Futuro es un segundo a partir de ahora (Future is a second away from now)Argentina
One day, my brother told me about a new boy who showed up at an interview to be a waiter. He told me he was strange, that he was Nikkei and didn't even know what sushi or yakimeshi was, that he hadn't finished high school, and that sometimes he danced to the music alone. I didn't even hesitate to ask him for his number. My brother didn't want to at first, so I kept pushing him for three days straight like there was no tomorrow, and I even bribed him.
A new friendship, sad nights, shared moonlit evenings and our songs. Those that only we know and no one else. In a language that can't be understood. Of beings that are not human, or anything like that. Who have synthesised voices and hologram emotions, those that are like a lie and leave a metallic taste in your mouth. With the smell of a new toy, which disarticulates us and makes us feel like weirdos, like alive. Like equals. And everything we did is evidence of that.
Exercise about love #1
I want to believe in love again.
In the idea of love.
The idea of the love I once had.
The platonic love, the first love, the love at first sight.
I'd forgotten what it felt like.
I'd forgotten. How it hurts. The fear. Of the euphoria.
I want to feel that intimacy. That closeness.That blind spot.
I want it more than my desire. To have it all.
Just to fall in love one more time. To feel it again.
A monogamous love. Fresh. Young.
Without past or future.
Nothing to think about. And everything to lose.
A sweet love. Special.
It's not even about sex. Or sensuality. Or horniness.
A love that asks me to love me first.
That what he likes the most is the worst of me.
That asks me for adoration. Obsession. Daydreaming.
That likes me in my perversion. My imperfection. My weak point.
That if we break the two metres of distance, we couldn't stop.
Of wanting and not being able to grab you, to look you in the eyes, to tell you in your ear.
To be a constant provocation.
I don't really understand what's going on, I haven't felt this for a long time.
But it either happens all at once, or it doesn't happen at all.
And I don't want it to go away, I don't want to forget it. And I don't want to get tired of it.
And have to remember it all over. Again. Of Love.
And all just to tell you that I like you.