Unexpected

 He was very nervous. Samuel gave him a cigarette and told him to go smoke it outside, by the bushes that covered a large part of the house. As they filmed inside with another guy, he was smoking, his hands shaking and even his lips turning a very bright pink. He had been chosen just of the street, after one of the producers had just loved the way he looked. He wasn’t a very hipster boy or anything like that, he was just naturally beautiful and that was something they really needed in their movies.

 There was a market for those who liked guys like him, the kind that looks very young but that’s old enough to sign a contract and win a decent amount of money for working in the adult industry. Of course, there was always the problem of him never having done anything like that. The producer had told him it was something very safe and very private or at least as private as it could be when the video could be seen by, at least, a million people online. The point was that it was a very lucrative business.

 And the guy needed it. His name was Phillip and he had no money to go to college. He lived with his single mom and a little sister. She was being sent to public school, so her mom had no money worries there. But she just couldn’t do anything for her son. Her advice for him was to just get a job and start making money, in order to avoid giving his future family a life like that one. He was saddened by those words but, at the same time, it was funny that his mom had no idea he had no interest in women or families.

 He accepted the offer by calling the producer the night he talked with his mother. They agreed to do a screen test, with a video camera and taking some pictures. For him, that was no problem. He just did what they asked from him and, not surprisingly, he was all that they could wish for in a guy and maybe even more. He looked exactly like what their audience was asking for. He was very flattered when they told him this, not really understanding the whole dimension of the matter. The important thing was he was going to get paid.

 However, the morning of the first shooting he realized that, although he had sexual experience, he had never done it in front of so many people. There was a camera guy and his assistant, a makeup person, the sound guys, the director, a producer and, of course, the other guy that would be having sex with him. It was al a bit overwhelming when he first saw it all and that’s when Samuel the sound guy gave him a cigarette and told him to go outside and chill for a bit. It was a good advice. Phillip tried to calm down but he wasn’t fully calmed when he was called inside, in order to begin.

 To his surprise, he had neglected to realize he was going to have sex with only one person. So when they started touching and kissing, the others just seemed to disappear. Of course, every now and then, they would say some direction or tell them to move in a certain way. It would break the moment for a bit, but he would go on doing what they were paying him to do. When it was all done, everyone congratulated the pair. The director looked very happy and the producer told Phillip he could be the next big star.

 He got paid right then and there and took the bus straight home to go and stash the bills inside a can he had in his room. He would have loved to tell his mother he was going to make good money, but he realized he had to lie first. He just couldn’t tell her what he was actually doing. Not because it was bad or wrong, his mother was not that kind of person. He just didn’t have any intention to tell her that he was gay. It didn’t seem like the right time to do it. So he had to come up with something else to cover for it.

 Phillip announced her, the next day that he was going to work in a comic book store. He said it was one of those big stores in the fancy side of town, where many men would pay hundreds of dollars for a vintage version of their favorite comic book. She was very surprised but pleased and, as expected, she didn’t ask anything else. Not how he had gotten the job or when or how much did it pay. She was just happy to know her son could take care of himself. Besides, he knew that once he made more money, he would try to help her a bit with it, by buying groceries or paying some of the home bills.

 Time passed and the producers came through with their promises. Some weeks, Phillip had to go and perform for at least four movies. Some were done for the same production company and others would be done by foreign people that would pay to have Phillip in one of their pictures. At the beginning, he was only portrayed as a young innocent boy. But he eventually got into more specific genres within the industry. Of course, nothing too violent or dangerous. He was a pretty boy but not a stupid one.

 More than once, some man somewhere would try to touch him without permission or do crude jokes about him in front of him. At first he tried to just shrug it off, but once he realized he had some weight in the conversations, he started to talk back to people and to let them know exactly what the rules were. One thing was the performances he gave and another, very different, was his intent to be with someone, if there was any intent at all. This made him lose a few jobs but it made others fall in love with him and inviting him to do more work and even a few side things.

 He would do silly videos with some of his costars, in order to raise money for different things, or he would model clothes and accessories for many brands catering to the gay community. The moment he felt he had made it, in some way, was when they asked him to go to the other side of the country to promote some of his movies and also some of the clothes that he had been modeling for. He would make a ton of money doing that and he would also gain much needed exposure that was never a bad thing for anyone.

 His mother thought he was going on a trip to buy rare vintage comic books for the store. It was around then when he felt she knew something, maybe not the whole picture but maybe parts of it. She looked at him differently and would seem to be careful with her words when she spoke to him. He would have liked to ask her what was going on but it would be pushing a little bit too much and it wasn’t worth it, not in that moment that seem to be going so good for her. That part of his personal life could wait.

 However, life never really agrees with anyone. She just takes her own course. On his trip, he met a photographer for a new brand that wanted him as a model. He posed for him and talked a lot during the photo-shoot and at an event where they ran into each other. He realized he really liked that guy, and the guy seemed to really care about him, beyond the pornography and the pictures. Luckily, he too lived on the other side of the country, so they even went back together, talking and talking during the five-hour flight.

 It was about three months into them dating, when Phillips mother told him he was proud of him, no matter what he did. He was confused by that and had no idea what to say. She then grabbed her tablet and showed him an advertisement she had seen online for men’s underwear. It was him. She told him she investigated a little bit more and realized what other business he was working in. Before he could say a word, she assured him it was all fine, because he wasn’t doing anything wrong. It was just different.

 Weeks later, Phillip introduced her to Jonathan, the photographer he had been dating for a while. He really hit it off with her and with his little sister. They would even go to the movies or the park, enjoying the weekends together as a big family. It was a very strange feeling but a good one.

 Phillip kept doing his jobs. Eventually, he moved on more into the modeling aspect of the whole thing, but still loving to work for some brands that let him get in touch with that side of him that gave him a chance in life. It was strange, but he owed it all to pornography. Who would have thought?

Solo una ducha

   Sí, el agua muy caliente quema. Pero aún así se siente mejor que nada en el mundo, sobre todo cuando deseas sentir que las cosas resbalan por tu cuerpo y se precipitan por un drenajes para nunca más volver. Es un momento de paz que pocas veces se puede disfrutar en la vida agitada que todos tenemos hoy en día. La ducha es ese rincón en el que podemos estar solos con nuestros pensamientos por un buen rato, sin que nadie nos interrumpa. No es un lugar para compartir, muy al contrario. Es privado de verdad.

 Siempre que llego tarde a casa, o muy temprano, me gusta relajar el cuerpo con una ducha caliente. Obviamente apenas llego lo que hago es dormir lo más que se pueda pero después me levanto sin nada de ropa, entro al cuarto de baño y abro la llave del agua caliente. Mientras el agua se calienta, me miro en el espejo: casi siempre tengo las ojeras bastante marcadas pero mi cuerpo se ve como casi todos los días, lo que es bueno. No soy fanático de los grandes cambios, ni en mi cuerpo ni en mis alrededores.

 Cuando entro a la ducha, siento como si el agua de verdad limpiara todas las cosas que quiero sacar de mi ser. Puede sonar exagerado, pero creo que todos tenemos algo adentro que nos conmina a experimentar y a romper las normas de lo que está establecido en nuestro mundo. O al menos eso creo yo porque lo he hecho tantas veces. De pronto es por eso mismos que una ducha para mi es algo casi espiritual, como una limpieza profunda de mi alma y mi mente que, así no sea algo permanente, se me hace casi necesaria.

 Al comienzo, solo me quedo de pie bajo el agua, sintiendo como la gotas caen a raudales en mi cara, en mis hombros, en mi cuerpo. Siento las gotas, ya separadas del resto, resbalar por mis piernas, mi espalda y todo mi cuerpo. Se siente tan bien que, no es raro que cierre los ojos y me pierda en ese mundo que creo para mi mismo por un rato. Se siente tan bien que no puedo evitar dejarme ir, y es entonces que mi mente se pone a inventar y a recordar y a reflexionar. Se relaja tanto que trabaja mejor que nunca.

 A veces se me va la mano con el tiempo que paso debajo de la ducha y he tratado de remediarlo, sobre todo cuando tengo que despertarme temprano. Pero cuando tengo la oportunidad, como en esas mañanas casi tardes después de una noche de excesos, me quedo más tiempo del que seguramente es necesario y entro al mundo en el que más me siento cómodo. Yo creería que puedo estar, en ese extraño trance, unos cinco minutos debajo del agua, si no es que más. El tiempo pasa de una manera diferente cuando estás concentrado en algo y te sientes tan a gusto que no te cambiarías por nadie en el mundo.

 Cuando despierto de ese momento mágico, me siento mejor que nunca. Es como si en verdad el agua tuviera una propiedad especial que limpia mi conciencia, saca todo el mugre y se lo lleva lejos de mi. Claro que está solo en mi poder no contaminarme a mi mismo, pero tengo que admitir que no soy tan bueno en ese aspecto de la vida y por eso las duchas largas y confortables son para mí la solución perfecta para no morir de estrés. Me gusta sentir que tengo el poder de limpiarme a mi mismo cuando quiera y cómo quiera.

 Después es que de verdad empiezo a limpiarme a mi mismo, me refiero al físico. Por fin salgo del trance y tomo el jabón y hago lo que todos hacemos en la ducha. Ahí ya nada es diferente a lo que hacen millones de otros, tal vez incluso a la misma hora. En un mismo momento muchos nos unimos para entrar en ese ritual pero dudo que todos, ni siquiera que la mayoría, piensen en semejante acto tan común y corriente como algo tan espiritual e importante como me lo parece a mí. Al menos eso es lo que creo.

 Cuando termino con el jabón, casi siempre, cierro la llave de golpe. Lo hago así porque si lo pienso demasiado jamás saldría de allí. Es como interrumpir algo que sabes que no debes seguir porque tienes muchas otras cosas que hacer. Se siente feo, es verdad, pero creo que es la mejor manera. Mi cuenta del agua llegaría por las nubes y ni se diga la de la electricidad. Esa es la razón práctica. Pero la verdadera, la importante, es que he aprendido a guardar esos momentos como pequeñas joyas y he aprendido a manejarlos.

 Cuando cierro la llave, casi siempre me quedo allí un pequeño momento, pensando y mirando a mi alrededor. Me gusta pensar que todos nos sentimos igual cuando estamos sin ropa. Es un momento vulnerable pero que todos conocemos. No existe un solo ser humano que simplemente haya nacido vestido o que nunca se quite sus ropas. Incluso aquellos que viven en la calle, por una razón o por otra, se quitan alguna vez sus harapos para disfrutar algo de agua fresca, así sea para limpiarse la cara o las manos o refrescarse los pies.

 Todos somos iguales en ese momento después de ducharnos. Y eso siempre me ha parecido que es uno de esos grandes conectores de la humanidad. Claro que a la mayoría de seres humanos les parece que el estar desnudo es algo casi tan malo como moler a golpes a otra persona, pero de todas maneras es algo que disfruto pensar. Además, nunca me ha molestado en lo más mínimo estar desnudo. Es lo que soy y no va a cambiar de un momento a otro así que, ¿porqué tendría que preocuparme de lo que piensen los demás de mi físico? No tiene nada de sentido sentir vergüenza en ese momento. No le veo sentido.

 Cuando por fin salgo, me envuelvo con la toalla y miro la pantalla de mi celular, que casi siempre dejo a la mano por si acaso. Miro la hora y veo que he estado entre cuatro y diez minutos bajo el agua. Es lo normal en mi caso pero no sé si eso se repita en la vida de todos, supongo que tiene que ver con el poder adquisitivo y el nivel de culpa que tenga cada uno acerca del cambio climático. El caso es que salgo de la ducha un poco renovado, con menos toxinas en el cuerpo y en la mente. Me siento mejor entonces.

 En mi cuarto me tomo mi tiempo para ponerme la ropa. No me apuro y menos aún si se trata de unos de esos días en los que sé que no haré nada. Me paseo desnudo por la habitación eligiendo la ropa que vestiré y luego me echo en la cama y me distraigo un largo rato hasta que recuerdo que me estaba vistiendo y prosigo con la ropa interior, las medias y así hasta que solo me falte ponerme los zapatos. Siempre en el mismo orden, casi siempre de la misma manera. Esa rutina es una que nunca me ha molestado pues, ¿porqué lo haría?

 Con el agua habiendo relajado mis músculos, empiezo en varias cosas que debería hacer. Algunas veces escribo mis ideas, otras veces las guardo en compartimientos mentales que sé que podré acceder en el momento que yo quiera. Pueden ser ideas sobre un tema para escribir o para un video o para hacer en la vida en general. Pueden ser tonterías como volver a jugar un videojuego que no he volteado a mirar en años o algo tan importante como recordar pagar una cuenta especialmente importante.

 Ese es el momento en el que todo aflora, casi como después de una tormenta o de una erupción volcánica severa. Por eso creo que la ducha actúa como un calmante para la mente, que se inquieta y excita cuando desafías a la vida misma. Es una relación simbiótica que, y  creo en esto fervientemente, hay que conocer al menos una vez en la vida. Es importante saber cuales son nuestros limites y lo que estamos dispuestos a hacer con tal de conocernos a nosotros mismos como los seres humanos complejos que sabemos que somos.

 Cuando ya tengo los zapatos puestos y han pasado un par de horas desde el momento de la ducha, se empieza a sentir que los efectos se van poco a poco. Las ideas fluyen menos y las ganas de hacer algo, sea lo que sea, no son tan imponentes como antes. Es como si todo cayera en un sueño ligero.

 Sin embargo, la ducha no es la única cosa que podemos hacer en la vida para sentirnos libres. Hay muchas otras y creo que dependen de las personas, cada una con su personalidad individual particular.  Solo digo que el agua nos une sin lugar a dudas, y luego nosotros elegimos nuestro mejor camino.

Strong woman

   By then, she had become a professional. She knew every single trick to travel, no matter if it had to do with packing her suitcase or buying the best hygiene products for herself. She knew which airlines offered what, the amount of room she had on any plane and the time she had in every single flight to work, sleep and relax. You could say she was a little bit to rigid with her life but Christine would have answered that she was just very well prepared. And that’s why her bosses loved her.

 Not only she was very practical in her travelling life, she was also like that with work. She travelled around the country and to other parts of the world, helping companies with their problems with technology and innovation. Christine went everywhere to hold meetings and conferences to anyone interested about how a company could survive in the new digital era. She knew about every single new development and was very well versed in the finance world too.

 Some people saw her as a danger to their way of doing things, specifically those people that were just corrupt and had arranged the system to work for them instead of working for everyone. During her fifteen-year experience, she had been responsible for unmasking a very high number of corruption scandals on many different companies. No matter if they produced video games or handled supermarkets, there was always someone trying to make more than the rest.

 That possibly was why so many people hated her too. In her world, in her order of things, there was no such thing as personal interests. She couldn’t understand how someone could put themselves in front and leave everyone else behind. Granted, she was not the best to speak about group efforts as she never did them herself, but she knew the value of having a good team to make a company go to directions no one else had ever gone. She tried not only to make them all win money and be successful, but Christine also wanted them to have a heart.

 That made her enemies very angry and that’s why many companies that had once asked for her help, suddenly rejected her and even campaigned against her actively in order for her bosses to be tempted to fire her or something but that never happened. Not only because she was really good at her job, but also because they feared her. They knew that if she was so good, she must have had something on the company she worked. It was only natural that she did, to protect her own interests.

 But that was where they didn’t understand her. She didn’t have anything on anyone in the company. She had even checked on that. And it was because she believed a relationship based on trust was much better than one based in fear. So from her side, everything was just fine. From their side not so much, but she had decided long ago that she couldn’t be worried about things she had no real control over. There was no way she could convince them that she wasn’t going to turn on them one day.

 Real problems came the day her enemies, people that had robbed millions, sued her in court with allegations of her work being unethical and, also, for receiving money in order to help improve conditions in some companies and not in other. They said that she refused to help their companies because she was under orders not to let them have any part in the business. They were very specific in their statements and even presented evidence of every single thing they were claiming.

 Christine would have wanted to laugh and she did when she got home but certainly not in the courthouse, where everyone’s eyes were fixed on her. She tried not to make any telling expressions and only limited her words to denying what those men in suits were saying. She was very calm and one could even say she didn’t care much for having to loose time there when she could be doing something much more interesting. Her rivals even pointed that out but the judge seemed not to mind much.

The actual trial was set to begin two months later. She would have to keep working until then because she had many prior commitments. But her company had asked her to please hold any engagements until after the trial was done because they didn’t want any of their clients to feel they could lose not only money but also their prestige in the business world. Of course, she understood perfectly what they were asking of her. So the day before she went to trial, was the same day she finally stopped at home and realized how her life would change now.

 The trial was very well publicized because many people in the media had been bought by the owners of the companies that were suing her. So it was obvious what their position was. They wanted her to be turn to shreds by people too, which was very hypocritical as those same companies were the ones that robbed everyone of their savings and their hard won money.  She had some big lawyers on her side too but the ones in the other side were particularly vicious. So much so that, on the second day, they even dared to attack her personal life, which was preposterous.

 Her lawyer told her not to say anything about that and she didn’t but it was the first time she seemed out of control. She wasn’t happy, at all, that her enemy was so visibly desperate that they wanted to find a weak spot wherever they could see it. Their questions and allegations hovered around the fact that she was an unmarried adult woman that lived her life travelling around. They called her irresponsible and immoral, which was perfect for the always religious people in juries. There’s always a couple.

 The trial went on for weeks. Whenever she thought they had been discredited by her very well built case, they came again with claims of bribery and corruption. It was then when she really got tired and decided not only to do her own defense but also using their own tricks. She would go personal and to the facts they were attacking on her. She was very tired and she had never felt that way. Christine was a very strong person but know, for some reason, she was beginning to feel the weight of years of work.

 The first day, in which she defended herself, she attacked them head on with proof of their own corruption. She had the papers and the data, which she always kept on her records to bring them down. One by one, one by day, she destroyed their credibility in front of the judge. Of course, they came against her hard with more personal questions and other attacks but Christine was ready, she had prepared herself thoroughly for that occasion, so she had brought the big guns.

 Did they want to talk about hidden children, lovers, weird fetishes and many other things? Fine, she went there with proof. During her years as a woman in business she had also made a lot of good friends, friends with enough talents to actually uncover things about people that they would have never thought no one would ever know about. But those good friends, many of those owed a lot to Christine, came to help in her hour of need. They really did the best they could to help her win that damn case.

 The day she actually won, the papers suddenly went silent and she went back to work. She decided to work now for smaller companies in order to help them be bigger and better. Christine wanted no more juggernauts in the game. Instead, she wanted to help where she was really needed. And she knew that they would let her do that because now she was a big name. Now they knew who she was and what she could do: bring empires up or down to the ground. There was clearly no one better in the game and Christine knew it very, very well.

Acabo de despertar

   Acabo de despertar y lo primero que pensé fue: “Que excelente sueño”. Todo parecía tan bien hecho, todo era tan emocionante e interesante. Nada daba miedo ni parecía puesto allí porque sí. No sé cómo lo hizo mi cerebro. Tal vez vi algo antes de dormir que estimuló mi mente o tenía algo guardado en el fondo de mi cerebro que ayudó a la creación de lo que pude ver y sentir.

 Cuando me desperté estaba casi envuelto en mis sabanas, cosas que no pasa nunca. Un poco más y me enrollo en ellas como un cigarrillo. Personas de mi familia duermen así siempre. A mi no me pasa. Doy muchas vueltas, a un lado y a otro, pero siempre separado de las sábanas, como si yo mismo tuviera cuidado de no enredarme con ellas mientras estoy dormido. Es muy cómico o al menos así me lo parece a mí. Esta vez dormí la mitad de la noche, o eso creo, sin camiseta. Me desperté quién sabe a qué hora a ponérmela de nuevo, por el frío, y a taparme muy bien.

 Eso me gusta. Despertarme como si fuera un pequeño intermedio, estar semiconsciente y luego volver al sueño como si nada. No digo que eso sea exactamente lo que pasó pero lo sentí así y me gustó. Ahora mismo siento mucho frío y me pregunto cómo es que no me duele la garganta o algo así. Si me enfermo será culpa mía por creer que de la nada una de estas frías noches no va a ser tan fría como las demás. Me tienen un poco aburrido pero, qué se le va a hacer.

 El sueño no era nada espectacular y obviamente ya lo recuerdo todo. Creo que se trataba de alguna intriga del tipo misterioso. Alguien estaba tratando de ocultar algo y yo y alguien más tratábamos de descubrirlo todo. Parecía tan real, en serio que sí. Siempre sucede que me siento cómodo en los sueños y se ponen a cambiar tan rápido que no tengo tiempo de disfrutarlos al máximo. Puede que sean un tipo de analogía de la vida o algo así porque son muy efímeros.  ¿Será que dormí más hoy que otros días? Puede que eso haya ayudado en algo.

 Me encanta que todo parece tan personal, tan mío. En un momento camino por alguna playa de agua cristalina, pateando ligeramente el mar con los pies. Y me encanta. Y me doy cuenta que a veces me gusto más en los sueños pues me siento más valiente e incluso mejor parecido. Es una tontería, pero como puedes hacer lo que quieras en tu mente, creo que a veces mi subconsciente me da un regalito, como para que no me desanime. Después, y pasa seguido, estoy en algún edificio majestuoso, lleno de detalles que me gusta admirar pero a los que no me acerco por temor de hacer caer el fantástico castillo de naipes que construyo en mi mente. Es simplemente genial.

 Sí, lo sé. Me estoy echando flores a mi mismo. Al fin y al cabo soy yo el que hace esos sueños. Pero no se siente así y creo que es lo que cuenta. ¿Acaso no es lo máximo despertarse en la mañana y sentir que no solo estás descansado sino que también, por alguna razón, estás feliz? A mi eso me fascina y me pone de buen humor por un buen rato. No sé si todo el día pero si por algunas horas, antes de que la realidad me patee con su sus mortales piernas de karateca.

 En los sueños, otro personaje recurrente es el que me gusta llamar el conejo blanco, como el de Alicia en el país de las maravillas. Es ese personaje que está seguido ahí y que a veces no puedes ver bien o siempre parece tener la cara borrada o fuera de foco. Siempre es un misterio que la verdad es inútil porque al fin y al cabo es solo una creación de tu mente, puede que solo sea una copia de alguien que viste alguna vez en la calle o de algún amigo o de un compañero de algo.

 Pero creo que a veces está la esperanza de que, por algún medio fantástico y sobrenatural, el cerebro sea capaz de recibir, de vez en cuando, imágenes del futuro de cada persona, en este caso del mío. Que tal que ese conejo, o mejor dicho, ese hombre borroso sea el que en un futuro me va a hacer sentir lo que nunca he sentido por nadie. Que tal si mi mente ha recibido la imagen de alguna manera y ahora la guarda con recelo hasta de mi mismo, por miedo a que me emocione demasiado y quiero adelantarme a hecho que no han ocurrido.

 ¡Que loco! Lo de conejo también es porque ese personaje siempre entra y sale de mis sueños a su antojo. Cuando lo quiero ver no aparece. Es como esos personajes en las películas que ves al fondo de la escena y que parecen metidos en la trama y los ves luego de nuevo y otra vez y otra vez y entonces es difícil no imaginar que algo pasa con ello. Son ágiles para desaparecer y la mayoría de veces son solo un espejismo lejano que no dejan ni que les toques la mano ni dicen media palabra.

 Aunque hay otras veces que sí hablan, con voces que nunca podría explicar en voz alta. Hablo de ellos en plural porque no sé si es uno solo o son muchos, al fin que son muchas las veces entonces puede que no sea solo uno. ¡Que optimista soy! En fin. No solo sus voces sino lo que dicen me llega al alma. Me ponen nervioso, igual que cuando alguien que me gusta en la realidad se me acerca demasiado. Otras veces es una visión totalmente cercana, que me abraza y me besa y a la que me siento totalmente conectado. Por eso despertarme muchas veces es una tragedia, pues la conexión se pierde y ya no lo puedo ver ni sentir más. Y duele porque en la siguiente ocasión será diferente y ya no se sentirá igual.

  Hoy creo que no hubo conejo. O tal vez lo hubo pero supo mantenerse alejado de mi. Puede que mi cuerpo estuviese más ocupado lidiando con el frío exterior y con el misterio interior para ponerse a inventar más líos de los que puedo manejar. Me gusta cuando mi mente me deja caminar por ahí, entre jardines densos llenos de flores que nunca he visto o por el borde de otra playa, está cubierta de pasto mullido. A veces estoy descalzo, a veces desnudo y a veces vestido, no sé cual sea la diferencia entre las tres, que las activa. Pero no me interesa ponerme a preguntarme cada cosa que pasa porque creo que eso daña los sueños.

 Esta vez no me molestó tanto despertarme y eso que fue por alarma. Y pongo alarma porque o sino dormiría más y no tendría tiempo de escribir esto y si no escribo todo el tiempo a la misma hora, siento que el poco orden que tengo a mi alrededor se viene abajo y eso no lo puedo soportar. En mis sueños no me importa nada pero en la realidad algo me tiene que mover las entrañas, algo me tiene que hacer sentir que no todo se va a ir a la mierda y una de esas cosas que me mantiene sano son las alarmas y los horarios y el control sobre lo que pueda controlar.

 Parece un tanto psicótico, y puede que lo sea, pero me da igual. Si me sirve a mi, es lo que interesa. Ya en mis sueños puedo ser libre de verdad y dejar que todo vaya por todos lados. Puedo ser el centro de atención y sobre el que gire todo lo que tiene sentido en el mundo. En los sueños lo bonito es que tu eres su estrella principal y sin ti no hay nada. Incluso si se trata de una pesadilla, si no fuera porque estás allí, no habría manera de que fuese una pesadilla efectiva. Nadie nunca piensa en los sueños así y creo que vendría bien pues muchas personas creen que cuando duermen se someten a si mismos y no deberían pensar así, o sino fijo viene la pesadilla al ataque.

 Yo tengo algunas, a veces, y son frustrantes.  No me gusta despertarme a los quince minutos muerto del miedo y cubierto de sudor, a nadie le gusta. Pero hay que saber cómo evitarlo. No comer mucho, tratar de mantener la mente rodando y no dejar que cosas que en verdad no tienen tanta importancia te afecten el cerebro. Eso es lo más importante porque a veces nos volvemos un torbellino sin pies ni cabeza por líos sobre los que no tenemos control o que son de fácil solución. Hay que ser práctico, creo yo.

 Dormir, en todo caso, es uno de los placeres de la vida. Mucha gente dice que no duermen pues lo harán cuando mueran pero eso no es verdad porque cuando duermes estás vivo así que no es lo mismo ni de cerca. Además cuando sueñas es como si trabajaras con un gemelo en un proyecto muy especial y cuando despiertas podrías tener las claves para realizar ese proyecto u otro en la realidad. Además, los sueños son lugares de ocio increíbles, mejor que muchas discotecas.

 En todo caso, creo que amanecí contento. Y lo triste es que sé que no me va a durar mucho pero no importa. Nada está hecho para durar tanto tiempo, nada humano en todo caso. De pronto me quedaré en la cama algo más de tiempo o dormiré una pequeña siesta más tarde. Ya quiero soñar otra vez.