I’ve managed to land on the new solid ground; no hurricane could sink this ship. It has successfully sailed through the labyrinths of different moving waves, and the flag I see dancing from the helm, which I directed, is painted with colors that I myself have created. Each newly discovered land is an opportunity to explore, to continue seeing and knowing myself. From here, I tie up the vessel, grab my surfboard, and am ready to ride the waves I want to experience. From here, from my being, let’s play!

I felt my body starting to sweat at the desk where I was sitting; I experienced a longing to be close to the opposite sex. So I wanted to go and move within your structure, look into your eyes, and immerse myself in your memories. I didn’t say anything specific about names trying to describe our closeness these days; a story in my head about you was enough to express my bodily energy. It’s curious how much importance can be given to external appearance when this is just an illusion, a changing cover that is only one of the many open doors. And with you, I didn’t want to open even one more; I stayed knocking on the main door of your entire house, it seems like there’s no one inside.

With the premise of turning off for a short time all forms, lights, shadows, and lights of my existence, I tried to capture you in a superficiality that would allow us to enter each other’s bodies, for a moment that would make me turn off all thought, all confusion, all loneliness, all fear, all anxiety, all despair, all uncertainty. I wanted to be able to see myself through your eyes and from there, know that everything will be fine. I am a human being in expression of what I am doing, whatever that means to be seen from the whole. I can easily see myself through you; I could see my beautiful breasts moving, feel the front and back parts of my body, my balance to be in a divine structure, and sense your own expression. But I couldn’t feel you.

I tried to search for you from different directions and in record time, like a horse being photographed in motion in frames per second, capturing a single photograph of its feet in the sky, as if flying. For a second, I saw you through your beautiful eyes, and you hid again. What am I trying to find here with you?

You don’t even know where you are.

I sleep close to you for the next few nights, caressing your precious hair the color of bright sun. You’re breathing close to my naked body, feeling at peace, feeling secure, letting yourself be seen only for seconds. My eyes widen, and I start to distance myself from you in closeness and in a shared space. I stand firm in what I want to experience and move away from your movement.

Where does the soul go when the body seems to continue living and functioning? Like a moving cartoon repeating dialogues and routines that construct a static, empty character. Like certain forms of survival, but even when it seems to have gone and been to many places, it doesn’t seem to reach any specific place. Playing a dissociative role of oneself, playing a role that builds attractive characteristics that attract a pattern in the same form, leading to nothing. Like extras being part of what others tell them how their life should be.

Athletic human body, eyes the color of the ocean, hair caressed by the sun, scent of luxury brands, strong arms, an independent seeker of his own dreams, restless hands, brutally controlled temper, impatient, an external seeker of addictive emotions, a focused bodily movement capable of lasting until dawn, practiced techniques, years of athletic endurance, dance steps in choreographed harmony, driven by attention and managing to calm down over the years. What’s next? Perhaps you didn’t think beyond just one move. Now, you also don’t know exactly where you are. What was the need for an invitation from a place without true intention, powerful energy wasted, and a superficial victory, approved in the eyes of spectators who are only that? The ego took on a life of its own in the expression of your adult body, and from there, you can’t see what is in front of your eyes, even though deep down your soul screams at full volume to take control of the expression outward again. I won’t stay sitting in your living room chair, trying to decipher you. I’m not interested in seeing someone who doesn’t see themselves. So, boldly, I say that I have to go. You get angry and say I’m cold. You don’t even know me!

You carry flowers of a pink hue that I like, your soul emerges and hides, you embrace parts of my body while sleeping, and you observe me without being able to comprehend any of the pieces. You distance yourself and then come close. What are you playing at?

I suppose that goddesses sometimes descend to have sex with mortals.

There’s nothing damaged here, just an observation and acceptance of reality, and a natural distancing from what one doesn’t want to be a part of.

You can’t pretend or fake when the truth is already known; you let one of your practical sides absorb you. I wish for you to return to yourself and from there, remember those days when I stood before you…

I am not willing to give up any of my parts and forms, to what I am today, was yesterday, and will be, and transform only to have proximity to another being who, deep down, feels empty. I will stay with those brief glimpses of your soul and try to remember you from there.

On the return flight with a sensation of death, trying to hold onto something, striving to return to myself, I find myself again in the looks out the window on the train back to the city. I smile because I know what I want, and that is beautiful. I will be able to see it from different directions, and he will open his doors because he is also seeking to open mine. For now, I will continue to open my own doors. But, thanks for the ride 😉

Now let’s get that out of my head; what seeks to be expressed in space where it materializes must be brought into reality. I had created it in my head before it happened, and that was my mistake. Living it for myself, something that involved you, without giving space for the observation of something new, is as if I wanted to be one step ahead of something that not only depended on me. I humbly learn my lesson, not to have expectations about movements where I am not the sole creator involved.

Expectation Part I

I am smiling, running towards your encounter in the corridors of Seattle city airport. You are with open arms, and I jump into your embrace; we hug and share our innocent first kiss. You bring beautiful flowers and an extra coat in case I’m cold. You open the door of your car, and for a second, we see each other for the first time beyond our bodies. Both souls meet and are excited to create memories together.

Reality Part I

I feel stressed. I’ve had a trip where the flight has been delayed for hours. I’ve traveled from Denver, where temperatures are more than 22 degrees below zero. I’ve had a fight with one of the airport security guards because she hasn’t accepted my ID to proceed to board the plane. I had to show that I am legally living in this country to continue. I get angry and confront her; I’ve told her that I don’t want to have any contact with her and that I need to speak to her supervisor. She laughs in my face and calls her supervisor. I talk to him and explain that I don’t understand why I need to show my green resident card when I have another perfectly valid ID to show. He looks at me and at her, exchanges words, and then addresses me, saying he agrees with me. I try to breathe deeply and continue to catch my flight, but I’m so angry that I stay close for a long while. Then finally, I proceed; I manage to calm down. I know nothing is personal, but it’s incredible how people from the same continent can try to stand in the way to hinder the transit of another Latin American.

After waiting for two hours on the plane for it to be de-iced for a safe journey, the flight finally takes off, and I’m excited to know that I will see you soon. I check my phone, and it’s dead. I manage to charge it for a few minutes after landing. I don’t know exactly where you are, and I start to wonder if this is a good idea. Then, I launch into the continuation of my life and the creation of new experiences. I locate you after wandering around the airport, exit through gate number 10, and see you in the distance, a handsome man from Denmark, saying my name. I hear you pronounce it; we can’t even communicate in our original languages, but we find each other.

You open the door of your car for me after helping me load my suitcase. I quickly tell you about my day, and you interrupt me to give me some beautiful flowers. I look into your eyes and stay there for a few seconds; you have beautiful eyes. We enter a reality now shared, but deep down, it feels like you are a complete stranger. I don’t know what I’m doing here, but there is faith in me.

But what am I saying? You’re not guilty of anything, just unnecessary expectations I had about something non-existent. So, an innocent move: let me recover from something you never were.

Written by Kafme