Humanity

    I feel I can’t even breathe, I can’t even talk like a normal person and everything I do tends to be joined by some kind of pain. Why is that? Why is it that whenever I want to do things right, they never really come down as easy as they should be or at least as enjoyable as they should be?

 They say, the people I guess, that the world is paved with good intentions. I don’t think that is true but if it were true, I think things would be much better than what they are. If good intentions were the norm, everyone would just be better off or at least would have more of a chance to make whatever they want to make come true.

 No, I’m not missing the point that such saying is precisely meant to be the opposite of what it is. Good intentions are obviously a façade, a way of getting into something and then you realize that being nice and good is simply not enough. You have to be bold and unapologetic. The thing is that when some people behave as such, they are admired and respected. People often love sincerity and that brass characteristic in some men and women. They would even go and call them “heroes”.

 But when others say the same things, even going a little further, then they are not heroes and they are considered just undesirable and annoying people. They are deemed not graceful enough by the rest of the so-called community and are treated worse than if they had a very contagious disease.

 That has happened to me many times. People told me I’m too shy, I never speak, I don’t talk and so on. And when I finally did and said what I had on my mind, many were shocked and seemed to confirm that the reason I didn’t speak up was actually a good one. Because most people mistrust the ones that don’t speak, that shy away from the lights of life.

 People love when a person just talks and talks and always has a story to tell. They don’t care if the story is real or not, they just love to hear and be in the presence of such gods of humanity who embody everything most people would like to be: confident, courageous, adventurous, experienced, interesting and many other character traits that are more realistic in a cartoon than in a real person.

 From the first years of school to the last years on Earth, people always seek those people out. If they can’t be like them, they want to be their friends, to always be close in order to catch those gems they often lay on the world, whether they are experiences that seem incredibly interesting or maybe a joke told in great way or romantic experience or whatever it is that makes them a magnet of attention.

  We are trained by society to be like that, to try to enter that select group. They teach us songs and they make us sing them in the presence of family members and even family friends and others. They make us repeat every word time and again and seek out new things for us to say, to make us interesting while we are children because there’s is an unspoken agreement that no one should be nasty to a child, at least not their face.

 Some kids succeed in the attempt initiated often by their parents (although the kid himself can do it) and then they are inside that group. The bad thing is that they don’t get to stay there forever. They have to keep doing things; they have to be little circus freaks, entertaining the world while they live their lives. Some people realized they are very good at this and others just fail and are forgotten.

 Of course, another way to get in later in life is when having good looks. In young life this doesn’t really count as judging kids by their looks is frowned upon by society, even if every single person has an actual opinions. But that ban is lifted in adolescence because that’s the moment you sort of transform into the person you are going to be for the rest of your life. So after puberty, everyone is magically entitled to judge you and every single person in the planet and, unfortunately, that’s one way to get noticed.

 If you are deemed good looking or beautiful or cute or whatever the word is, you will get into a select group that have certain privileges for a long period of life. Now that period of life is even longer than in other eras of humanity because now we judge more because we think we know more when the truth is that society is the same stupid animal that has thrown humanity of course thousands of times before and will keep doing it in the future.

 So you have to be interesting and beautiful and bold and nice and good and so many things that are not even clearly defined and that are just a mask that people put over their faces, their real faces and their real feelings about every single thing that happens in the world. Is not something revolutionary to say that many of those pretty faces, of those good people, are actually the front of the most despicable beings in the world. It has happened a lot that the mask just falls off and people realized that they cannot keep lying to themselves.

 To be clear, people know when those they admire are not real, are not honest and lie. But they simply look the other way, which is one of the main characteristics of the human being, which is not made of all good and lovable stuff. We are made of really slimy things and those characteristics have shifted the way humanity is many times.

 We are hypocrites. That’s the reality of everything, the truth of our existence and the reason I write and the reason you may read this to the end and the reason to many other things in this life. We love to do things in different ways, not always because we are dared but because we just want to disobey and create chaos. Other times we just nod and smile and nod and smile for life and there are many people in the world that are real professionals in the matter, people that have lied so well to others and for so long, that they have even begun to believe the lies they say.

 I’m not saying that the world is all made up of false and corrupt creatures but the goodness and perfection of it all is simply too annoying to be real, too superficial to be really something that anyone would authentically care about. I do think there is goodness and real feelings in people that can make them much more interesting than the superficial reasons most people use to get close to someone, to make their heroes. But those feelings are so ephemeral that most of the world doesn’t even care.

 The dangerous thing nowadays is all of this fake attention to issues that used to be taboo or forbidden or just dismissed in a second. Although many people really believe in discussing those subjects and be open and real, many more are using them to make them look better, to make them look like saviors and heroes again.

 There are people that simply do not care who they have to pass over as long as they get what they want. And the worst thing is that many others admire that in a person so it creates a very sick thing when someone is just deemed the best because they pretend to be something that they are not and are clearly doing wrong things to get there but they are all forgiven or forgotten.

 Yet, many others decide that they just don’t want to buy into all of that. They don’t want to be in those groups, in those sects that idealize every single aspect of a human’s life. Everything today is a standard, there is a very narrow path to follow is people decide to get off that standard. And even if they choose that path, the options at the end of it are scarce if they exist.

And it’s not about being different because that shouldn’t be a thing in life. At the end of the day, thanks to DNA, we are all different and that is obvious. We are not machines so we are not copies. Being different is imbedded in us so we shouldn’t praise or go after that because it’s who we are.

 I just hope my body let’s me speak and think again, soon.

Silences

   She had always loved to drive; as it liberated her from everything else she had been doing that day. When she drove back home from work, even with the traffic jams, she relaxed a lot and even stayed a bit in the car when arriving home just to think about one or two things. She also loved to be in bed with her husband and just share those priceless silences that people not really think about. Silence is beautiful when you feel you are complete with someone else and feel any sound would be just a disturbance, a nuisance. Emma and Greg had always had that kind of understanding and many people found it to be a bit disturbing but the truth was they didn’t really cared if other people approved or not of how they behave as a couple, they loved each other like mad.

 However, Emma one day realized she had been looking another man at work, someone she didn’t really know that well. She detailed everything he didn’t and she liked him right away because he stood away as different to the rest. Most of her coworkers were noisy and very annoying, always talking and mumbling and just behaving like parrots. The man she had discovered, who probably worked in another floor, was very different and was visibly shy and kept to himself. She realized, after several minutes, that she had been seeing him making copies and looking for a stapler, even as she had very big stack of work to do. When she came back to her senses, she felt oddly embarrassed and just went back to work.

 Emma had thought that behavior would only happen that one time but it didn’t. It started happening more and more, and not only with that man from work but also in the street, in stores and in the bus she took home when leaving the car there. She would just look at them carefully, appreciating everything they did, which was normally something really mundane and boring to everyone else but that seemed like magic to her. She didn’t really appreciated their bodies at all, she preferred to focus on their behavior and on whatever they were doing in the moment, no matter if it was listening to music, reading, jogging, talking on the phone or just standing there, close to her.

 If she was honest to herself, all of this made her feel very strange. She loved her husband but she just loved to look at this men just being there. She thought that maybe it was because she had been married so young and now she was getting interested in others but it was very particular that she didn’t even bothered to look at their faces sometimes and, if she did, she would discover that they didn’t looked at all like the men she supposedly found attractive. This went on for several months and for Emma it was something hard to process, because she had been living fifteen years of a very happy marriage and felt awful about what she was doing, as if she was cheating on her husband.

 One night, she decided to break their ceremonial silence and just tell Greg about what was happening to her. She hated the people that beat around the bush for hours without never ever getting to the point, so she went straight for it. It may have been a little harsh but Greg knew that was a trace of Emma’s personality that was just essential to her and he embraced that attribute with open arms. He just heard what she had to say and, after a detailed explanation of what was going on, he asked her if something else had happened. Obviously, he was worried she had cheated on him with one of these men. But she hadn’t done that so he just hugged her and told her there was nothing wring about what she did and even if something more happened, she could talk to him.

 The conversation was very positive for Emma, who had always known Greg would respond well to any issues that would be presented to him. So she kept on with her life, still looking at strangers and just that. Then, one day, one of these men looked back at her and just smiled. This tore apart everything she had thought about this strange process before and started to wonder if what she was looking for was some sort of action in her life. Of course, she didn’t like those disgusting men who looked like a cartoon character but she was still human and discovered she loved someone that looked much more deep and interesting that all the other men.

 With the man of the smile, she never had anything but she could’ve. The next man that smiled at her was lucky enough to receive a smile back and now her sessions looking at men involved much more interaction, often just smiling or staring mutually at each other. Most people would find that disturbing but to Emma it was all very alluring and it started to become almost sensual. She realized, although this was no real surprise, that she craved a real intimate life with a man. Her husband was kind and good and loyal but he wasn’t adventurous, he wasn’t passionate and that made her terribly sad.  It had always been like that but now, feeling more liberated, she had finally decided to accept it.

 One afternoon at work, when she stayed a bit more to finish up work, she found the first man she had been looking at in the elevator. She couldn’t resist looking and he responded by staring, never smiling. Then, without a word, he pressed the button of the next floor, stepped out there and looked back. Emma didn’t even doubt it and she followed him to a janitor’s closet where they had sex. As she expected, the sex was passionate but it was not vulgar. The sex was fulfilling but never disgusting or plain.  When she came back home, however, she knew she had to tell her husband so she did. She told him everything and then just waited for his answer. There was a long silence.

 Finally, he stated that he understood her and that he had felt like that too, some months ago. Of course, she instantly thought about asking if he had met someone too, but thought it was better not to push any subjects to the floor. Greg held Emma’s hand and asked her what she felt for him. Emma told him she loved him and she had never doubted it. But she also knew she was curious about the world and she wanted more from it now, more than he might be able to give to her. It hurt her a bit that a single tear slid down his face as he smiled and said that it was all fine, that he understood and that he just wanted to know if any feelings changed or if she started to change her mind about other things.

 She never had sex again with the man from her office but they did see each other often. It was incredible to realize that they had been feeling the same or at least seemed to agree on whatever it was they were looking for in other people. It wouldn’t be another couple of months until Emma had sex with another stranger, a man who was a bit more interesting that the man from the office simply because he really never spoke to her and didn’t even smiled or anything of the sort. It was very strange and even frightening but it made it him so interesting and attractive to her. She also told her husband about this man and he was also fine with it. She couldn’t deny it felt strange, but she knew she had become, a long time ago, into a real free woman.

 Time passed and her interest in men started to decline. She wasn’t just interested anymore and just wanted to dedicate the following years of her life to herself and her husband. She proposed for them to go away on a holiday, to some beautiful place far away, in order to just be with one another, in another background and see what they really felt for each other. The first time they had sex during that trip, neither of them could believe the change that had occurred in the last few years. It was obvious that something had changed and it apparently had changed for the better, as the two of them ended up being extremely happy with everything that happened. They did not discuss the reasons and it really wasn’t necessary as long as they were happy.

 And they were, for many years, until he died from a stroke. She cried all day long that day and when she finally stopped, she felt part of her soul die with him. She realized that she had loved him more than she could ever understand and that everything that had happened between them was just about learning and talking things, in their own way. She did discover he had been with someone else too, before she had her “season” but she never managed to discover who it was. Somehow she needed to know, to thank whomever it was. But that thought vanished in time and eventually she joined her husband, adoring him always.

Personal

   Now that I realize, I had confused two very different notions. One was being alone. The other was being lonely. I had thought once that I loved being lonely. You know, just a misunderstood soul wandering about, having deep thoughts about humanity and myself. I thought that I loved to be away from everyone because I had so much within me that it was better for others to be away. I was so full of myself, I didn’t even notice how I really felt, and deluding myself into thinking I loved the sound of silence, the sound of the void awaiting all of us. It was all a big confusion and the worst thing is I think I had always known but I wanted to believe so bad I was a special human being, with characteristics no other could have. The truth is no one is unique, not at all.

 The truth is I hate being lonely because it makes me feel sad and depressed. When I’m lonely, I slowly slide down to a point where everything is awful and I stop liking anything and everything. It has always been difficult for me to like myself, to take a look in the mirror and be positive, somehow, about what I see. When I’m alone that’s always difficult, but I’m able to pull through. But when I’m lonely, the story is different: I hate myself so much right then and there. I would want to smash the mirror I’m looking to or my head, if what I’m doing is only imagining myself. It can be awful sometimes, but I guess darkness hasn’t got the right angle yet, as I’m still here.

 I hate people or at least think I hate them all. Always so happy about nothing, proud about a bunch of things I find utterly ridiculous. If I were brave, I would be a bully, someone who wouldn’t think twice before smashing someone head against a wall. But I’ve never being that person never had the amount of courage needed to speak up or to act according to my emotions. And if I do, it’s usually too little too late.  In this era of bullies and bullying, I have never being the one to do it but haven’t really being a victim of it. Shall I cry and despair because they mocked me behind my back or because I was a laugh playing sports? No, that was my reality and I lived with it. That’s what I did and I think I would do it all the same again if I could.

 Because many of these problems started in school, that’s obvious. Before that I had no intention or need to look at myself and then at others and compare what I saw. But even at age ten, I already knew that there were people that were deemed “better”. You know the kind, those damn people who were smart, bright, and very witty with the words and had a very physical self also. They had it all and if they screwed it up they could try it again and again until they were successful. Me, not so much. Once I sucked at something, usually I would suck at it for many years. Even teachers knew that.

 After all, I was educated in the European tradition and they don’t fuck around with education. Not at all. They want their students to know it all and know it good. Which was a shame because I didn’t get all and what I did know fluctuated in time. I was never the perfect student, not even if I was good at a couple of subjects. That only meant I had a lifeline I could use not to be completely fucked by life, but I was fucked only that less violently, if you will. I would have given it all to be one of those nerds, to humiliate everyone at least once. A jock? No, that would have made even me laugh very hard and it wouldn’t have made sense at all. The point of it all was that no matter what, I was lonely and that affected it all.

 If I had had friends, not like occasional “let’s talk” people but real fucking friends, maybe everything would have been different. Maybe if someone had needed me back then I would be, at least, much more confident now and even with a more tenacious personality. Of course, that would make me a very different person but that’s kind of the point. If I hadn’t been alone and feeling the loneliness even from that age, I do think that the road would have been at least a bit better. But well, that’s me, always thinking about what could have been. The truth is that I don’t believe things can just change, I don’t think that I can be spontaneous and positive and social just out of nowhere. That would just scare the fuck out everyone around me, I know as much.

Anyway, that’s what being lonely is. You just don’t believe in change and also because change doesn’t exist when you’re a human being. I have never really seen anyone change and if they do it it’s not because they have actually modified their way of seeing the world. It’s because they have been scared to death by the apparent closeness of death or failure or something that they dread. Changing out of fear is the only real modification people do in their lives and that doesn’t count as you are probably faking in it all, just not to be targeted by whatever you’re scared about. Like if I became very social out of fear to die a lonely crazy guy.

 It’s all applicable anywhere in your life. You can feel both lonely and alone in every situation you face.  The all-mighty love, for example. That thing people feel in their guts, like a balloon that, if not controlled properly, can explode inside of you and make you feel like garbage. Well, that balloon can make you feel very lonely when the other person doesn’t even know you’re there or, worse, doesn’t really care about your existence. Because those couples that last a hundred years, that’s just two people scared shitless that they will never find anyone else in their lives to put up with their shit. So they play it safe and stay with the same person for years and years and years until society pressures marriage upon them.

 Romantic, isn’t it? Yeah, it is. But the real way to feel lonely in all this love context is simply when no one even looks at you. And don’t I know it? I have profound experience on being “looking” for so long that it’s no longer funny. I believe I have gone through most stages a man goes through sexually and romantically without even sharing them with anyone. It maybe why I hate other people, especially men. Complaining and whining about how their life is awful because their boyfriend spends one less hour with them now that he owns a company. Well, I feel so bad for you… Fuckers. That’s what being lonely does to you: if you don’t die, you turn into a very cold and bitter bitch.

 And I have to say I like it. After all, my personality saves me everyday and makes me be “en garde” all day, all the time. Not that I have a lot of things dawning on me or anything but I think I’m an expert now on how to manage some feelings. I have been sad many times before, feeling that anxiety and the need to leave it all and just go. But I know how to control all of that, and swallow it all in order to keep going. Why? I have no idea. I’m not one of those people that’s in love with life or the beauty of it or some of that stupid stuff. I just do it because I have a survival instinct that just doesn’t let me do anything against myself. And I guess that’s good or at least not bad. I mean, I don’t feel lonely every second of my life.

 At times, many times, I do feel happy and I love the few but very important people I have close to my soul. Now, more than anytime before, I have them all in my heart because I need them. It’s selfish, of course it is, but that’s life and I’m not larger that life or better than it. I’m just a tiny part of the whole scheme, so I just do as I feel. Granted, men only want me to fuck me and that’s it, so there’s no love then or in the near future but that I don’t care. The rest of my life is still standing on tiny little sticks and I’d rather have all of that settled on cement before I advance to more “ethereal” subjects such as love. There will be a time for me to do all of that but it isn’t now. You’ll know, I guess.

 My fear, however, is that I engulf so much trying to get by that someday I would explode trying to defend myself against all those things I have in my head. Because I’m no ignorant: it’s still all there, trying to get me every single second. It rests for a long time and then awakens again, ready to fight me to check on my defense. Battles and battles have been fought and they have always concluded when those feelings surrender and they realize I’m not weak enough for them to win. And it’s not that I become the winner, they just decide no to keep fighting. I dread of the day they stop doing that, surrendering. That day when they will not stop and when just keep going, certain of their victory.

Drunk gentleman

   The moment I opened my eyes, I realized how much I had to drink the night before. I didn’t even tried to sit down or stand up; I just opened my eyes and then shut them again. Although I didn’t really remember everything that had happened the night before, I was glad to know I had gotten home and that my cellphone and my wallet were in the nightstand. Those were the most important things to know, that I was alive and ok and in the right place. But my head was spinning so much I decided to close my eyes and try to get some more sleep. It had to be a Saturday or Sunday so I didn’t have to be anywhere or to do anything. I turned around, feeling cozy and warm and then, when I stretched my feet a bit, I felt someone else in bed with me.

 My eyes opened immediately but everything I could see was a head, short auburn hair and a tattoo on the shoulder, that happened to be uncovered, as he wasn’t wearing a t-shirt. I was only wearing my underwear but that didn’t matter, as that was my bed, in my home. Who was that guy? I had no idea and I didn’t wanted to be rude and wake him up just to ask. After all, he was there for a reason. Normally, any friend or friend of a friend would stay in the couch, which was very comfortable. But, somehow, I had decided not to leave him there but instead ask him to sleep with me. I then raised my head a bit and looked at the nightstand again and at the floor. There was nothing on my side that would indicate intercourse.

 Then, I remained still for a moment as I checked mentally if any part of my body felt funny. As I did that, I realized how bad my memory was at retaining any kind of information. Not only I couldn’t remember a single thing from the night before, I had to practically touch myself to know if I had sex with the man that was sleeping beside me. That made me feel like shit, as if I did that kind of thing every time I went out. I then turned around and closed my eyes and tried to think of something to do, a way to know who he was or why he was there. The best idea would be to write my friends and ask them if they knew, although that would reflect very poorly on me. Anyway, I fell asleep in no time because of how tired I was.

 It always happened that, when I had too much to drink, I would have the wildest and weirdest dreams. That time was no exception as in, the probably one hour that I rested my eyes, I dreamt about some strange creatures that I was supposed to kill with a team of others. We were using laser weapons and the guy that was sleeping beside me was there too, covering the left flank. It was like being in a movie, people shooting all around. I was having a lot of fun there but then the dream changed and I was in a room observing two people having a fight. They couldn’t hear me and I couldn’t do anything to intervene. The yelling and their insults made me wake up, sweating a bit.

 I sat on my bed, trying to catch my breath, realizing it had only been a dream. It was a nightmare that always came back, a remembrance of a past I always tried to forget. Then, I realized the guy on my side was not there. For a second, I thought I had just imagined him but then I saw his clothes on the floor and realized he was still around. It was exactly at that moment when he came in with a tray, my only tray. There was some orange juice, a sandwich made in the toaster and a banana. But that really wasn’t what surprised me most. The guy had the body of a model or even better. Instinctively, I pulled up the sheets, as I didn’t wanted for him to see my body, which was very far from his in terms of beauty and acceptance. He had some other tattoos and he was only wearing some black briefs.

 The beautiful man passed me the tray and told me he had already had breakfast. The only thing I could do was to smile and listen to him tell me how had the idea to make me breakfast after all I had done for him and how he had found everything he needed in order to make a somewhat decent breakfast. As I drank some juice, he laughed and said he thought of giving me some cereal but he remembered me saying that I couldn’t drink any milk. Again, I just smiled, as I had no idea at what point I had told him any of that. For that matter, I had no idea in what planet I could have met a guy such as him and why he was “thankful” to me. I just ate my breakfast and, in between bites, asked him if he had eaten something yet and he said yes.

 He looked at me as I ate, which was strange already, never minding those big green eyes, the tattoos and the body that seemed to have been taken out from a fitness magazine. When I finished, I decided to be honest. First o f all, I thanked him for his kindness but then I had to confess that I didn’t remembered much about the night before. I told him I could imagine I had a lot to drink because I really didn’t know where I had met him and why he had stayed with me, even in bed. His reaction was strange as he laughed and looked even better looking as he did it. He looked at me straight in the eye and I have to say I couldn’t hold his look for a long time. His bright eyes hurt a little.

 He showed me his hand and told me his name was Steven and that we had met in the bathroom of a club where we were both having some time with friends. Steven said that, when I entered the bathroom, I seemed to have been drinking for a while already so he had no idea what I had done before he met me. Anyway, he wasn’t there alone but with another guy. He said that guy was someone he had met at work and who was very obsessed with getting high and drunk. As I came in, he was apparently trying to convince Steven to get high with something he was keeping in a small bag, but he didn’t told me what it was. I apparently went to a stall and they kept arguing outside.

 Things got pretty bad as the guy who was with him started to scream and push him. Apparently, Steven had opened the little bag and thrown all its content into the drain. The man went crazy and he punched Steven on the face. He bled a bit and it was then when I came out. According to Steven, I just went insane when I saw him on the ground bleeding. I went straight for the guy and told him to get the fuck out, the guy pushed me and then I punched him hard in the face. Two, three, four times until he could stand up. I even kicked him in the stomach and we just left that place. I didn’t even tell my friend or anything, we just left for my place and I told him I would take care of him for good.

 Steven smiled as he remembered all of that. He knew I was just being nice and maybe my reaction was due to the fact that he was a very handsome man. And, without any hesitation, I told him that that wasn’t the case. Yes, he was beautiful, but I reacted like that because I had seen too much violence in my life to let people keep doing that to each other. I guess my answer wasn’t the best way to solve it, but that guy would probably think again before punching someone like that just because they wouldn’t have some of his shit. Steven just smiled as I said that and I realized I had talked very passionately so I decided to thank him again for the breakfast. He took the try back to the kitchen and I used what little time I had to put on my t-shirt.

 He reentered the room as I put it on and he asked why I was doing that. He told me that I was in my house, so it was a bit strange that I decided to cover myself as if I was doing something wrong. I told him the truth that I felt little ashamed to be next to him. I had a belly, I had no perfect body like he had and it would make me feel less weird if I wore the t-shirt.  I pulled it down and sat on the bed, waiting for something although I didn’t know what it was. He was doing exactly the same thing by the door, just standing there like waiting for something to happen but not knowing exactly what. It was a bit uncomfortable.

 Finally, I decided to get into the bed again and pull up the sheets. Then, he walked up to the bed and lay down too, this time with his face towards my side. I was looking up. We stayed like that for a good while until I decided to take off the t-shirt and turn towards him. He smiled again and I just got closer and kissed him. I wasn’t going to meet a guy like that ever again. We kissed for a long time and he told me, between kissed, that I had been a gentleman the night before, as we talked in the taxi and in my living room. We had already kissed but because he had leaned forward. Now, it had been me.

 We had sex afterwards and starting going out rather frequently. But that story and its outcome, will not be told here.