lunes, 28 de marzo de 2011

Two silly apparitions

I’ve run into ***** two times in my life and both times he professed my destiny. The first time, in a city at the edge of a dirty river, he told me: you will be lonely. I didn’t know, at some point, what we was referring at. Loneliness have too many edges, each one more uncertain than the other. Years later, I don’t remember if it was Vietnam or my neighbourhood, I was done with all my enemies. I slipped trough the morasses, crossed some fences and made it through it. I was alone in the world or, at least, at that peace of it. The words of ***** suddenly made sense. It wasn’t Jesus, or Buda, or that stigma kid or messiah kid from the Wilde’s story. It didn’t give recipes or parabolas. It didn’t either provoked any incredible things to put order in pointless lives. It just accused and notified, but this warning wasn’t even a warning. Once it published its appearances in the yellow pages. I read it myself. At page 666 its banner in heavy black letters promised amazing revelations. A boring life could then be cut by the vertigo’s knife. It guessed, but of Jesus, in a strict way, it just had the hippie look, the beard and the long hair. Of kindness nothing. It was an outsider. Some jerk or some genius. As I said, he crossed two times with my life. The second time I was very drunk, lost in the streets of some South American capital. I rambled without having a direction. In an alley, between the trashcans, I felt a voice. I couldn’t see its beard, or its large hair like Jesus Christ, or either his junkie pale face. The voice said to me ***** *** *******. Yesterday afternoon I was remembering this mysterious appearances, sitting in the hepatologist’s chair. He was looking at the phone guide. With a remarkable hyperkinesis, he flicked through the pages full of banners. I started thinking about that banner and ***** and its two silly apparitions. They hadn’t solved anything, I thougt. Then I got prescribed with some meds and went out to the street. At Uruguay with Independencia street I ate a hotdog. I think I put mustard on it, though I’m not sure.

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