "Yes, what were you thinking?
"I want to see us.
-That the display.
The woman nods, somewhat embarrassed. - Is not it crazy?
The man sighs. I do not know whether to call it. But how ...? "You would know ...?
She sensed the question. I do not know how to propose something. But if the desire is, find its way.
His smile is from ear to ear. - What is desire?
She smiles in the same way. -No. But how passionate you are going to be today.
Tension has returned. How wonderful.

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3 and 4 and 5 and ... "At last they were applauded Tarts .- one bar before the uncomfortable smile of his girlfriend.
The two men stopped before opening the door, as if suspended. They stood hand in hand. One squeeze of the other. And the other too. "They have difficulty walking
.- laughed the first- What could they have gone through-
Both revolved before the question for clarification of their imbecility.
"Boys ... - calmed.
In just a moment, insults stabbed the air, fists wore faces, hands flaunted blood of others and my suspension broke on my grind. Donato
at the corner. To think what he has done. Not to be soaked in this world. Simply take a small step back and call security. Or that you did not understand, Mr. Cavallini? "From behind the counter looked as he saw? Did not see that it is safer to live there?
Maybe I did not see you, sir. I was wrong. Give me bonnet, pégueme in nails with the rule and tell me when will my punishment.
in two weeks.
So here we are.
Here we are, Donato.
was two weeks.
spent two weeks, sir. Think back
soaked world?
Apuéstelo.

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1, 2, 3 y. ..

He kisses her hand. He also.
And, in that privacy, shade dress looks around the bar.
The Greeks went to the kisses long before the supposed birth of Christ, being an atheist makes me adjectives but not to sell me from the Devil. But even so, much time later, two guys walk to the cause stinging kisses.
Two women. Because it is more accepted. Years of pornography designed by men and subtle, sometimes not so much, move to advertising have made it more socially accepted homosexuality in women. To the extent that women are not homosexual. The word homosexual is associated with men. Women are lesbians. An extra word. Others. Detached, etymologically, to the sexual. The homosexual is a man of the same sex. Lesbian, a woman playing with each other.
2500 years and continues to cause itching.
is ridiculous.
how ridiculous its opposite, that we Hygienic acceptance sells television. Series where a homosexual confesses his status before his family and they embrace it, saying they are proud. "Heterosexuals have to do that too?
"Dad, I like women .- largaría, with a lump in the throat.
He would hug me. "Well, son, okay ... Will accompany you in this .- say, almost in a whisper.
Is it acceptance or is sad?
In the optimistic case of acceptance question ... why? What business have parents in their children's sexuality?
"Now, all good, right? But can not save your kisses for telo?
Suddenly, my questions are succeeded by the question of a bright customer. Tolerance exists until the moment in which one is steeped in what it tolerates. Otherwise it is inconceivable and that tolerance is untenable. Implies a suppression of aggression, discrimination, awaiting the moment to go politically correct-series as Will & Grace , jokes stands up, talks beside the water dispenser. O come, weary of waiting, they explode in the most unexpected moment.
- Hip! What or - hip! Official ---?
"Mr. Mel Gibson, I do not know if you noticed, but passed a red light.
-the fault of the damned Jews.
As absurd as the real context was due because tolerance could no longer bear the body and threw up. Because the difference with the Jews-in this case was not accepted. Was tolerated. And, like any resistance-whether spiritual or a coffee machine to keep running, eventually ends up melting. The two gay
up and, hand in hand, leave the bar. I wonder how much will the resistance to collapse. 1, 2, 3 y. ..

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Her lips are folded, and suddenly the world makes sense only by her smile. Grab his hands and kisses them. The man does the same with hers. They look in the eyes without saying a word. Only sigh at the same time seeking to entwine their breaths. And so hard to breathe the air that was inside the lungs it is now in the depths of him, and vice versa. Intoxicated by this ethereal toast, smiling and squinting eyelids, never stop looking at their eyes.
In an unexpected moment, she looks down. His fingers move over the table in small circles. He looks at her, confused, and suddenly the few inches that separated them have become entire oceans. Man seeks
her hands but she slides down the table, hiding. Both remain silent, as a ballet dancers suspended in the dark while waiting for the music to continue to keep dancing. The orchestra plays in the woman's chest and up either at the moment, climb the notes.
She leans back in his chair. Ponderous guillotine falls on their breaths intertwined. Flapping like a fish out of water jumping the two ends of this embrace ethereal. Soon they end up bleeding to death and back to being just air.
him, confused but cautious, slide your hands across the table toward her. The leaves it there, exposed, and the offering. She purses her lips and takes his eyes out at the station. The man's hands remain in that ridiculous pose, uncomfortable and, as a fifth major chord with the seventh that refuses to resolve in tone. She drags
, with difficulty, his gaze to his eyes. The man raises his eyebrows, inviting her to speak. She sighs. - How are we going to do - she says.
He smiles. Takes her hands and kisses them. He shrugs and sighs. His breaths are reunited in an embrace invisible, misunderstood and alone, as the link between any pair. Decide

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Embrace The perversity of being incriticable

stop listening to the ticking of the clock while I wait. And extensive dredging of my ears. Tenth .-
"But reiterated him you do not give you anything that she is your best friend?
She pouts. "No, unless you give something to you to be your girlfriend.
The man nods. "Yes, but what's mine is yours, infidelity and
.-" So is she rushes.
He moves his head from side to side. "It is, in a sense. But I want to know is if-
"I know what you want to know the woman interrupted .- And the answer is yes. Warms me sleep with my best friend's boyfriend. Step
cloth across the counter. I stretched with subtlety. Maybe to hide my desire to laugh and applaud as a child at Christmas. Yes, he was right. It was a good choice again hear the dialogue that people these tables. At least, they are less repetitive than the damn ticking clock that denotes the absence of Cecilia.
The man nods, pleased. The woman raises her eyebrows, impatient of the silence. - How about you?
"Yes."
"Yes."
"Yes .- Seeing them together," he says. She trusts you, you feel closer to you when you know what you're doing, and you ... suspended in the delicate balance between feeling superior to her because I want is you and less because my love is it.
She shrugs. Sigh. "What love is whether the deception.
"With your best friend .- narrows it, enjoying it. She
gives nodding. "Call it what you like is to see you in me. Because you like me talking to her, looking into her eyes, shaking hands, hugging, with the same skin, same fingers and the same mouth that ate up her boyfriend. What to you is to look at you like your infidelity on condition of anonymity. Finding a spit in the middle of something neat. As thousands of footprints discovered something that he held to be untouchable. Found in to see me talking to her bid certain powers. I desire. She love. A bid of power as there is in any infidelity. Only in this case you move from the auction. Back to blame for eroticism.
The man stops the flight of just knitting language lips. "Yes, yes.
"We are a perversion spiral .- proposes it.
He is silent. Walk with your hands at the table. "Before enjoying a relationship. Then, of infidelity. Now, of an affair with her best friend. This accursed race have the newest gimmick, the latest phones, modern eroticism. What is the next step?
She leans back. "See how she gives me pleasure while I will look into your eyes. Approximately
9282291181938393 words run into the man's mouth. Only one gets out. - C-how? - Stammering, stuttering. For up just get out, as the hero who slides his bike under a truck.
She smiles and says not a word as well known as the erotic is inconclusive. However, we are in year 15 of the Age of the understatement, where everything there is to explain about the end of the film, which the woman continues. "That stroking her hair while she's between my legs and I saw, and it gives me pleasure and you even see us leave without knowing that I sleep with you. That the same body erotic, secret, it hurts.
- Is ... can?
She smiles. "Anything is possible.
The man does not move but, in its stillness, denotes the same person she rubs her hands and licks while provides a piece of meat that is about to be removed from the fire. "Without doubt we are not two moral creatures.
-Lo are, we are denying women .- "But if we consider that morality is entirely relative no way, beyond relativism cloudy, to criticize our choice.

Nadine Jansenvacation

A woman on the other Carnival

"Oh, Donato, Donato ...
I shrug. "I know.
The Devil gives him a puff on his pipe. "The prelude to the disappointment is even etymologically, illusion.
I take a sip of tea. I put the cup on the saucer porcelain. The accommodation. "I suppose you would not get my hopes economic emotionally .- I agree, running the tips of my fingers on the edge of the cup.
"No doubt it would.
My fingers stop and feel the smoke area stretching in the palm of my hand. "But there is nothing economic in that woman.
He nods. A smile on his face, behind the tired ballet that comes from his pipe. "If not, you had not come twice to Hell for it. Moreover
-being atheist .- added.
The Devil smiles.
"I thought the bar that has pictures of strawberries was the bar where she would confess," I said .- that every time he came to see me leave me clues. Strawberry always asked pills. So ...
"But no.
.- "But I repeat, grabbing a cup of tea.
The Devil gives him a puff on his pipe. Lazy through me with his eyes half closed. "I guess you did not come here just to tell this failure.
"True .- I say, and took a sip.
"Not for a social visit.
I shake my head. "I'm an atheist .- repeat.
, who is forced to attend a scenario that does not believe, lies in the ease of stereotypes.
- which would mean ...?
"You come to a deal.
nod. I put the cup on the saucer porcelain. The accommodation. "I want to see it again. She. A Cecilia.
- And in return?
"I am a soul. "Your soul .-
corrected.
"No, no. A soul. The .- say it, and pointed to Nadia-Me has been following for a while and I quite frankly annoying. Nadia
stop taking pictures to Hell with his cell phone and turns to me. - How?
The Devil agrees. Stretch your hand through the smoke of his pipe.
-moment, time slows .- Nadia-Only I can decide on me.
He smiles. "Please, do not be naive .- retorted, shaking his hand with mine.
Nadia looks at us, without understanding what happened.
"Thanks for the tea.
The Devil accommodates his gallery, nodding.
I get up and look between the rocks, the first rung of the ladder E subway line leading to the city. Nadia, back, scream. Cecilia, in front, waiting.

How Do You Know If Its Implantation

The time is squeezed, lingering, as in the surreal series Carnivàle which takes ten hours to make something happen.
I see.
I can see in his eyes.
In the eyes of Nadia.
Cecilia wants to seduce. Want to go with her to a table and sit back and interlace your fingers. Want to flirt with her while I watch. Want to caress not gouge my eyes off her. Wants to leave the little bar next to him. And he wants to return, after having kissed, touched, licked, bitten and devoured. Wants to return and show off their lips, those lips just proven what I always wanted. And so we want to be kissed. Feel to the taste and scent of Cecilia in it. That kiss, the caress, the scratch, seeking to find Cecilia under your skin. And when the desire to possess me completely no trace of the other. Only there is Nadia. Haughty. Sensual. Superior. Imposed on my impossible love, which demolishes with every kiss you give. Feeling that I belong. The oceans that Cecilia woke up in my chest are just a puddle compared to what Nadia awakens in me. Nadia
begins, slowly, to seduce her in front of me. A little man on my right shoulder pajero applauds. A dwarf in love on my shoulder left are regrets.
I see.
I can see in his eyes.
In the eyes of Nadia.
I will.
But even in the very slow rate of Carnivàle unforeseen happen.
I do not know where you think that we know .- says Cecilia "But I come to buy pills strawberry. Nadia
smiles. "Me too, I love pills-
She shakes her head, interrupting. "I do not want to sound rude but I give a damn.
a damn I said. I love it.
soak But I'm tired of her chest. I soak her lips. Shift to my left. I see the piece of paper he had written. A carnival ignored is not a carnival, leo. "I found the bar spit .-, confused, looking into her eyes. Cecilia
caresses me with his eyes. "I know. Nadia
feels left out. In an instant went from being the tamer of the oceans to a puddle. And his vanity will not allow it. "I know which bar-
" I do know he replied .- Cecilia.
"If you told me what ... - please.
My impossible love shakes his head. "Every time I come give you a clue and still you did not notice .- confesses to retire. Walk slowly toward the door. Still slower than a chapter Carnivàle.
Carnival.
A carnival of ideas, moments and possibilities giddy run to my throat. "I know what the bar .- whisper. Nadia
smiles. "Perfect, because I follow you there.
In life, as any carnival, one is chasing horizons and being chased by shadows.

Will Your Balls Hurt If You Have An Hernia

The Crow

Hell There is no greater than two coexisting Heaven.
"I'm the fun of reading you. I do not want that. I want to be your muse .- calls and insists the beautiful Nadia. A
-icing pads, please .- ask for it, my lost love. It does so softly, shyly getting into the conversation.
I look like someone who sees a toy for children, petting eye to that bit of plastic that hides oceans. Then twist to it. To another. By Nadia. She also is looking.
Basta.
I want to stop time and raise a cry of Chinese walls and towers of Babel between the two women. Cecilia
-slides .- Nadia.
The other looks at her, confused. - Yes? - Says.
Cecilia. Her name is Cecilia.
Basta.
I want to take the path of endless yellow Wizard of Oz and Nadia cover her mouth with it. Round and round and round about his head would the trail. Until that neither word nor cry of his can be heard.
-Cecilia .- Nadia insists, smiling. Turn to me and stared at the mine, like Poe's raven sank his beak into the heart of the hurt lover.
know.
Nobody knows.
know that my happiness or misery depends on my goodness or wickedness.
That there is no way to stop it.
That I am yours.
I belong.
- Have we met? - Cecilia risks, sweet, naive, unaware of this circus of evil. Nadia
sighs deeply. - If we know? - Repeat, to gain time, that I feel his beak sunk to unimagined depths of my heart.

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prefer

The old covers her face, about thirty years younger, with the tip of your index. Draw a circle on his forehead down between his eyebrows, nose down, sliding down her cheek, caressing her lips, then his chin to drop by your neck, slowly, fall off and fall to the suggestion of her breasts and then stop at the precise moment in which he knows nothing stops him. She breathes deeply and smiles, his eyes closed. He does not smile. You can not. Would reveal his metaphysics.
He is the last vampire.
Right. The last vampire lives here in Buenos Aires. Perhaps
came to rest in Buenos Aires for these oversights edilicias that one can easily confuse them with a melancholy city. It is the last and feel nostalgic.
is an old skinny, gray, not much hair but the one you have long hair. Gray mustache, eyes black as night and look sad and tired.
is the end of his lineage.
And, if so, not because he has not bitten. Because such talk is nonsense that one can get something as metaphysical as the vampire with just a bite. Today we have developed antibodies to such sensitivities.
is alone.
As many of us. Virus
infertile, unable to drench the world with our presence.
He, however, continues to seduce girls and lingering on every kiss you give them in the neck. Feel their perfumes and stretches its fangs, patting his fur smooth and ignorant de la noche que se despliega ante ellas.
Apenas las muerde.
Apenas.
Si las muerde es apenas. Sus colmillos tan sólo se posan sobre sus cuellos. Es el pecho de él el que se desgarra con estos mordiscos. Se desgarra con lo que fue, con lo que no es y con lo que no será.
Con la soledad del que no trasciende sus propias fronteras.
Al menos eso me imagino mientras le besa el cuello.
Prefiero pensar que es el último de los vampiros en vez de ser un viejo que le pagó a una mina cualquiera. Que ella se presta a ser penetrada por una noche que jamás la podrá habitar en vez de haber cobrado unos pesitos. Prefiero pensar que vi mal y que Nadia no está entrando.

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The unexpected (II)

Todas las posibilidades writhe in just a moment.
What this woman wants money. You want to stop writing. Who wants to sleep with me. He wants revenge because I narrated the story unfairly. Although not remember doing it. A woman like that is impossible to forget. Who wants to destroy. Who wants to love me. You want something that certainly I do not want.
The possibilities are unfolding and unfolding. But she is, I said and I repeat, the unexpected.
- Blackmail? - Wonder.
She nods. Korea-blackmail .- "I have printed your text and I go bragging couples per couple. If one does not like to realize some things about her boyfriend, do you think that you would like half world does?
I scratch my nose. -Bueh half the world ... So many people do not enter the blog .- commented, to divert attention and save time.
The woman does not fall into the trap. -Donato, I-
I do not know your name .- interrupt, naive, believing that the fact to know and build trust demolish any possibility of blackmail.
She smiles. "Nadia is presented .-" Now, Donato ... - reiterates "What I want is simple.
The possibilities are strangling in my brain.
- Yes?
answered "Yes .--I want to be here.
want to be here.
Sigh. - And that would be ...?
His face adopts a certain shyness. "I want to write about me .- I trust.
slowly nod to finish with a shrug. - What you could not come up with a boyfriend and no blackmail involved?
"No understand. I want to be your muse. "My muse .-
repeat.
She smiles. "I appear in your stories. To write about me. And write about that Cecilia. That, incidentally, I do not like one bit.
hit my palate with the tongue. "Look, I can not promise anything but I'm sure if you come here with your boyfriend ... - insist, While it would be like forcing the state-
-No I want that .- retorts.
"I do not want to force anything. Nadia
laughs. -No. I do not want to come here with my boyfriend. Imagine. Sure you do. And surely you'll do it. Or everyone here will find out what you do while pretending to clean the counter. And I think they're going to lynch, Donato. And they're going to fire .- rebukes, with a gentleness that belies his words. He raises his eyebrows and big eyes devour me. - What do you think?
- What I ...? - Babble while I scratch my chin, I think you have serious problems.
- Problems?
nod. "All vanity. And insecurity. I think you have the fantasy to be the Titanic minita posing naked before a man who paints, who is venerated. Want to get on a pedestal. And on a pedestal intangible apart. A pedestal comfortable, secure, remote. Without the ability to see you, touch you. Without the ability to feel vulnerable. Because what I want to feel is to be an object of desire but a desire that can not achieve. Vague because it remains unchanged. Remains eternal. We do not rule out vague, do not get rejected. Your world is purely masturbatory. And you're not even original in this stupidity. The world is saturated with reverse voyeurism. So I think.
She remains silent. He asks me some pills but I do not respond strawberries with no movement. Just look at her. Take a step back, and then another. And then another. So leave the little bar.
Sigh. "I think that what we think really work .- mumbled.
And then I see out the window. Take a leaf and placed against the glass. A Tachito throws up something that looked like glue and press hard. Couples who are in turn to her, confused. Start reading. I run in desperation.