4/25/09

Too many bullets ........

Late night. Bed time. But no! My senses, feelings and thoughts have been awakened by a muse. I lifted an eyebrow and started assimilating. Stealing and conceiving. Entering her mind, giving live to images that appear when she talked. Her words were full of passion. Full of things she wanted to share, to give away, but only to me. Only to the one she loved. And I felt blessed. Blessed with her love, care, power, passion, wills to share, will to help and with that fire that I could imagine burning inside her as she spoke. I envied her one moment for this passion. I knew she had it, but it was one of those moments when I received full confirmation. Her thoughts were now mine and I, as a thief I was, stole it all away, with greed and selfishness and then I started writing:

Saint-Tropez. Sea-view terrace. Table. Rich guy. Old. His wife young in her 20's. Very beautiful. Nice smile. Black glasses. Nice purse. Perfect place. Perfect music. Reggae. SMS. Someone still loves her. Her first and only boyfriend. Their love could have bought the world. Can you see behind those black glasses? Can you see big tears held and covered by those? Can you feel desperation, hate, despair in her heart? She laughs now. Maybe the clearest and most perfect smile you could ever hear. Laughing because of the status. Laughing perhaps she feels she has to. The same real thoughts held inside her.

Motorcycle guy. In his world. Searching for the perfect curve. The engine purls. Perfect suit. Perfect weather. Perfect road. One stop. One crippled young. Maybe one day dreamer gone too far. Maybe same spirit. One cry for help. Helmet up. One Dollar could make a difference. Can you see behind his eyes? Can you feel he feels the resemblance? For one moment he thinks about ways to help the other in need. His heart beats faster. His eyes are filled with pain. He shuts the helmet and rides away. The same scenery as before. Same motorcycle suit. Same engine. Same weather. Same road.

Mid-town. London. Rolls-Royce. Black. Tinted windows. Driver. Rear passenger. Rich passenger. Red light. Stop. Young beggar stands in front of his rear window. Too young. Too dirty. Hopeless eyes. Eye contact is made through tinted window. One way. One thought. One memory. One will to help. Only one second away. Same species outside his car. Million wishes to provide. Green light now. Gone.

Teacher in her 30's. Lots of kids every day. Small village. Nice village. Nice husband. Everybody loves her. She loves everybody. She loves kids. She gives them everything. Knowledge, understanding, mother care, respect, education. Everything she would like for her children. Her children that she cannot have. She tried. And tried. She would be a perfect mother. But no.

Subway. New York. Postman. Same job for years. Same salary. Same cigars smoked. No new thoughts. No new aspirations. Subway publicity. Only one sms needed. 2 Dollars. One child needs a transplant. He reads the pane. He reaches for his mobile and writes the number. The subway came. Doors are opened. Post man presses the red key on his phone and takes the train to work.

Why? Why do this basic cowardness can make the difference? Why we, humans, cannot pass this threshold and follow our primary thoughts? Why is it only us? Why don't we care? Why this lack of involvment? Why this lack of commitment? Is this the real us? Is this all we can do? Does all the despair and suffering near us generate only these seconds of humanity? Do we need to be born again, but now on the other side to compensate for what we already done? What is humain now? What can we define as natural and real? What can we do to make us better? Where does our thoughts stop and our action end?

We do not have to chase time. Small things can make a difference. Maybe our primary thoughts are the human ones. Maybe there are too many bullets left in this world.

4/21/09

5 Seconds of glory

Hooray - and the crowd screams your name. You smile and feel magic. Feel that you accomplished what others could not. Feel that you are real and your dream come true. See a smile and appreciation on the face of the one you love and you know that sharing this is something unique, something others can only dream about and something you know it's only yours. And you want it to last forever, because, deep inside, you know that this is the real you. A real you from whom you do not have to hide. A real you that is commonly accepted and appreciated as you always wished. The real you. Somehow this moment is all you wanted. All you dreamed of and never realized how much you need this. And now you got it and don't want to let go. You are happy. Fulfilled.

STOP

Reality bites! And you remember your basic condition. You remember your needs, remember that for that person you love you can't provide, remember that you are hungry. Remember that 5 seconds later, when this all will end, you will be in the same place you were before, hiding and trying to survive, whilst keeping your dignity and your status (cause this is what society requires). Your image must be the same no matter what. Your ideas and attitude should not be altered by your desperation and search for another status, which you reveal, but don't really have. And there are many. Many others out there like this. Who claim to be at least the President when in reality they sleep in caravans. With evil thoughts and evil actions. Which, in the end, forget who they really are.
But you did not forget. You are the same. The same you were for years and years and the same you will be for years to come. And you are appreciated and loved just for your basic spirit. People love you. The same people that cannot hear your harsh reality, the same that can't comply to your shattered dreams, the ones that gave you and took part in your magic moment. The ones you shared with those 5 seconds of glory. The same you know revealing another reality. The same that individually share disbelief and resignation.

- For what? - Now, for not being you!

There are no winners here.