Worms

- I had a dream.

- So?

- She was in it...

- Still?

- I guess so...

- So?

- I don't know... We were at my parents place...

- Weird...

- I know... She was supposed to sleep there. In my brother's room. She was wearing her pajamas... He was there too... Hanging out with us... I guess? He asked me to help him with something... a presentation! I accepted... The following morning he was still there... So, I assumed they slept together...

- Did they?

- I don't know. Later that morning, we went on a bike ride with a bunch of people. She was riding her bike. I was riding my beloved one... We were left behind. We talked...

- So?

- She asked me to leave... She asked me to leave and let her... let her free... Only then she would be able to let other people in... She was crying... I felt it was real... I felt worms scratching my stomach... I wanted to do what she asked for... I wished it was real... I wished...

- What are you gonna do?

- What do you mean?

- I don't know...

- I'm gonna go home and write this down. Yes, that's what I'm gonna do... Before I forget... or shouldn't I?

Blood

- There's blood all over me!

- Jack...

- Damn it!

- Jack...

- What, bro? What do you want?

- He's dead...

- No way! I know he's dead, we killed him... Actually, you killed him, bro!

- Why do we do this, Jack?

- What the f*ck?

- Jack, why do we do this?

- Why? I don't know about you, but I just do it for a living. This feeds me, this feeds my wife, and this feeds my children!

- What about them, Jack?

- There's no them, bro, there's just business!

- One day, we'll be dead as well, and then, who will care about what we have done? What if they find out this wasn't the way? Why if we become just another mistake?

- Bro, they don't pay you for philosophizing, you don't even need to think, just act, act the way they ask you to. It's as easy as that, bro! And if you don't like it... Well, if you don't like it go back home and take a shit in my honor!

- Are you happy Jack?

- F*uck you! OK, bro? Will you?

Later

- I've been willing to ask you something.

- You... you better do it... do it soon... before I go... forever... forever and for good...

- Don't joke about that! Anyways, what did I wanna ask? Well, have you ever been in love?

- Oh... so that is... that's your question... yes... yes I have...

- So?

- So... what? I was in love... I was in love once... I was in love with falling... with falling in love... not with a person... but with the feeling... with the butterflies... the butterflies in my stomach...

- What do you mean?

- I mean... that... that's how it was... I didn't... didn't know back then... I know now...

- You never found someone, then?

- Yes... yes, I did... but it wasn't fair... fair for them... they were in love with me... I was in love... in love with falling in love with them... with them four... four times it happened... it happened to me...

- I'm sorry. That's kind of sad, isn't it?

- No... not anymore... that's not sad... it's just... just how it is... that's me... and one... one important lesson... a lesson I learned...

- I need to answer this one. One second!

- It's... it's OK...

- ... ... ...

- So?

- I have to go back to the office. I'll be back later.

- Go... I'll be here... I'm not planning... planning on going... anywhere...

- Do you need anything?

- No... I don't... they treat me well... here... specially this nurse... Isabel... you... you would like her... Tom...

- Later!

- Yes... later...

Tan

- He doesn't love me anymore. That's how it is, and I better start to accept it, asap...

- I'm sorry...

- I can't believe what he did... I wasn't ready for that...

- I'm sorry...

- I know that eventually I'll forgive him... I'll get over him... I'll move on, but, why?

- Don't worry... It'll be OK... Sooner than later... By the way, have you noticed that my tan is gone? I look more pale than usual, and that pisses me off. I don't know what to do!

The weight of words

- Come on, stop wondering around and help me.

- What did you order?

- A Spanish omelette. Are you helping me or what?

- OK, OK... Let's see... The weight of words. Well, let's see... So, I guess they might have a different weight according to who is telling them and who is listening to them... Then, the total weight might be something like the average of those two. Does that make sense?

- I don't know. What would the teller's weight depend on? I thought about honesty. How honest the words are. And maybe, motivation?

- Yes! That would make sense. Motivation scale might be either negative or positive, while honesty should be either 1 or 0.

- So?

- So, if those words aren't honest, their weight is always 0! If they are, they would weigh positive or negative depending on why the teller is telling them... But I don't know how to fit the whole listener's weight... That might be subject to interpretation that might as well depending on a bunch of shit I don't even wanna start thinking about now... Like what's the relationship between the teller and the listener... And I don't know either about the positive and negative motivations... According to whom? What would I love you weigh? And, why?

- We're closer, we're closer... We'll get this!

- There's your omelette, your beer and my soda. What time are you leaving tomorrow?

Grey Scale

- What do you think?

- About what?

- I don't know... About my doubts, maybe? Are you listening to me?

- Yes, I am... Look, if you really wanna know what I think...

- Yes...

- There's no such a thing as a gray scale in romantic love. It's either black or white. Different shades of gray are just excuses. Excuses people find to hide their fears of being lonely, not being socially accepted, not being a parent... or whatever other sick thing you can think of... And, my friend, your doubts are just that, gray...

- Why are you always so extremist?

- You know how I am. Don't wanna know? Don't ask! OK, now, clean this mess.

- Right.

Categories

- What about your thing?

- I'm just putting into practice what someone told me...

- Who?

- Someone.

- So?

- In the end, there are only three kinds of people. The ones who never did, the ones who once did, and the ones who more than once did...

- But...

- But, nothing! No matter two or two thousand... And, dude, this is neither good nor bad, it is just the way it is, and I have to live with it. It is as objective as the fact that her eyes are brown and I'm afraid what they might be seeing through mine...

- I don't get you...

- Neither do I... Are you up for a run?

- Sure! 10?

- Let's do it!

Since...

- Since when?

- No, please, don't do that...

- Since when? Don't do what? Tell me! Since when?

- Please...

- Please? Shut up pig and tell me! I hate you right now! Tell me!

- I don't know, it just happened... This is difficult for me...

- Oh, please... Don't give me that shit... You're just like those you keep saying you have nothing to do with... Just leave, now... Leave!

- Are we still having dinner at 8pm at Jane's?

- Don't even doubt it! And don't be late! Now, f* you!

- Later, honey!

- Later, babe!

Soccer

B: What do you mean?

A: Let's see... It is like this kid, OK? This kid that loves soccer... He wants to be a striker, right? And he tries over and over again... But he's just not a striker. This feeling of failure is growing and he's not able to get rid of it. Failure is no longer about his performance, it is now about himself. He still loves the game, but he's not able to enjoy it. Then one day, for whatever reason, he tries on as a goalie... And he's not bad!

B: Where are you going?

A: Just wait! He's not bad, right? And he ends being a goalie. And as a goalie he gets an attention he never got as a striker... Well, this kid still dreams about him as a striker scoring goals for his team... That doesn't mean he's not happy preventing the other teams from scoring them... He is, he really is...

B: Are you this kid?

A: Kind of, I am... The thing is that this kid will grow up and one day he'll stop playing soccer and will do something else for a living, because, how many of them turn pro? He'll probably study business, or some other useful shit like that... And get a job! A job as... I don't know, an accountant? He'll grow an imported-beer-cute-belly and play pseudo-soccer on weekends with his colleagues, while his wife, probably a lawyer, or a nurse, or something else... Anyways, till she is fed up with him complaining all night after each of these pseudo-games about being totally out of shape... Game over! Eventually he'll just watch it on a ginormous flat screen TV... He'll be pretty damn happy on his stylish couch, though... But he'll still dream about him scoring goals for his team... or even as a goalie stopping a penalty kick... He always will...

B: Dude, I really don't get you... Weren't we talking about that girl you broke up with? What about her?

A: Were we? About her...

B: Man, whatever... Another Guinness?

Tomates (de todos los colores)

En la escalera:
- ¿Sabes que Fernando le pone los cuernos a su mujer con una mulata? Lo bien que estábamos sin ellas...
- ...

En la oficina:
- ¿Sabes que Ernesto ha firmado el contrato a cambio de que hagan la vista gorda con lo de los impagos? Quizás sea momento de pedirle un favor también nosotros...
- ...

En la universidad:
- ¿Sabes que han alterado sus resultados con el objetivo de publicar antes que el grupo de París? Alguien de allí les puso al corriente de como iban...
- ...

Cruces Rojas

A diario me cruzo con un sinfín de personas, en algunas me fijo, en otras no. Efímeros contactos que nunca volverán y que si lo hacen, serán de nuevo, muy probablemente, efímeros contactos. ¿Cuántos caminos dejamos de recorrer? ¿Cuánta gente de conocer? ¿Cuántos aciertos? ¿Cuántos errores? Cada vez que la veo pienso en esto y la dejo marchar. Sonrío. Soy feliz. Mi caducidad me hace dichoso y justifica mi error... O mi acierto... Y recuerdo que hace tiempo ya escribí sobre esto... Y no entiendo a los que me dicen lo que hay que hacer. Juguemos...

Complemento Circunstancial

Después de mucho tiempo volvieron a encontrarse. Él se encontró con ella, ella se ancontró con él. Ambos se encontraron con cuanto habían dicho y dejado de decir, con el brillo de sus ojos. Pero aquello no era real, pronto pasaría y ambos volverían a una realidad de la que el otro ya no formaba parte.

¿No era real?