Sunday, September 14, 2008

Letter to Pati

2am...
Not to worry though I will sleep...


Freud is an amazing man that I have begun to boyishly unravel. I am reading a book about him, and every page I flip seems to have the same effect as does opening a fabulous gift on Christmas.

For instance this is what he had to say on poverty:

"Our whole conduct of life presupposes that we shall be sheltered from the direst poverty...
The poor, the common people could not exist without their thick skin and their easygoing ways. Why should they feel their desires intensely when all the afflictions nature and society have in store are directed at those they love."

........

Well I must apologize for not responding to your lovely letter on Eduardo Galeano. At first glace it didn't strike me as fascinating.
Let me reword,
The poetic rhythm and the pairing of the words was nothing short of brilliant. The reason I was not taken by it was due to the content. The heart (in matters of love) for me is a place filled with frustration. Perhaps this is why Freud, a man of mind and intellect, is so fascinating to me right now. Taken this to account, I read it once more...

("Hoy llueve mucho y pareciera que estan lavando el mundo .
Mi vecino de al lado mira la lluvia y piensa escribir una carta de amor , una carta de amor a la mujer que vive con el , y le cocina y le lava la ropa y hace el amor con el y se parece a su sombra . Mi vecino nunca le dice palabras de amor , entra a la casa por la ventana y no por la puerta . Por una puerta se entra a muchos sitios , al trabajo , al cuartel , a la carcel ,a todos los edificios del mundo, pero no al mundo , ni a una mujer , ni al alma, es decir , a ese cajon o nave o lluvia que llamamos asi , como hoy que llueve mucho y me cuesta escribir la palabra amor por que el amor es una cosa y la palabra amor es otra cosa y solo el alma sabe donde se encuentran y como y cuando , pero el alma que puede explicar ? Por eso mi vecino tiene tormentas en la boca palabras que naufragan , palabras que no saben que hay sol por que nacen y mueren en la misma noche que amo y dejan cartas en el pensamiento que el nunca escribira , como el silencio que hay entre dos rosas , o como yo que escribo para volver a mi vecino que mira la lluvia , a la lluvia , a mi corazon desterrado "
)

The mere thought of love makes me nauseous. An effect in which I had non while reading this particular piece. In fact, it only supported my theory on the subject matter. We are so scared to love because a broken heart feels so much worse. The closest I can compare it to is to being drunk. We hate being drunk the very next day when the effect of the alcohol wears and you are left feeling ten times worse. This is why the "vecino" has such a hard time describing what love truly is. Once you define something it is because you have identified it. Once identified, then it can shake the core of you.

That is all for tonight. I really didn't mean to write so much.

Love,
Camilo

Monday, September 8, 2008

A moment of self analysis

Three women decide to leave me for another man.
Two of which decide to never speak to me again,
and one of which is actually my mother.
If I'm not as clever,
or as equipped with the capacity to be so self analytical,
then perhaps I would be in deep shit.
Although I do believe I am experiencing a momentary depressive state of mind,
I have no doubt in my mind that I will pull through.
So three very valuable women leave and what is left,
but a very valuable life lesson.
Let it be a life lesson,
and not a way of life.

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Isabel

Oh Isabel,
Never think that you are being over looked. The one that watches sees you my dear. People come and go and some never return, but the ones that stay seem to never go away. I tell you the truth my dearest, hang on and hear the things that you should hear and shut your eyes to the things that will forever blind you. You stand there thinking that perhaps this is the end, but I tell you to hang on. Soon someone will arrive and take you to places you thought you would never see alive. Hope is but a thin string we use to tie down an angry elephant with. But stand tall my dear friend, for the string will hold. The seeds that you sow will soon be the fruit that will feed your life forever and ever. So even though you might feel neglected, just know that someday you will triumph, for your spirit in nothing short of electric.
Sometimes when I look into your eyes I see nothing, for you wish to show nothing. Soon you will learn that hiding is no fun when no one is trying to find you. So I tell you my dear friend, look to see and hear to listen. Never eat without tasting, never grab without touching, and never take without asking. Be cautious in matters of love, for humanity loves too much and gives too little. The people you trust should be trusted and never doubted. The people you love should be loved and never hated. Never take anything for granted, for it all can be taken away as quickly as it was given. Life is a precious thing my dear, live it and love it. What you learn here will never be forgotten in this life and the next.

So it shall be so and forever will be
Says the mere mammal