"Here's your change -five cents-"
"That's all right -it isn't- keep'em"
Five cents won't cheer me up, nor will they bring me down. I hope they cheer your day, I sincerelly do, 'cause five cents won't make it easier, nothing will, now that it comes to mind, only her.
And she's 2000 light years away, if I may quote a younguer, more -way more- talented Billie Joe Armstrong.
These downers bring me down, but no 'upners' will put me up again, it's kinda nice being this way, it's been a while... CAN I SAY? I'm sorry, but I don't want to be up, I tried though, sitting down actually helped. There's two things I miss right now, her and my guitar. Any guitar would do, but I think no other girl will.
Why did she stare? Both of them. It's been a day and a day and a half and I'm still puzzled. Did I stare first? I guess I did. But that look, 'save me'. I'm sorry, I'm already on to someone else, she's got my hands tied for the moment.
This Red Bull tastes like aspirinettes, god, I actually needed the treat. I don't know what got me down, really. I wish someone would seat without asking and ask me what I'm writing.
"Just thoughts, words that come to mind" -how clever, revealing yet misterious-
"thoughts about what?" She'd ask -it has to be a she, no he would work-
"Dunno, just thoughts, I'm feeling kinda down"
"Can I help?"
"You already did"
"You showed interest, that's a good thing I guess.
"I'm feeling kinda lonely" -That's it!-
"Why is that?"
"I miss my girlfriend"
"You have a girlfriend?" Fatal, she lost interest. Why is it always about sex in a way or the other?
"Yeah, back at home"
"Where's that?" -Come on! she's just being poite, she wants to leave-
"Far away, thankfully"
"Could you be more...?"
"It's kinda bittersweet, you know?"
"Where's your town?"
"Argentina, I hate it, but the one I love lives there..."
"You can leave if you like"
"Why would you say that? -She's not angry, just wierded out because I called her bluff-
"Dunno, just got the feeling you wanted to leave, it's all right, I don't mind"
"Oh -Now's the turning point. "I actually have to get on that train, but I'll stick arround if you like" or "I didn't. Why would you think that?- I actually have to get on that train, but I'll stick arround if you like, there's another one in 14 minutes"
"I don't mind if you want to leave, my day has already been made -bad-. But it's your call"
"I'll get the next one"
"So... what's up?"
"Not much, I just told you about everything there is to say"
"When is your train?"
"Dunno, when I want to leave I'll get it. I'll wait if I have to, I have a good book"
"What is it about?"
"A guy whose job is to make a teenage writer miserable so he could write better stuff. To get him inspired"
"It is actually"
"So, what about you? Have you got a name?"
"I'm a character, you invented me, so stop thinking I''m gonna turn out real or something"
"I guess I only needed a good listener"
"Well, happy to serve my purpose"
"So, what now?"
"You are gonna stop writing and get to your station"
"Oh, I guess I had it in mind"
"Yeah... Well, nice to meet you"
"Can't say the same" -giggles-
"Well, all of this... It's kinda lame"
"Yeah, I know"
"Can I call you back, I mean, use you some other time?"
"You probably won't"
"Sounds like me"
"Yeah, it does actually. Isn't it funny?"
"Well. See you"
Como dije en mi post anterior "esto lo escribi en ingles, en mi cuaderno de viajes en Irlanda, en un estacion de tren, la estacion Pearse Street, si alguien la conoce. El asunto es que me sentia bastante mal y pare en un negocio de comida y compre por impulso un Red Bull (De la cual todavia conservo la chapita como souvenir), de ahi el pequeno prologo, vendedora me dio el cambio, sali y solo comence a escribir, las palabras fuyeron solas. Creo que es la primera vez que lo releo y parece un poco insipido, de ahi el nombre del post, pero bueno, me parecio interesante." Este post es para los lectores interesados en como funciona una mente pseudo bilingue.
Como siempre las criticas, recomendaciones y comentarios son bienvenidos.
Aqui esta el link a la version en español: http://taringa.net/posts/arte/2911812/Un-escrito-insipido-sobre-la-soledad_.html