Maps

lula avila

The map to your apartment.

The map back to mine.

The map of your body.

 

The map of the city we live in (always changing)

The distance between your place and mine.

The words you speak and how i always cut them up or glue them as i wish.

 

There are maps everywhere if you really look.

 

The map of your warm breath on cold mornings.

The map of your hands, and how you never know what to do with them.

 

And i know one day you and i will be gone and all these roads will stop working, they’ll end with us.

But right now all the maps of my life are leading to you.

Even the ones with no way out.

 

“Where do you want to go?” you ask.

As if i wasn’t already there.

As if you weren’t the place i had been looking for all my life.

Daniel, population 1

facebook_-1327823550

Daniel takes long walks.

One time he crossed Buenos Aires on one day.

He walks for hours. Because he likes to. It’s also good for him, good for his body, good for his mind.

Isn’t it? Of course it is!

He also talks to himself.

He asks questions and then answers them.

Sometimes he’s funny and he makes himself laugh outloud.

Haha.

Daniel lives alone, and eats alone, and walks alone.

But it’s just because it’s his choice.

Isn’t it?

Well, of course it is!

He makes all his choices.

He also doesn’t trust people much.

He was betrayed when he was younger, and he never forgot.

Girls smell nice and they’re okay, but sometimes they have long nails that could tear his life apart.

And he’s been working years on creating this world for one.

Can’t take that risk.

Girls are okay, he keeps them close, but not too close.

They can walk along with him as long as they stay a few meters away.

As long as they don’t touch him.

They can sleep on his bed as long as they stay on their side.

Have breakfast on his kitchen, as long as they don’t keep their organic shit on his fridge.

And feminine hygiene thingies are out of the question. No. NOPE.

When he’s not walking or dating he’s overworking.

He just finished a big project, he buys a good wine.

Congratulates himself.

He’s great

Isn’t he? Of course he is!

He drinks the whole bottle, alone.

This is a good life, right? Of course! He’s the best! look around, look at all the nice things he has on his flat.

He’s half drunk and he feels good.

He pats his own shoulder.

He wonders if that is the feeling that people with friends get.

But that he can’t answer.

The problem with worlds for one is that they end up being spheres so small that no matter which way you go, or how much you walk, you always end up at the same place.

And with the same person.

He needs another bottle of wine.

Doesn’t he?

Yes, he does…

Lucas is a surgeon, it came with his last name.

lula avila

Lucas is a surgeon because his brothers are surgeons, because his dad was a surgeon, because his grandfather was a doctor too.

He simply took the scalpel after he learned to walk, because it was the next step, the 7 after 6.

Lucas is a doctor because it was on his birth certificate that he would be one. Nevermind his nature is to discover things, not cut them.

Like a lot of things that our parents think would be right for us (like long, silly middle names that end up not suiting us) maybe Lucas should have left that heirdom forgotten. Maybe someone should have stopped him at the middle of the road and showed him there were crossroads, and asked him if he was aware his path only had one outcome, and if he really wanted it.

But why take a bus when your family already owns a plane?

Anyway the past can’t enter the OR, and neither can’t regrets when you have 3 surgeries on one night. So Lucas doesn’t waste time with “what if’s” and creates in the hospital the world he left outside.

All this pieces of lives he never lived come to him while he is operating. Parts of old songs, pieces of girls: a pair of dark brown eyes, a pink lipped smile, small hands with a blue ring. He sees himself in places he has never even been, a part of a London, a fragment of a building, half of a home, foreign accents, his unborn kids with no names. All is portions, because this thoughts have never been completed, because he has never given himself the time to wonder what he really wants.

Because why wonder, this was the best option, right?

Right?

And he stiches up the person infront of him, making it whole again.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s a doctor and he’s the best at it.

After all he cuts up his dreams every morning, then anesthetizes himself and gets out of bed to make his coffe, as if he were whole too.

The snake story.

IMG_20140831_161220

“I never meant for this to happen”

The snake justifies to the mouse right before she eats him.

“I was having a nice nap, just hidding in my tree. Not dreaming about death or food, not thinking about killing anything. But you woke me up by tripping over me. I opened my eyes and you were right there and well, i need to eat. I’m not bad or anything, you see, i never meant for this to happen”

“Nothing personal” The snake justifies to the mouse, the spider to the fly, humans to other humans, friends to friends; right before they finish them.

Pools and swimmers

IMG_0078

Sometimes a pool is full of water and you’re still afraid to jump.

And sometimes there is no water in the pool, but you have your mind made up so you jump anyway, trusting that somehow, from somewhere, water will fill it as you fall.

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 2,430 other followers

Follow No, wait, it's not my story, it's theirs.. on WordPress.com

Visitors

  • 13,630 have been here, thank you!

Follow me on Twitter

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 2,430 other followers

%d bloggers like this: