Today and once

Today and once

I have said a lot throw the days. Today I meditated and everything seem to indicate that I had said too much… I continued with the road, driving on, throw the streets that led me downtown. I was returning from zone 18, I don’t know, don’t remember very well why, maybe I had gone to work. That job that I had abandoned a few months ago.

Everything looked so real then…

I stop in front of the red street light. The one over at the intersection. This was a good stop, I remember that I used to turn the car off and find my book, yes, the book of the day, I read a lot then…

The light gave me enough time to find where I left off… read with out worry a few lines, forget them and be on my way. Usually this: “be on my way” meant… come home, have a homemade lunch and keep going. Everything ordered, mechanical, just like a child orders the newly learned numbers…

The next day, it was all the same, zone 18, where I unloaded the boxes. The boxes that made my shoes sink in the mud, why was there so much mud in this places. And again on the street light. I stop and turn the key to the off setting on the ignition, and then there was no sound… the windows were closed.

Then come home. A light homemade lunch, then on to zone 11, that desolated place. There was nobody on zone 11, everything seemed unpopulated, so much so that some times I tried to run away… where did I run to?

The next day, zone 18. And I looked around, the buildings, those dark buildings, but swarming with people, people so much a like one another. So much so that they had forgotten who they were, or I pretended not to remember them… here I did see once a man that promised heaven for your soul, and a woman that promised hell just the same.

Home, lunch, zone 11, then we went out for gas. It was always necessary to look for a gas station on these places. Once I ran out of money and had to stop… out of fear. Yes: Fear! Ahead nothing. Behind nothing. And the wind on the periférico made difficult to think clearly. The bridge making drawing itself in the distance. Maybe if I can use the incline on the periférico… yes, I´ll do that. But there is not enough momentum. Why did I stop?

Periférico, zone 18, lunch, zone 11, again periférico. A cycle… a total cycle that substituted the basic cycle, the one for life. So much so that the functions on the brain were getting used to it, and they come out, like that all at once and suddenly… that day I had to go to zone 18 and had to stop… “hey you, what are you doing here, today is Thursday” a moment of clarity and a stupid smile “today is Thursday… yes true, true.”

On the corner of the street, to my left, behind the street light, after a bright white color, underneath the marquee with the face of that woman… a dog.

The dog was afraid. Why was the dog afraid? I did see him coming, walking intentionally. I think, or better said: I thought that everything in this life was intentional, since birth… but that dog didn´t seem to know where it was headed, maybe he was lost too. It did escape this way, loosing itself. And it didn´t have anywhere to go. A home dog, maybe.

The breed… I don´t remember. It was just a dog… and I left the book over to my right. Yes, I had to examine this creature that seemed to be out of place. Between all those people that rushed out, rushed to get away from their homes. Those homes that seemed so dilapidated, so wiling to fall down on each other every second of the day.

“home” the word became so cold, the one that once seemed to be so good, so subtle, the symbol of peace and happiness… why… why was it so cold now… and I came to the conclusion that it must have been because I lacked the strength or word as a gentleman to protect it.

Maybe I was just confused, so vague of thought. The dog passes in front of another one of its kind and this one attacks it. I knew it would, every creature on this planet is vial. But nothing happened. The dog was still afraid, but he was afraid of nothing more than… the world. That’s it!. Fear of the world, not fear of another, damned mot with short hear and infectious skin. It looked to one side and then to the other. Undoubtedly it had never seen a car on it’s life.

Finally it got the nerve to cross the street and got hit by a passing car. And I did look at it, how it´s legs pointed to the sky in agony, corporeal agony. Dogs are not like humans, are they? They don´t have souls, right? Then it would mean that this was it for the dog… all squashed and bloody and that was it.

And Maria’s voice, the name that used to belong to my daughter, kept resonating inside my head: daddy where is my dog… daddy where is my dog…

And I can still listen to the scene… so clear that it was like painting with words… daddy where is my dog… he´s not here maria, he´s not here… and she kept asking…

She went out to look for him, out onto the street. And was ran over by a car… and I can still hear her… daddy where is my dog.

Now, everything is with out meaning. I don´t even know if I can finish righting this… over all that blood… over all those lost memories that weight that sinks deep with in me… so much that I can´t go on… and I won´t… ahead there is only the feeling of coldness. There is nothing more than coldness.

I am so cold. Daddy where is my dog… he´s not here… they killed him just like they killed you on the corner of zone 18.

Good bye.