Literary Intermezzos

Wednesday, June 11, 2008, 4:37 PM

After being rudely awaken by some fat chick to do something important, I sit here now on my bed, once again, annoyed at not being able to do anything. As I had promised before to catch up on some literary styling, I feel the need to do it now. Realizing that promise, I think I will write a few short texts, just to see if I can. Now I am not stressing how difficult it can be. Writing is a drag at times. Ok here goes.

Imagine seeing everything in a darker point of view. Not because you have a black heart, but because you refuse to take off your sunglasses. If I recall it correctly, the sun always shines for fabulous people. Wasn’t that what Stephany told me ages ago? Back when I used to look up to her.
You don’t hear me walking down the hallway; my half stinky adidas flip-flops don’t make me catch attention. The only sounds that can be heard are the rustling of the leaves in the trees, the strong gusts and the thunder rumbling from afar. It is extra dark now because the sun is hiding behind the clouds. Its cold.
The stairs look art deco, no unnecessary flingflangs or thingamajigs decorating it, just plain granite slabs. Simplistic, and functional. I am walking through the walkway of a big cuban university. Everything is simplistically built and serves an important function. The money to diversify and bedeck doesn’t exist here.
I am supposed to enter this small room. I am supposed to fulfill an important task in this room. I am supposed to take an action that might change my future forever. But I do not think of these things as I step into the well lit room. It is colder than outside.

The strange and imposing woman asks me for my ticket. I look at her. Her dress is ripped in some places, but not so visible as she has sowed the rips closed. She is a bit overweight as I can hear her pants screaming. They also do not match her top. Her shoes are of the old spice-girl-platform-sandal kind. Old and worn out like the wrinkles on her face. But she looks proud. She looks like she is fulfilling a special function. Complying with the task that has been put onto her existence.
Do I care about all these things?
I used to. I used to keep in mind all these things in the past. But that was before I changed. Before I started looking at the bigger picture. Before I grew up. I changed before I even noticed it happened.
So I gave her my ticket with a smile, I was trying to let her know that I respected her. Respected her endurance, because in her place, I wouldn’t be able to keep up that pride, that perseverance. I know I cant. I am not as strong as her.
I told her to keep in mind that the data was in another language, but she had already figured it out. Sometimes people startle you with their intelligence, maybe its wrong to assume that everybody is as stupid as your roommate who doesn’t know how to boil water. Naïve people always get my blood pressure up.

Everything was fine now. I didn’t need to stand in the well lit room anymore. I could put my sunglasses back on now. I could leave. I didn’t feel relief. I didn’t feel anything, I guess I was still sleeping.

But something woke me up. A vision in white. You know when you’res walking someplace and something just catches your attention that you have to twist your neck so far back it hurts?
It was like that. A perfect example of Cuban perfection. This young muchacho of about 18 years of age, a slight stubble in the face, and curly black locks you could run your fingers through for all eternity.
He walked into the bathroom after looking into my eyes. He hit the door by accident, I guess he was as distracted as I was as I almost stumbled down the stairs.
Its that feeling that you have, that interpersonal connection that can make you lose track of time, its what makes you forget that its raining and thundering outside.

I catch myself when I hear this loud boom. I think a tree died. It was very close. Have you ever noticed that the closer lightning strikes, the clearer the sound is. No more prolonged rumbling, just a straight boom.

The hallways are empty again. Only the rustling of the leaves that are being blown over the cold concrete can be heard again. I decide to just look back, just for a few seconds, you never know right? That moment might have been worth it.

He wasn’t there. Just empty hallways.
My moment was over.


O-kay. That turned out to be a bit longer than I expected. I guess I am writing a different one later on tonight. Im spent for now.

Ciao.