Him and the gym

   It was very annoying, but it was more and more frequent that, in the middle of the night, he had to wake up to a cramp or some other time of pain. It would normally be in his feet or legs but sometimes it was his waist that felt the pain or even his face. He had gone to the doctor several times and to many different ones but none of them was able to tell him why that happened. He hated when it was obvious they were inventing what to say instead of giving him a science based and objective point of view. They just shot in the dark, trying to get it right.

 Many had told him it was the lack of exercise so he tried to jog in the mornings. Soon, he changed it to the afternoons, and then the nights. All of this happening in the same week, as he realized he hated to reorganize his life around such a menial activity. He didn’t understand how some people dared to say they loved to exercise often and for many hours. He didn’t tell this to anyone, but for him all those persons in the gyms and the parks exercising every single hour of the day, were just insane people without any real talent in them.

 Of course, he didn’t tell this to anyone when he signed on for a year at a big gym near his house. A perky girl showed him all the machines, explained the courses he could take (as if he was entering Harvard) and told him about the trainers that helped people there. Some even had experience in the military, which assured quality but also inspired some fear. In his first week he avoided the trainers and the courses and the dancing lessons, in order to focus only in the machines. It was a failure anyway but at least he wasn’t getting yelled at.

 The screams were constant in that place and everyone behaved as if it was extremely normal that a man build like a house would scream a bunch of skinny short women about how they couldn’t meet his extremely bizarre quotas of exercise. The man was clearly deranged somehow, always screaming and never really doing any exercise himself, only when he needed to demonstrate something he wanted all of them to do. Even then it was strange, because he would do the exercise so fast and in such a bizarre way, none of the women would get it fast and the screaming would ensue.

 He wasn’t the only insane one in the place. For a spinning class, there was a lot of yelling there too. The “teacher” there was a woman. She was very beautiful and her body was testament to her prowess in the exercise area but she was another one that yelled a lot. And he could never hold his laughter when looking at the spinning class because it was simply ridiculous. That woman yelling others to accelerate on bikes going nowhere, in a closed room with the concentrated heat that everyone was releasing, without the refreshing sight of the actual world.

 He exercised independently as long as he could but in every area of that place, there was a man or a woman kind of supervising that everyone make good use of the machines, normally looking after the cleanliness of everyone in the gym and to see that everyone was using the machines in the right way. To him, it was amazing how little sense of humor people in a gym could have. He saw a young man once trying to do a choreography he had clearly taken away from the TV on some of the running machines and they simply expelled them for that because they deemed his behavior “irresponsible” and “dangerous”.

 No one laughed there unless it was hypocritical laughter or if the person was talking on the phone. Besides that, the sound that ruled was heavy breathing and the eternal sounds of the machines and the one of the stupid music the put every single day. Every day it was the same playlist, from beginning to end and he already knew it by heart. And what was so annoying about it, is that it was there to make you feel you could always do more, like the music they put on shops and so on.

 Basically, the place was a laboratory, and every stupid person that paid to be there was a mouse or a hamster forever turning in their little wheel like an idiot, not ever thinking twice about anything. It was easy to see how brainwashed some of them are and the scary thing was that the results they had made them even more prone to stay there and keep on going and just obsess about the whole thing. He had hated to rearrange his life around exercise but many others were happy to do it, dedicating even more and more time per week to what they called “the art of exercise”.

 “Horseshit”. That’s what he told his doctor after a couple of months going to the gym. They did a lot of exams and tests and it was revealed that the exercise had nothing to do with whatever was happening to him. The cramps would even get worse some nights and he had slowly became a person that slept on his chest, as it was impossible to him sleeping in any other way. His legs always hurt and his body was still as bad as it was months ago.

 When he saw the results of the test, he decided to quit the gym. He had paid for a year but he didn’t mind “loosing” that money because in any case he had already paid it and new that the people in the gym had already spend it in some stupid machine. So he decided to only exercise in the weekends and on the park and maybe doing something he would enjoy, for a change. He played football with friends sometimes, or with a Frisbee or he could even buy a dog and play with him. The possibilities were endless.

 Yes, he wasn’t ripped like those nutbags from the gym but he started feeling better once he decided to relax about the whole thing and when he decided to get massages and eat better. All of those decisions made him happier than going to an enclosed space to run like a lunatic. Now he enjoyed his life and, even without the killer body, he felt better and that’s all he ever wanted. He had always been happy with who he was and had been depressed the whole time being in the gym. With all the pictures and the trainers and the brainwashing, it was hard not get out of there thinking “I have to be like all of this people”.

 He sometimes saw some of them in the park or in the street and they always gave him this look of superiority. But the look wasn’t only at him but at the world around them. For some stupid reason, all of this toolbags that had once decided to go crazy in the exercise, decided they were better than the rest of us and the worst thing was that all the media and the society at large believed that to be true. We have been taken by the balls by a small group of people and now the prototypes of beauty are radically different than what they were a hundred years ago and even more than what they were on the Renaissance or before.

 But people can stand up to that and just move along, living their lives as they may and not thinking every single second about how they look. He laughed alone when recalling some of the conversations he had overheard in the gym while in the machines or in the locker room. It has to be left clear that he didn’t thought they were all stupid but some of them were such idiots, it was a very difficult thing to ignore. They talked about sex in a way it was simply funny to hear about it, as if it was an exhibition of the caliber of a two peacocks showing their feathers to the one female, who also happened to be ripped like them.

 It hadn’t been his thing but he new that some people liked it and he was fine with it. Even some of his friends told him he should have at list used his membership the whole year, at least once a week. But he told them he simply couldn’t stand going there anymore. Seeing the faces of people that claimed they had fun exercising but were there every day stressed out because they didn’t lose as much weight as they had planned or because they wouldn’t meet theirs trainer’s demands. It was a disaster.

 He finally decided to buy that dog and it was the best decision he ever had. Not only he had tons of exercise running after his furry acquisition, the dog also became his best and most loyal friend. And that was something exercising like a lunatic couldn’t offer. It couldn’t give you real feelings, only shallow ones that surfaced because you can’t even think as you kill yourself on those damned machines.

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.

Not unique

   It’s amazing how sometimes you can torture yourself with so many stupid little things. I guess we want life to be so controlled, so perfect and calm that anything that poses a challenge or a sudden change makes us nervous. I personally don’t like people who say, “I like challenges” because no human with a proper brain would like to be proven wrong. What people that say that phrase mean is that they are not afraid of confronting themselves, but that doesn’t mean they are going to conquer their fears, it only mean they are going to face them. Fear is something very relative, almost having a world of its own. When you say you’re scared at night in a dark street, it is not the same fear that I experience when looking at a spider, even if it is on a TV screen.

 Anyway, we tend to make everything so big, so scary just to tell ourselves we can overcome it. Problems and dilemmas are now, at least in appearance, more stupid than ever before. I mean, people think it’s a problem to have fat on their bodies or to dress one way to a formal event and not the other way. These are dumb examples but they are the truth. People now have put their challenges at the same height of their apparent skills of when solving problems and facing life. They are so afraid of anything than even putting on a skirt or jeans is a life threatening decision. The idea behind this is that people face smaller problems, challenges, than they would usually do, avoiding the larger ones almost always. But when life comes and surprises them, they turn it into a drama only they can understand.

 Now that’s stupid. We are humans, a species that is quite abundant in the world, so thinking only one of us has experienced something that others haven’t, and it borders madness. We have a really big problem realizing that we are not unique; we are not as special as we have led ourselves to believe. The truth is, and always will be, that we are animals and, as such, our lives and pretty similar, no one really standing out. What makes humans stand out is the society and the rules we have built ourselves. It is not through nature that someone takes power over others or experiences a life of riches and others experience poverty. It is through the human condition, which can always change, at any time.

 Let’s say someone is born into a rich family. We would think that said person has been a very lucky one as money guarantees many things in life that, in any other way, you wouldn’t get. It wasn’t nature that gave that person’s parents’ money, it was the society they live in. And that same society can turn the tables on that family and make them poor, make them starve an d know what it is to have nothing on your stomach for four days in a row. It isn’t nature that took it all away from them, it was Man. In nature we are nothing too special but in society we can be the best or the worst, depending on how we play the game.

 Now, what does this have to do with those things that torture us everyday? Well, society made those too. They made us be aware of things we do not really need to be aware with. Like the economy, some other things are meaningless in a real way. We have created them as humans, and they can be easily replaced at any time. That’s what has happened with the technological revolution, where one device is replaced by the next with the simplest of decisions. And, by the way, those decisions are never taken by only one man or one woman. They are taken by a group, no matter the size, and that’s what changes things. That’s why there are no more beepers and only smartphones, that’s why we want to control every person’s move and thought these days.

 The things that torture us have often much to do with those things we still can control. It’s funny but even if we think we have no control over something, we always do if it has been created by mankind. We cannot cure cancer and we cannot make a storm at will but we can make human things go our way. How do you think some people rob banks or create them? It doesn’t matter which one is it because the trick is that we can do whatever we want with it only because it has been created by us. We can always change things that we have done; it is only what happens beyond humanity that simply cannot touch.

 That said, we have done many great things, we have advanced in our evolution and have even forced a bit forward. That’s the most significant relation on how we have affected nature but we still cannot control that evolution. If we could, we would already have people living in other planets and on the bottom of the ocean. But we haven’t because we are still severely limited by nothing other than ourselves. The only way we can achieve these things it’s by reorganizing the world we have and creating new technology based on us. Because that’s what we have been doing for some time and what we will keep doing for a long while. Of course, not all of us are going to participate because evolution doesn’t need all of us but it does need a group.

 The realization that we are left behind is a great worry among humanity. It is practically the same than knowing you are alone, although you’re not ever really alone. We just feel that way precisely because we have been led to believe we are special, when we are not. It is true that our intelligence and ability to solve problems is quite remarkable but it is quite impossible for it to be unique. If other intelligent life exists in our cosmos, we wouldn’t be special at all and we are not now because it isn’t something of a single specimen but of a whole species. The fact that we are so many, makes us less special.

 But our numbers make us prone to surviving, even if we don’t really have that in us. Because not many people have real survival skills but the fact that we are so many, like ants, makes us difficult to eradicate unless a proper way to destroy us was invented. And it has, by us. There are artificial diseases and weapons that could destroy every single human on the planet and it would only take a few seconds. It would only involve the decision of one person, not even a group, to do that. And the fact that humanity has given power to one above others is simply ridiculous. That proves that we are not as smart as we think we are because we have basically told some people they can annihilate us whenever they want, they have our permission.

 It’s all because we live in a world of fear. We are not really free or will ever be because we tie ourselves down with the same ropes that some groups give us. Self-confidence, fear, angst, sadness… So many more that we use against each other, only to makes us feel a little less us and a bit more unique. What do you think a person who kills her or himself in the gym is looking for? They are not there to improve their health, no matter what anyone says. They are trying to achieve a physical state where they can be above the rest, be a little less them and a little bit someone better. That’s what has made this “physical” revolution a success: we hate ourselves and the fact that we are so, for lack of a better word, normal.

 I’m not saying that people that go to the gym hate themselves but most actually do. And not only them but all of us but every single person that had forced change into their lives because they feel they will never stand out if they keep behaving like the simple and boring organisms that they are. We try so hard to make everyone feel so unique and special, that it is a great pain when we realize that no matter what we do, we will never be really unique. We can put everything on us, we can take things away, but we are always the same people, no matter how many costumes we put on. Our personality is different, from person to person, but it is not unique either, just particular.

 And that should be enough from us. Why singling us out to the world when we know we all have the capacity to do exactly the same things? We can all be singers and actors and engineers because we all have the capacity to be each one of those things and many more. What we decide in life, however, it is matter of the current conditions we live with and our personal convictions and tastes, that are also no special but at least they differ a bit from person to person because, as we all know, we are all made from the same stuff but we are not copies of one another. We are very similar and not identical and that should be enough for us to stop tormenting us by everything and start living for real.

Thoughts by the beach

   As I woke up, I felt the soft caress of the sun on my back and feet. I also felt it all over my body: my arms, my thighs, my neck. It was just the best way to wake up and to remember what is great about the holidays and the world. Work and work and work. Who even likes doing that? I doubt anyone does. People should learn have to live for their work; their work should revolve around them. That obsession for perfecting things for someone else, I will never understand. What is so great about being a slave? Why are so many people proud of that? They parade around parties and life declaring to anyone that will listen how much they love their work and how much they do for it. To me, that always sounds pathetic, even if their work is actually great.

 As I turn over and feel the sun on my chest, tummy and legs, and most importantly on my face, I realize that I’m not one of those people. I mean. I don’t even have a job. No one has ever given me the chance to prove my worth as an employee and that will probably never happen as I’m a writer and the game there is a little bit different, although I guess I’ll have to be nice to my editor and my publisher, once I’m finally in that situation. No, I’d rather not think about that right now. Why would I ruin such a beautiful day by torturing myself again with the same thing again? It wouldn’t make sense and I’m simply not interested on feeling like crap just for the sake of it. I have felt like that before and I have to say that I’m not a fan.

 I sit down on the sand and look at the ocean, hearing the beautiful sound it makes. I don’t hear the children playing ball or the youngsters with their music and loud conversation, I only hear the ocean and its beautiful sound that makes any soul become calm. It is nice to think about all the people that have sat where I’m seating and have wondered about life, just as I do. This beach has to have a very big history of tourists and locals that span many years. Many some woman waited for her husband to come back home here. Or maybe, two men realized they loved each other right here. Or maybe a little girl discovered the beauty of the night sky and grew older loving the stars and constellations.

 To me, the world is always amazing by itself, but some people make it a little bit more special. Not every person has that gift, though. Some people actually make some places even less special than before, which is something pretty difficult to make unless you’re a really shitty person. But the world is filled with them. To be honest, I do think the world has more good people than bad people. But it also has more dumb people than clever people. And I don’t only mean according to education, because sometimes a man can be really smart without going to school and another man holding a doctorate can be the biggest moron you have ever seen. Because knowledge and intelligence are two very different things.

 I’ve known my fair share of guys that are just full of knowledge but almost entirely non-intelligent. And no, there’s no relation to stereotypes that people have because there’s always someone that breaks the stereotype. But there other that are walking proof of them, like a photographer who wears sunglasses and a long coat or a stupid blonde. Those are proofs of stereotypes. But, of course, there are many exceptions to all those “rules” and it’s not difficult to find them. People are just not that simple to categorize because they have a way of always surprising you with what they do. Have you ever felt that, that completely confusion sense of aw in front of someone you had no idea existed?

 The sand feels really nice on the feet, especially after walking so much from home to the beach. I touch it with my hands too and realize the grains are very soft, which feels even better on the body. A game of volleyball has started very near and the kids that were playing with a ball are now running around the beach with a kite on their hands. It’s funny to me how some parents have everything their kid might need on their car or, in the case of mother’s, in their purse. It’s like a magic trick although, it saddens me because they bring so many things and it makes me wonder if the reason for it is that they don’t really know what their kids like. Parents have always been oblivious to tings like that but now more than ever.

 I’m not saying that parents before were amazing because they weren’t always or all of them. But isn’t it more and more common to see a couple just ignoring their kids instead of hearing them and seeing what their opinion is of the world? Isn’t that interesting to everyone: to hear what a child, a person that hasn’t been here long, has to say about the world? Of course, kids are biased because they learn by looking and by repetition, not much difference to birds. The difference is that many kids, if raised right, have the gift of doubt from an early age. I don’t think I’m going to have any children, but if I ever do I hope they are inquisitive at all times, doubting everything and asking questions when they feel like it.

 I’d rather have that than some kids that only drool and cry, a reflection on bad parenting I guess. Oh, there they are. It’s those gym guys that always come to the beach to play volleyball after they have been working out in front of everyone. To me, that’s some funny shit. And sorry if I offend you by saying that but, honesty is paramount. People get so obsessed and fixated on something that it can become their whole lives. I mean, yes, the guys are very hot and sexy and attractive but they’re not interesting or at least they don’t look like it. Another stereotype I guess. Yeah, there’s the ball and they have started playing, like clockwork. And I noticed I’m not the only one watching.

 But that makes me turn my head and face the ocean again, which seems a little bit darker that before. I look up and see a big gray cloud, hovering just parallel to the beach. But my head it’s still with the boys playing volleyball. I instantly cover myself by pressing my legs against my chest and by “hugging” my legs. As I put my chin on one of my knees, I realize what it is about those guys that I don’t like. Well, I already know but it is awful to be reminded that I have a way of feeling less than them. Society had made them the model and not me and when I walk around without a shirt the sight is not as… pleasant, I guess. They make me feel like shit and I’m sure I’m not the only one. It’s not their fault but the fault of the media that created ridiculous standards to match our ridiculous society.

  The gray cloud moves very slowly, as a lion deciding whether to launch itself towards the wildebeest or wait there for a better catch. Because of the cloud, the climate has gone colder and the sun cannot be felt anymore. I guess that for me the day is over, so I grab my backpack, put my towel inside and stand up. As I put my backpack on, I glance one last time to the see. That big mass of water has so many secrets and no matter how much I stare at it, it won’t reveal any of them. I guess that’s one of the many things that amaze me about coming to the beach and just appreciating the natural aspect of it instead of looking at people.

 I turn around and walk slowly towards the showers, which are located by the sidewalk made of concrete. There I clean my feet and my whole body from many grains of sad that may have taken residence anywhere on my body. I clean my waist by putting my hand just below my bathing trunks and then I see it. Or rather, him. One of the guys playing volleyball hit the ball too hard and sends it close to where I’m standing. The guy that comes to pick it up, instead of taking the ball, has decided to stare at me as I clean myself. Once we have eye contact, he takes the ball and returns to the game. I do not move as quickly. I move aside and dry myself with the towel and, as I do, I look towards the guys.

 He’s the tallest one playing, nice body and very cute smile as they play. Maybe I imagined him looking at me and he was really looking at someone or something else. But maybe not and that possibility is good enough for me. As I end the drying session and put on some thongs, I realize he’s looking my way again. And he decides to wave, saying “goodbye” I guess. I do the same and he smiles and let’s say I can die after having seen that smile. As I walk towards the metro station, I realize it had been a very good day for me. But it hasn’t ended yet as the night might come with more surprises. As I enter the station, the rain starts to pour. I knew I had to leave fast.