Work on a Saturday

   As fast as I could, I grabbed a pair of socks and put them on fast. The guy kept ringing and ringing, as if it was possible I hadn’t heard the doorbell the last one hundred times or that I had just fallen asleep after speaking with the doorman about letting him in. Some people were just very rude and I had no idea this guy could be this rude. Finally, I went to the door and opened.

 He barely looked at me as he entered my place, sat on the sofa in front of the TV and, for no apparent reason, grabbed the remote and turned it on. Confused for a few seconds, I decided to stand in front of him and ask what he was doing here. It was then that I noticed he had brought a backpack with him, which he had dropped on the floor.

 The man, whose name was Alex, told me our boss had asked him to fix the work we had done back at the office. As the work had been done by the both of us, and only I had some of the information, he decided it was a better idea to come all the way to my home and finish the work together. In any case, he didn’t seem that interested to have any work done as he kept changing channels and moved on the sofa to find the best spot possible. As the natural nice person that I am, I decided to offer him what little I had in the kitchen (orange juice and wafers).

 But I put the plate on my dining table, a small round surface from which he could watch TV but also pay attention to whatever it was that I had to do. After great insistence and with food as my ally, Alex finally got up from the sofa only to sit down heavily on one of the dining table’s chairs. He grabbed his backpack, took out his laptop from there and asked me the password of my Wi-Fi network.

 To be honest I was going to tell him we could do it all from my computer, as I thought the internet might prove to be another distraction but then he told me he needed to send me the email with all the details about the information we had to change and some other things that we had to add. Finally I gave up and gave him the password. To my surprise, he was fast to send me the email and in fifteen minutes we were already in full work mode.

 The work we had to do was long and it would take time to get all the information necessary to finish it thoroughly. As we advanced, I realized I seemed more distracted than he was at the start of the session. I mean, I was entering all the wrong numbers; even my grammar seemed to be getting worse by the minute. And the truth is that I was distracted. After all, it was Saturday evening and I had planned to stay at home, order takeout and watch at least three movies on a row. Working with that guy wasn’t on my mind.

  Alex and I had never really bonded at the office. To be honest, we had only spoken to each other about work related subjects and for an hour straight, at most. Now he was in my house, eating all my wafers, not speaking to me and it had been more than an hour from his arrival. If he was going to stay any more time, I needed to be able to be myself in my house. After all, he had not called prior to his arrival or warned me in any possible way. What if I had been out with my friends or something?

 Well that wasn’t really possible as all of them were busy with their own stuff but, hey, it was a possibility, however remote it may seem. So I decided to try and chat with him but that seemed pointless. I asked him if he lived far but he only said he had taken the bus. No idea what that was supposed to mean. Then I asked him about people in the office and he answered me by asking a nine-digit number that I had in my laptop. No, he seemed inclined to get the job done fast.

 I hadn’t thought of it but Alex might have had plans or something and now he was stuck in my place working. So it was logical that he would prefer the job done than answering my silly questions every few seconds. So I decided to shut up and just offer him some more juice. No more wafers. Now that I realized, it was almost eight o’clock and my belly had begun to complain. What if I ordered a pizza, as I had planned? True, I hadn’t planned on sharing it with anyone but at least that way I could have part of the night I had envisioned earlier.

-      -  Hey, would you like some pizza?

 Those were like magic words as he turned, raised his arms to stretch his body and smiled. It was the first time, in almost two years of watching him in the office, that I thought he was rather good-looking. I mean, some of my friends at work had told me he was “hot” or had “a nice piece of ass or even that he looked like, at least, three celebrities. But I had not realized about any of that until that night in my place.

-       - Sure. I’m starving. What would you like on it?

 I’m sure I looked like an idiot right then because it took me a long time to understand what he had just said. Seconds felt like hours and when I spoke, it didn’t make any sense at all. I tried again, and this time I had perfectly said:

-       - What about veggies and meat lovers? That’s my regular…

-       - Awesome. Love it. Nice choice.

He only said that but I blushed as if he had just told me something much more intimate. I shook off the feeling as I grabbed the phone and made the order to the pizza place I usually called on weekends. Not that I ever dated but it had been quite a long time since that and when I got out with friends it was frequently on Fridays. For some reason, I didn’t like to go out on a Saturday, unless the day called for it, so only for very good reasons.

 I sat down in front of my laptop and started entering some more data, numbers, statistics and so on. I didn’t even try to talk for the next half an hour or so. I only stared at my screen and answered Alex’s questions as fast as I could, without even looking at him. I felt him staring from time to time but I suddenly felt very self-conscious and I really didn’t want to talk to anyone.

That thought was soon interrupted, when the delivery guy made his appearance. Apparently there had been some kind of malfunction in a machine at the pizza place, so they were handing out these bread sticks made out of pizza dough before they went bad. I paid for my pizza, took the food and thanked the nice man. As I turned, I realized Alex had taken my computed and his and put them, with everything else that had been on the table, on the kitchen counter.

  I put down the two boxes on the table and he eagerly began to talk, as he opened both boxes and grabbed a napkin. Suddenly, for whatever reason, I smiled and decided to go along. After all, we had been working for hours and we needed some time to relax. I asked him about what he had planned to do today before knowing we had to work. Alex, who appeared to enjoy pizza very much, told me he might have gone out with some friends and drink beer or maybe just watch a movie at home.

 I told him that had been my plan: pizza and movies. Then he smiled and said something I thought I had heard wrong:

-       - Cool. We could do that after we’re done.

I didn’t answer right away but apparently he was too busy dipping the “pizza sticks” on a special sauce so no problem there. Again, he smiled and looked so much more noticeable to me than ever before.

-       - Why hadn’t we ever really talked?

To my surprise, it was him that had made the question, even if I had been thinking about it for that few minutes. Weirdly enough, I didn’t have the answer or at least not one that made any sense at all. I had no idea why I had never tried to bond with him, even if I had in fact done it with virtually anyone else on our office. It wasn’t like I was friends with everyone but I had tried to be nice to everyone and let them know they could count on me for all work-related stuff. So why did I never approached him?

-       - Do you hate or something?

-      - No. – I said with confidence. – It’s not that.

-       - Then what?

 He has stopped eating and was staring at me, almost without blinking. I didn’t have the answer to his question but, deep down, I knew why I hadn’t spoke to him at all. Maybe it was just because I liked him and I had shut down that possibility from day one. So I told him that out loud and asked him if he wanted more orange juice. He nodded so I went to the kitchen for more.

 We finished work two hours later and, at last moment, I asked him if we would stay for a movie. He said yes.

El tiempo

   Todos los hemos pensado alguna vez en la vida: que pasaría si pudiésemos volver al pasado y cambiar algo que hicimos bien por lo que ahora pensamos que deberíamos haber hecho? Y si pudiéramos tener una segunda oportunidad siempre, para enmendar nuestros errores o para hacer las cosas de un modo más favorable para nosotros? El tiempo es algo que nos atrapa y ni nos damos cuenta y nos frustra cuando vemos que es una de esas cosas que no podemos controlas y sobre las que nuestra humanidad es completamente inútil.

 Sé que yo lo he pensado alguna vez. Desde tonterías como tener más tiempo para responder mejor a un insulto o un piropo hasta detenerlo, para poder guardar el momento de una manera más especial, más segura. Después de todo estamos obsesionados con el concepto de “perfección”, un concepto que de hecho es inexistente ya que, por definición, todos los seres humanos somos deficientes en una u otra manera. Incluso aquellos que nacen con cuerpos cien por ciento funcionales o un aspecto físico que responden a los cánones de belleza imperantes, tienen imperfecciones que van más profundo que la superficialidad de la belleza.

 Lo queremos todo bello, bonito, hermoso. Pero eso porque sabemos que el mundo en realidad simplemente no es así. El mundo también es asqueroso, desagradable y enfermizo. La vida es ambas cosas y negar va en directo detrimento de la otra. Cuando deseamos para el tiempo o cambiar lo que hicimos, con frecuencia tiene meta hacer de nuestras vidas algo más ejemplar, algo más nítido y pulido. En otras palabras, algo perfecto. Lo irónico es que si hay algo imperfecto en el mundo, es la vida humana.

 Estamos hechos para equivocarnos. Si no lo hiciésemos, no seríamos humanos sino algo más que no hemos descubierto porque no existe. Y sin embargo, seguimos buscándole ese quiebre al tiempo, una manera de ganarle por lo menos una vez. Esa es la razón por la cual las personas han buscado, durante mucho tiempo borrar las marcas del tiempo de sus cuerpos. Las arrugas, manchas y demás “anomalías” son sistemáticamente borradas, como si se tratase de un libro que hay que ir corrigiendo con el paso de los años.

 Otros viven constantemente con la cabeza metida en el pasado. Están obsesionados con lo que hicieron o dejaron de hacer. A veces incluso están tan decepcionados del presente que preferirían, con seguridad, vivir en un momento pasado en el que el caos fuese menor. Es fácil entender el porqué de la fascinación con el pasado, con lo que ya ocurrió. Se trata, después de todo de un momento en el cual, a pesar de que ciertas cosas ya pasaron, hay otras que no y que podríamos evitar o simplemente solucionar de esa manera. La obsesión del hombre con volver al pasado en obras de ciencia ficción es simplemente porque no aceptamos nuestros errores. Estamos tan adiestrados para ser perfectos, para aspirar a serlo, que cualquier cosa que nos recuerde lo defectuosos que somos nos hiere fuertemente.

 Como hay los unos, los hay de los otros, los que están con la cabeza en el futuro. Esto es sin duda un poco más difícil de comprender ya que no se entiende como alguien puede estar obsesionado, con la mirada fija en acontecimientos que no han tenido lugar. Se trata de aquellas personas que todo lo planean, que tienen una lista y una estructura predeterminada para todo. Son personas que olvidan que la vida biológica de un ser humano no se rige por reglas o por la exactitud. Solo somos y nada más. No somos de una manera determinada ni definida y los que miran el futuro seguido lo olvidan.

 Otra razón es que son personas con mucha fe y esperanza. La mayoría de personas religiosas tienen siempre una parte de su cabeza en el futuro, ya que aspiran siempre a que sus creencias se cumplan. Esperan ver a su dios después de morir o esperan ser salvados de cualquier accidente porque creen que hay alguien que los cuida. Incluso si la vida les demuestra seguido que estamos solo como humanidad, ellos siguen creyendo que en el futuro estarán reunidos con su dios en los cielos o que serán recompensados por sus actos de bondad. Los no religiosos que ven al futuro son simplemente aquellos incansables optimistas, que jamás ven nada de malo en el mundo a pesar de que sin lo malo, lo bueno no existiría.

 El tiempo es calificado sistemáticamente como un enemigo ya que no tenemos herramienta alguna para enfrentarlo. No existe ningún arma o táctica para hacer que se detenga, para hacer que cambie su manera de ser. Porque lo que pasa es que el tiempo solo pasa y sigue, y nada más. Algunos podrían decir que el tiempo es un fragmento de lo que compone nuestro espacio vital, pero otros dirían que el tiempo es solo una línea infinita a la que, como seres mortales, estamos unidos para siempre.

 Para la gran mayoría, el tiempo es un castigo. Que es lo que más impacta en las cortes cuando condenan a alguien? No el lugar de la reclusión o las razones tal cual sino la cantidad de tiempo que es personas estará allí, encerrada. Cual es una de las primeras cosas que preguntamos a alguien nuevo? Su edad. Incluso muchas personas se ofenden si se les hace la pregunta de un momento a otro. Porque ven la edad como algo que los hace cada vez menos perfectos, menos eficientes.

 Es gracioso, si se ponen a pensarlo, ya que el enemigo número uno de la humanidad es el tiempo y, sin embargo, toda nuestra vida la enmarcamos en ese tiempo. Hace mucho nos dimos por vencidos y simplemente dejamos de desafiarlo cada vez que podemos. No encontramos otra forma de manejar nuestras vidas y desde el primer momento de la inteligencia humana sometimos todo lo que sabemos y somos a esa infinita línea del tiempo que nos amarra y simplemente no nos deja ir, ni siquiera cuando ya dejamos de ser parte de este mundo.

 Pero el tiempo no siempre es cruel. Para una mente abierta, liberada de las enajenaciones de la sociedad imperante en el mundo, el tiempo puede ser un aliado implacable. Porque el tiempo pasa pero somos nosotros, después de todo, quienes decidimos que hacemos con él. El tiempo se mueve y no se detiene pero nosotros podemos usarlo para aprender. Porque esa es la razón para la vida humana. Aprender y nada más. No estamos aquí para reproducirnos ni para querernos. Estamos para comprender el mundo y darle algo a cambio. Nuestro intelecto tiene la gran capacidad de usar el tiempo de la mejor manera posible: se trata de crear.

 Es mentira que solo los dioses puedan crear. Cuando se dice eso casi siempre hablan de obras como crear todo un mundo o crear vida de la nada. Pero nosotros podemos hacer las dos cosas. En este momento de nuestra evolución y aunque con los típicos errores de seres imperfectos como nosotros, somos capaces de crear objetos nunca antes vistos, de modificar nuestro mundo para mejorar nuestras posibilidades de supervivencia y de generar vida donde antes no había nada. Personas que no estaban diseñadas para tener hijos, ahora los tienen y es posible que cada vez esto sea más fácil.

 Hay que tomar en cuenta que ya no somos los mismos de antes. Aunque seguimos sometidos bajo el martillo de la guerra, hemos sido capaces, de vez en cuando y en pequeños grupos, de avanzar juntos como una sola especie que somos. Porque al tiempo no le interesan nuestras diferencias. Al tiempo no le importa si eres hombre o mujer, negro o blanco, tu estatura, tu peso, tu preferencia sexual o el color de tus ojos. Eso simplemente no es de interés porque no cambia nada de cómo el tiempo no envuelve y nos afecta.

 Si pudiéramos entender ese simple hecho, podríamos por fin dejar de pelear contra el paso del tiempo y dedicar esos esfuerzos a hacer lo mejor posible con los segundos, minutos, horas y días que tenemos de vida. Porque, a pesar de todo, seguimos siendo tan mortales como lo fuimos en los primeros días de nuestra existencia. Seguimos muriendo, uno a uno, y eso no va a cambiar jamás, sin importar los muchos avances que tenga la ciencia. La muerte, ligada al tiempo es una realidad que tenemos que aceptar.

 Y así como el tiempo, la muerte no debería ser un enemigo nuestro ni tampoco deberíamos tenerle miedo. Porque tenerle miedo a algo que nos hace quienes somos? Porque tener miedo al momento clave de nuestras vidas, aquel en el que entregamos el manto de nuestra existencia. Podemos hacer de ese momento el punto culminante de una vida de la cual estar orgullosos, con errores, deficiencias y sentimientos puros y reales. Porque ni el tiempo ni la muerte son nuestros enemigos sino nuestros aliados más incondicionales.

200

   They descended from the sky, like rain. They didn’t fall hard on the ground but rather softly, walking slowly after landing. They looked like simple robots but everyone watching knew what they were: androids. The last generation that had been built in the Takashima factories, in what remained of Japan. They were the last remnants of technology as Takashima was the only company still spending so much money on technology.

 People didn’t like that and had tried, several times, to disable the factory. But that had proven impossible. The owners of Takashima had found out how to be independent, not relying on the energy generated by any of the public dams or energy plants. No one knew how although some speculated they had reactivated a nearby nuclear facility or maybe they were harnessing the power of the ocean waves.

 No matter how they did it, the androids were landing in small groups, all over the world. Takashima had been hired, in the midst of chaos, to ensure security wherever they could. Only fifty countries were chosen for the trial run and two hundred androids had been built to be the first to ensure the safety of the people. Those first hundred had the toughest job as humans did not like to be lectured or punished by what people in the slums called “inhumans”. And they called them liked that because they had no visible feelings, no remorse when killing or hurting someone.

 Their job was to protect people but in order to do that; other would have to be eliminated. For the next year, thousands of thieves, murderers, rapists, drug dealers and con artists, among many others, were arrested or killed on the spot if they had resisted. There was no way to escape one of the two hundred when they became angry, if that can be said. Because a machine does not become angry, it just enters another mode in it’s programming and responds only to those directives.

 The people that remained in the destroyed cities began to fear the robots. Small groups of rebels formed but they were always destroyed by the androids, not even having a chance at defying them somehow. On the other hand, the few governments that remained were very happy with these prototypes. They were behaving exactly as they had predicted and, in some time, the occupation of the now empty territories could be achieved with the help of a new generation of androids.

 Because, as always in the world, the powerful are the ones that really control all situations. It was them who paid Takashima Industries to build the robots in a time when money was not abundant. The needed that help because their rule was coming to an end and, effectively, the androids turned the tide in favor, again, of the powerful. The rebels, who were mainly poor and many more, had won several territory and were starting to colonize the remains that the war had left them. But the androids took that all from them in just a few weeks.

 The first two hundred were scheduled to be decommissioned after the first two years but that didn’t happen. Takashima assured the governments that those androids were still in pretty good shape and could serve as a support for the new generation of robots they were preparing in the factory, which had grown to the size of a small city.

 The United States invaded the “empty” territories shortly afterwards, when the second wave of androids was ready. They were another two hundred, better equipped for land and aerial assault. They were more military and had only one directive: obey the orders of their commanders. They did not protect civilians nor guarded for no one’s security. Although more evolved, they were brutes, cybernetic bullies at the service of the oppressor.

 The invasion of the territories was fast. Practically no resistance came from the few inhabitants that had remained, becoming slaves for the enjoyment of the new masters of the land. They formed several small states, each greatly relying in the strength and relentlessness of the new generation of androids.

The first two hundred, however, were removed from the colonies and returned to protect people in what became known as The Core. This was the most part of the northern hemisphere, where the wealthy of the new world were still settled. The androids there protect people, much like policemen and soon became loved by these inhabitants, which grew to like them and trust them. So much they did trust them that children even greeted any android they saw on the street and, as androids that they were, the artificial life forms began developing a relationship with the humans.

 That was not the case, at all, in the colonies. All artificial life was evil. That was what the native inhabitants knew and they were always very careful around them as any sign of rebellion was enough to be killed on the spot, it didn’t matter where it was. Their masters never cared, making the slaves clean the mess that the androids had caused. It was brutality at it’s best and no one dared to challenge the state of things.

 That is except the group that called themselves the Invisibles. No one really knew whom they were or if they were actually human. It was rather impossible they weren’t but slaves, in their quarters, loved to speculate that it was an advanced alien race that had come to save them from their masters. Of course, they were wrong. The Invisible were nothing more than people who had welcomed back their savage ancestry, behaving like animals and living in the woods and forests.

 Many territories of the world had not been recolonized after the war, so many of the survivors had gone into hiding there, slowly becoming more and more animal, losing themselves to nature and trying to forget the technology that they had used in the past. Not all survivors had taken this path and were now dead or enslaved. The Invisibles apparent goal was to be forgotten by the rest of the world, asking them to be left alone and leaving behind all trace of their disastrous humanity.

 The official of the Core knew about them but they regarded them only as intelligent animals, nothing more than a chimpanzee or a gorilla. But the Invisibles had not shed all of their humanity yet. They still had enough to seek revenge. And for many years they planned, away from everyone and everything. They sought to destroy the Takashima factory, once and for all.

 Although they did not speak that much anymore, they knew that this had been their target for a long time and the only logical thing was to proceed with their old plan. Once it had been done, they could go back to the forests and just live a peaceful life in the nature. They had no intention of breaking the rule of the Core, nor of liberating the many slaves of the world. They were a small group and they were going to use that only to avenge their deceased. That was it.

 Slowly, for some years, they travelled the wilderness until they arrived to the ancient country of Japan. That wasn’t the name the Core used anymore, changing the world so much, even the names, for people not to remember who they were. All of those all country names had ceased to exist.

 Takashima Industries was located on a small island, off the coast of Kyushu. The savages waited, scouting the island from afar, planning their strategy with care. The island could only be reached by boat and the place was heavily guarded. So it was best to do it at night. After all, they had dragged with them a secret weapon, which they knew would be essential to their plans. They stayed hidden for some weeks until they had a raft ready to sail closer to the island.

 On the raft travelled only two people: a woman, partial leader of the group, who used to be a scientist and a strong man, who used to be a military officer. There was a third passenger though. It was one of the first two hundred, an android that the Invisibles had defeated in battle, the only one that had ever fallen to them. They sailed the raft midway towards the island and then the woman pushed a few buttons on the back of the robot. The creature lit up and people on the shore could see their plan was working. The android was blind but functional. The man whispered a few coordinates to his cybernetic ear and then waited. The android then stood up and fired a rocket from his hand.

 The rocket flew up and this gave time to the raft to go back to the shore and escape with the rest of the Invisibles. Shortly after, the bomb fell on the factory, fully destroying every single piece of equipment on the island and killing hundreds of workers. It was the end of Takashima Industries as the Core decided to build new androids by themselves, even going as far as torturing the founder of the factory and making him give them all his research on artificial intelligence. Afterwards, he was killed by fire squad, falsely accused of treason.

 The Invisibles returned to the forest, with their android companion, and disappeared for years in the thickness of nature. But they would return again, very soon.

Sentir

   No sientes a veces que es difícil volver? Volver a ese momento exacto en que fuiste interminablemente feliz, en que experimentaste la más grande paz que jamás haya nadie sentido en esta vida? No importa si fue realidad o si fue un sueño o incluso algo entre los dos. No, lo que importa es que estuviste allí, lleno de esperanza o de miedo, de excitación o de asco. Sentiste y no hay nada más hermoso que eso.

 El miedo es un gran aliado, por ejemplo. Nos deja saber que hay peligro y nos mantiene a salvo, a expensas, muchas veces, de nuestra salud e incluso de nuestra reputación. A veces cuando respondemos al miedo se nos tilda de cobardes o miedosos. Y que? Y que si lo somos? Orgullosos deberíamos de estar de ser unos cobardes que responden a la química básica de la naturaleza que, en su gran sabiduría, quiso que tuviéramos formas de escapar y de seguir viviendo. De pronto creyó que valía la pena mantenernos vivos aunque, a diferencia de dios, la naturaleza nos hizo y luego nos dejó en paz, a nuestro suerte, sin mirar atrás.

 De allí, parece ser, que sale la esperanza. Esa amalgama de sentimientos que es la esperanza, que es tonta y pasiva, sentándose a esperar sin hacer nada más. Porque eso es lo que es, solo esperar y creer tontamente en algo que simplemente no va a ocurrir. La esperanza es el miedo, el amor y muchos otros mezclados en uno. La esperanza es algo que, al final, no sirve de nada porque no ayuda en nada. La mejor forma de luchar es con manos y dientes y nuestra mente, que son lo único que tenemos. Esperar a ver no sirve a menos que se trate de un tiempo de reflexión, algo muy distinto.

 La esperanza fue aquella tonta que inventó la religión, que no acaba de ser nada más que ponerse una banda sobre los ojos y confiar en lo que otros dicen o hacen respecto a nuestra existencia como seres humanos. Yo no creo en bandas. Creo en la liberación del espíritu y la esperanza no es liberación sino esclavitud de la mente a ideas que pueden o no ser reales. No, yo prefiero experimentar sentimientos de verdad.

 La felicidad es uno de esos, uno de los mejores y más simples. A diferencia de lo que muchos dicen, la felicidad es bastante fácil de conseguir. Lo difícil es conservarla porque, siendo seres egoístas como lo somos, queremos todo para siempre y a la mano, no nos queremos mover de nuestra comodidad, incluso si eso nos ayudase a vivir de verdad la única vida que tenemos. Pero a veces nos dejamos llevar y, acaso no somos mucho más felices cuando lo hacemos? Así sea por unos segundos, la felicidad puede llegar de acciones tan simples como el ver a otro ser humano. A veces con eso basta.

 Deberíamos aprender a disfrutar esos momentos, en vez de vivir quejándonos respecto a su efímera existencia. Lamentablemente los seres humanos no vivimos los momentos sino que nos desgastamos queriendo preservarlos, como si un sentimiento, un momento en el tiempo incluso, pudiesen ser encerrados en una caja de cristal para poder apreciarlos una y otra vez a lo largo de nuestra vidas. Pero sabemos que eso no es así. Una foto nos recuerda el sentimiento pero nada más. No nos lleva allí y nunca sentimos exactamente lo mismo al ver el recuerdo. Solo podemos estar allí siempre que los sentimientos ocurran, para vivirlos en el momento y dejar de pensar en atrás o adelante.

 El placer es otro de esos sentimientos que yacen muchas veces en el pasado y el futuro. Y de la forma más odiosa ya que, con frecuencia, se trata de comparaciones entre una persona y otra, entre un momento y otro. Comparar es algo detestable ya que estamos poniendo todo lo que vivimos en un mismo nivel y eso es simplemente ridículo. No hay una comida más rica que otra, no hay un viaje más placentero que otro ni hay un mejor beso que otro. Puede que con el tiempo la percepción cambie pero en el momento de lo ocurrido los placeres suelen estar al mismo nivel y satisfacen casi siempre igual.

 Obviamente existen las experiencias horribles e incluso asquerosas, no todo es una cama de rosas en la vida. Pero incluso esas experiencias no pueden clasificarse, porque son únicas a su momentos, a su manera de haber sido sentidas. A veces desechamos muy rápido las experiencias que repudiamos pero también de ellas se aprende ya que definimos quienes somos a partir de lo que nos gusta y lo que no.

 Precisamente por todo esto es que es una idiotez, del tamaño de una casa, el decidir olvidar algo o a alguien a voluntad. No hay nada más odioso e infantil que creer que con olvidar algo se soluciona la vida o el dolor es menos. Todos sabemos que eso no es cierto. Todos sabemos, así no lo hagamos, que lo que de verdad llena de calma nuestra mente es saber. Simplemente eso. Saber que ocurre a nuestro alrededor y tener todos los datos. Al final y al cabo somos seres curiosos, que todo lo que quieren averiguar y saber. Nuestra humanidad está basada en ese afán de saber cada vez más.

 Por eso mismo negarse a la realidad, a los hechos, es una ridiculez. Si sufriste, si te han herido, si hay algo que te atemoriza o que te desafía solamente aprende de ello. Hacer como cualquier científico o investigador es lo mejor y lo natural: aprender porque pasan las cosas y que es lo que pasa en realidad. Así se desprende todo en pedazos más pequeños, más fáciles de absorber por nuestra mente y es así como se encuentra un equilibrio mental más seguro, una paz de espíritu que nada más da sino saber, aprender y enfrentar la realidad.

 La valentía es otro de esos sentimientos. Y para ser tan real, tan físico, a veces parece que se trata algo imaginario o que nunca nos parece lo suficiente. Es efímero en muchas ocasiones y no sale cuando lo buscamos sino cuando mejor le parece. Casi nadie es valiente por decisión consciente sino por un impulso, más allá de su entendimiento, que lo lleva a hacer algo que otros pueden considerar como una acto de bondad arriesgado pero exitoso. Los que fingen ser valientes siempre lo que tienen es miedo de decepcionar y vale la pena decir que la valentía real nunca se relaciona, ni en lo más mínimo, con el miedo.

 En todo esto es cuando entra, con frecuencia, a jugar nuestros instintos más básicos. Se trate de procrear o de defender a nuestra familia, hay ciertas cosas que no decidimos que simplemente entran en juego porque somos seres biológicos, animales inteligente pero animales al fin y al cabo. Esa pasión que no para cuando vemos a alguien que nos gusta, cuando por fin podemos estar a solas con esa persona, ese es un instinto animal puro, un sentimiento ancestral que busca preservar nuestra especie.

 Lo cómico que tiene este sentimiento es que no hay manera real de controlarlo. Es más él que nos controla y se olvida de todo, incluso de las posibilidades reales que hay de procreación, con quien sea que estemos en el momento. Incluso si nuestra mente sabe que somos dos hombres, dos mujeres o que estamos con alguien que no puede procrear, la pasión elimina todas esas reflexiones y no deja más que l puro instinto animal, que reside muy profundo en nuestro subconsciente y que nadie, ni el más inteligente ni el más idiota, pueden controlar.

 La vergüenza puede entrar a jugar muchas veces cuando el placer se va y volvemos a ser nosotros, los que tienen dominio sobre sí mismos. Lo hermoso del placer verdadero, no del falso que muchas personas reclaman tener con cada persona que conocen, es que simplemente pone a un lado todo lo demás que pueda estar ocurriendo, todo lo demás que exista en el mundo incluso las inseguridades más latentes de cada uno.

 A causa de la evolución humana, nos hicieron avergonzarnos de nuestros cuerpos y es algo que hasta ahora estamos tratando de eliminar. Se nos implantó, a la fuerza, un sentimiento de culpa y miedo que terminó llamándose vergüenza. Se parece un poco a la esperanza en cuanto a que no es un sentimiento puro sino una mezcla de muchas cosas. La vergüenza, un poco como la esperanza, tiende a ahogar poco a poco la personalidad de las personas, cohibiendo ciertos comportamientos y amaestrándolos poco a poco, llevándolos a ser criaturas pérdidas.

 De ahí nace la creciente inseguridad que todos sentimos en el mundo de hoy. Y ese, ese un sentimiento oscuro y asesino. La esperanza y la vergüenza son juguetes para niños al lado de la inseguridad, aquella que crea miedos tan profundos que es imposible llegar a la persona detrás de todo los velos oscuros impuestos por un sentimiento que la sociedad, como grupo, impone en todo el mundo. Lo malo es que no todos saben como luchar contra ella. Nadie la elimina por completo pero la controlan o la ignoran. Otros, al contrario, se entregan a ella y dejan de ser. Y no hay nada peor que eso.

 Los sentimientos pueden ser nuestra perdición o nuestra más grande y hermosa realidad. Independientemente de cualquier cosa, hacen parte de quienes somos, nos hacen ser y nos hacen hacer. Gracias a ellos existimos y por ellos podríamos dejar de existir. Sentir es, sin duda, una experiencia demasiado buena para dejarla pasar.