Relojes

Cuando cambian las horas, 

yo cambio de piel.

El vidrio invisible me juega una broma;

Las luces se apagan, pero el agua 

Sigue corriendo.

Y siento frío, todavía.

Grullas de papel

Aprenderé a hacer grullas de papel

                        Para colgarlas 

       De los libros

Que nunca leerás 

Alegría de Naufragios, Giuseppe Ungaretti

Y rápido reemprende

          El viaje

          Como 

Tras el naufragio

Un lobo de mar

Superviviente.

Teoría del Cangrejo (Texto Inédito de Julio Cortázar)

      Habían levantado la casa en el límite de la selva, orientada al sur para evitar que la humedad de los vientos de marzo se sumara al calor que apenas mitigaba la sombra de los árboles.

      Cuando Winnie llegaba

      Dejó el párrafo en suspenso, apartó la máquina de escribir y encendió la pipa. Winnie. El problema, como siempre, era Winnie. Apenas se ocupaba de ella la fluidez se coagulaba en una especie de

      Suspirando, borró en una especie de, porque detestaba las facilidades del idioma, y pensó que ya no podría seguir trabajando hasta después de cenar; pronto llegarían los niños de la escuela y habría que ocuparse de los baños, de prepararles la comida y ayudarlos en sus

      ¿Por qué en la mitad de una enumeración tan sencilla había como un agujero, una imposibilidad de seguir? Le resultaba incomprensible, puesto que había escrito pasajes mucho más arduos que se armaban sin ningún esfuerzo, como si de alguna manera estuvieran ya preparados para incidir en el lenguaje. Por supuesto, en esos casos lo mejor era

      Tirando el lápiz, se dijo todo se volvía demasiado abstracto; los por supuesto  los en esos casos, la vieja tendencia a huir de situaciones definidas. Tenía la impresión de alejarse cada vez más de las fuentes, de organizar puzles de palabras que a su vez

      Cerró bruscamente el cuaderno y salió a la veranda.

      Imposible dejar esa palabra, veranda.

Imposible no amarlo.

This Is Bill (IV)

I just remembered the night I got into a tour bus for the first time. My friend Mary was there with me, we found out these tour busses were giving free rides on Fridays. This was great. The only bad thing was that you had to be in the bus station at least an hour earlier, because of the free tickets. We wanted to go on top of the bus, but, unluckily we couldn’t.

So, we went in the bottom, anyway. Thing is, it was so much fun, because there were many musicians and clowns that day, and they made the ride funny and interesting.

I pretty much think that night is hard to forget. I was so happy and I enjoyed her company. She was only a friend, I never saw her like anything else. But I decided to give her my favorite guitar pick. I just don’t know why, I just did. And I don’t regret it at all. It was a beautiful yellow- animal printed pick. It looked pretty much like a leopard. I loved that pick, so much.

I don’t know where Mary is now, or what she might be doing at this precise moment; all I know is that we aren’t closer now as we were back in those days. And I always wonder. I wonder where my pick might be. I wonder if she has it still, or maybe it got lost inside a train or something.

Since then, lots of memories just came out of nowhere. Like, this one time when I was at the event for “book’s universal day” and there was this Jazz band.

There is a famous writer who says, in one of his books, that Jazz is like going up in an “elevator of time”. I didn’t really get it until that day. And I remember feeling good, warm inside, and barely closing my eyes at the end of the song. I felt time was frozen, like being in love, almost the same feeling. So, I guess, because of that, maybe you can fall in love with songs as well.

This is Bill (III)

I received a Walkman for my birthday the other day. My aunt Charlotte gave it to me. She said I only need a pair of batteries and some mix tapes that I could make on my own, or I rather look for some tapes at the music store, it was all up to me. I really like rock music, pretty much the classic bands. So, I decided to do a mix tape, but the problem was I really didn't know how to.

I spent the whole afternoon figuring out what I needed and, by the evening, (I guess it was around seven) I finally discovered my stereo has a recording button, which I guess I never noticed, but was always there. It´s all red with three white letters which look like this:

R E C

I guess you can picture the button better, now.

Once I realize how it works, I have to record some of my favorite songs from the radio; I just hope the radio host doesn't speak at the end, otherwise, I'd have to listen to him all the time, and probably, my songs wouldn't be my favorite anymore by then, just because of that. 

I've been noticing things again. You know, this stuff no one cares to observe thoroughly. For example, I look outside from windows. In my bedroom, they are all squared shaped and medium sized. Some nights, when I cannot sleep, I look through them and there is a mixture of color, darkness and light, in some cases. Other nights, the sky is deep navy blue and stars appear as millions of silver tiny dots. You can see the entire city from my bedroom windows, or pretty much of it. There are two big trees behind my house; to see them, you have to go to my parents' bedroom. 

I wish my bedroom was as big as my parents', but I enjoy the view, anyway.

I'm thinking about you, again.