Thursday, January 26, 2006

Wasted Youth

Little by little every detail, every word said and every word not said confirms the fact that although true love never dies, love is not always a synonym of happiness. When there is a trade-off that is gruesomely big, even the best of intentions and the greatest of faiths cannot mend lives… Cruel actions remain in the background as gruesome reminders of a past imperfect that haunts each time you look back, and the haunting can have many consequences… among them, killing love. I wish there was a way to simply stop rewinding the movie, I wish there was a way to simply put a blank tape and start filming the New Adventures… But how? So much mistrust, so much hate, so much desire for retribution, so much change… I cannot film a new movie on a blank tape. I am a firm believer that the good and the bad shapes everything, and that it all should weave a web of understanding and support and strength. When the past cannot be weaved into the present so a future can be the only outcome something is completely wrong.

I believed in true love. For my whole life I chased that ghost mindlessly because in my whole life FEELINGS have been more important than the mind. I always thought that feelings were always right because they came straight from the heart… because they could not be tainted with thoughts of lust, money or fame… I view feelings as the shapeless core that each being had, that core that made everyone do what is right even against the odds… All in all, following feelings landed me in an eerie Neverland where the Lost Children are cannibals and Captain Hook is a godmother. I have been wrong. I hate coming to this realization, I am never wrong… Well… Here is when I grow old and wrinkles begin to appear in my face, even if grey hairs refuse to crown me yet. I was wrong. I have been wrong my whole life. I have been wrong about all the things I believed in, about all the things I wrote about, about all the ones I have loved beyond logical explanation. Feelings are never to be trusted, because it leads toward a path that only you can understand yourself… It leads to misunderstanding, it leads to forsakenness. No one accepts actions from someone who felt was doing something right. No one actually digs that a strong motive can come from simply feeling you can make a change… Feelings are ethereal after all… unmeasurable… intangible… illogical. Only madness and loss can come out of it. And so, here I am.

I have truth. Many truths. Yes, I may have lied some lies, white lies mind you… but 95% of my words and actions have been fueled by truth. I have tried my best to keep to my lovely code of honor and ethics so at least I die at peace with myself. It is a pity that people do not value friendship as the times passed… But oh, it is so easy to take things for granted… It is so easy to simply live on facing and accepting new things and forgetting and neglecting the old, the used, the now good-for-nothing… The whole process is sad in itself… In order to create new acquaintances you have to either talk about sex, or simply have sex, or agree to talk and have sex. Somehow, the new local ghetto has this policy of sex for everything… The word friend implies an knowing each other so well as to know that much in person. There is no space anymore for a relationship between a man and a woman that is sexless. People always imply an affair no matter how evident it is that there is none. Television bombards people with these images of sultry lifestyles of the lame and famous… In order to be cool you must have 50 orgasms a day with more than a dozen men, or simply show all your ass-ets in the camera while leaving nothing to the imagination, or simply being nasty and ill-tongued. Vulgarity and profanity are a must to be cool in this local culture. If you have any conscience, you are out, passé, an outcast… And sincerely, I love being an outcast.

I could be a social butterfly. I started the year that way at work, just trying it out for one week. Yes, it’s lovely in the surface. But at day 7 I simply went back to closing my door. I feel no joy in listening to chit-chat about La Comay, about the political status, about babies, about cooking, about how much I am missing by not having a child, about manicures and pedicures, about boys, about the latest position for making love… I am deeply sorry, ladies and gentlemen… I am NOT a girly girl. I am NOT a bimbo. I have a brain. Bear with me. I am allergic to all the bullshit that comes from your pea-brains and that are somehow expelled verbally for the horror of my alien ears. If I let you, you will all cluster around me, and then mummify me so I become a brainless clone that emulates all that you are! No! So, my door is closed to idiocy and mundane affairs. I am definitively being punished for an intergalactic crime I committed in a galaxy far away… This is the wrong culture for me, the wrong time period, the wrong era… I should’ve been born in Egypt at the time when women were valued for their brains (that was Cleopatra’s real beauty, history has it she was not physically beautiful as the movies portrait). Here, all around me, is a complete harassment in every way, and one has to be candid and polite so things don’t get out of hand. And if that is work, talk about people who want to get to know you…

Someone mentioned to me last night that I should try to find someone with whom I have no past and work from a clean canvas. The idea is perfect, ecstatic… The problem is… Location, location, location. I don’t see where could I meet such a person here in Puerto Rico, the land of ignorance and loss. Men approach women because of their physical attributes, because of what they have and how easy they are. They are not looking for a real commitment, just a night of fiery passion. Women who are bi usually wants threesomes or simply the freedom to go to bed with whoever/whenever. Lesbians seem to view their preference as an open invitation among women 24/7. Men and women invite pornography, actually applaud it. They need a movie to get hot, drugs to get high and hot, and any space available to makeout. There is no courting, there is no deep need of knowing each other, there is no sweeping off your feet… but plenty of sweeping between them… It’s a sad thing… And I am completely against that trend. I want respect, and that is not even in the list of what the menu offers. I want truth, honor, faith… Dream on.

Knowing people for relationships is a simply impossible task. Knowing people to be a friend is not as simple as it seems, because if there is a married couple either the man gets interested, or the woman gets jealous, or they want a 3some with you. If you get single friends then the single talk gets red-hotted with distasteful conversations and insinuations because everyone assumes you are out to get some. If you try being nice it is misunderstood as an invitation for a night of sultry passion. It all sucks. The only people who remain your friends, honestly, are the ones you grew up with, or that you met while studying. After a certain age, all the people that navigate around you just wants a piece of you. That is what I have learned in my adventures through Hell. Everyone wants something. You can be the bitchiest bitch, and still all that matters is if you are fucking material or not. So… So much for a blank canvas…

Who I am without my feelings to guide my actions? That’s a good one… Everyone has me so figured out as the impulsive goody-doer that screws up in the name of love… Seems I have no credibility thanks to my changing of heart/mind, seems I have no real knowledge of what I want because I am like a chameleon in matters of wants/needs. I’ve always been an open book, and lovers know I have nothing to hide… And my worst mistake is… I hide nothing. And so everything is revealed, and me and my naïve nature believes that it is good and reality states that it is not so good… In a world of deceit, of power struggles, of lost morals, of selfishness… What can someone like me look for? What can someone like me find? Not only dreams do not come true, true love is the greatest fantasy of all, and the games feelings play leave you as a damned fool… Damned. Forsaken. Torned.

“If I ever loose my faith in you
There’ll be nothing left for me to do”

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