Players in the making

At about 10 in the morning I chanced upon the fact that a girlfriend was in town. In the same place that I was while visiting my parents. I made a call to her. We spoke and haven't stopped since. This hapenned about two months ago. From the sunnyseaside back to the cold plains and lakes I stood here waiting for coldness to transcend into my brains. I was looking for inspiration. I found it in the oddest of things. I found it in words pronounced well, I found it in heated oil, I found it in a clean room, I felt the inspiration looking up at me in a woman's teeth, I felt it smothering me in the elevators. I felt it while holding Frida's book, it came crawling into me while I lay in bed and then some. And while at that I came across poems, the ones that make you want to talk too, for the love of my word that I need you to know.

The friend instantly took reins of my life. She spelled out what I knew, she told me secrets which I had refused to accept. She made my denial into a reality. From then on 60 days of sheer bliss followed. Without a camera at my disposal I began to feel more than I thought I could. And then we began to spin tales in people we care for. Thoughts transgressed between hers and mine. About the audacity of the resilient spirit in women. The foolproof eyes that we hold that make us blind to the ordinary. We grilled each other for answers, for solutions, for varnish to paint away the walls that we build around the heart.

The soul-utions were plenty but they didn't fit us well. So we threw them away. We tiptoed into our worlds and drew the curtains. "Show's over people.", We said.

The games we play, the logistics of any situation, the feelings we intertwine in order to benefit from, are so cruel and so beautiful. The ability to call something daring and cowardly, stressful and relaxing, beautiful and ugly without the yet interfering, is my world. There happens to be no solution and that could be the beauty of the drama that I call life.