I Wish I Could Eat Your Cancer When You Turn Black

I lost my mind, when I met you. All I wanted was to scream, and say "Is she really your sister?" 

Your brother played the drums and we wanted to make a band. I played the guitar. He liked Nirvana as much as I did, even though he didn't understand the lyrics 'cause he didn't speak english. We loved so much garage punk.

We started playing Aneurysm, and I yelled terribly. I was ashamed. Then we played Sliver and Sappy, and I just tried to whisper the lyrics. It was our first rehearsal. Despite my voice, the songs didn't sound bad at all. We even didn't have a name. The bass guitarist suggested "Chaos In Highschool", or something like that. He was your boyfriend, or I thought so. Maybe your brother told me so, to keep me away from you. Nevertheless, you looked at him all the time. I was kinda jealous. 

You were there, listening. Just you. Sometimes our gazes crossed thru the room. Maybe you laughed. I kinda wanted to tell you how much I liked you, for the very first moment I saw you. You were beautiful and your hair was painted in purple and pink sparkles. You dressed like a Babes In Toyland member.

"Are you really left-handed?", you asked me in a brief pause. Your boyfriend had gone to the bathroom. As we were drinking alcohol from the beginning of the rehearsal, at that point I was kinda drunk. 

via GIPHY

"Oh, yes... I am really left-handed... Do you know that Kurt Cobain and Jimi Hendrix, were straight-handed? Do you know that Billy Corgan is left-handed even though he plays a straight-handed guitar?", I told you, desperately. 

I had an awful left-handed Ibañez guitar. It was pale blue. 

Your boyfriend came back, and we started to play Heart-shaped Box. He decided to sing, and he was amazing. You stared at him, with devotion.

I never returned to practise. I was afraid of getting in the middle of a fight for you, because it was obvious that I would fell in love with you, sooner or later.  Also, I was a bad guitarist and I never could compete with your boyfriend. 

I was an idiot. 

Heart-shaped Box

Well You Know I Nearly Broke Down And Cried

She was younger than me, and I met her in a garage punk concert. I was having a smoke when she appeared out of nowhere and asked me for a cigarette lighter. Her scent drove me wild. Her eyes gleamed like a crazy star in the darkness of El Foro Alicia. 

We started to talk a few minutes later, when I wanted to have another smoke and I was convinced that she had lost my cigarette lighter. She denied it, and I focused on her lips. They looked so fleshy. A silly question crossed my mind: What if I kiss her?

I told her that I found her pretty, and that she smelled like a strange plant. She asked what kind of plant, and I just said something like a water lily. She smiled. At the time, I was a little bit drunk. Do not know why, but I imagined that we could end up kissing. 

Silencios Incómodos were about to perform that night, and I told her that I knew their new album. They were releasing it that night and they will perform it that night. I really knew it, since my brother was friend of the guys of the band, but she thought I just wanted to impress her. She told me her favorite band was Black Sabbath, and started to whisper Iron Man in my ear.

We kissed as the band played Detrás De La Tormenta, my favorite song of the album. Her lips were soft and I thought she had and expertise in kissing. Maybe I was too drunk. 

Suddenly, her dad called her on the cell phone. He was waiting for her to take her home. She said "Good Bye" and gave me her cell phone number, in case I wanted to call her someday.  Never thought I would, but I did it a few days later. 

We went out several times. Each time I liked her more and more, but I also felt more and more guilty. It was really stupid, but I hated it to be older than her. She said she didn't care. Eventually, she got tired. 

I'm listening Abbey Road, even though I don't like The Beatles at all, and I can't stop thinking of her. I miss her a lot. 

We Love In Vain, Narcissistic And So Shallow

I hate some egocentric people. Some of them behave as if they were closer to be a God than to be a human. The worst part is that they think you should please them all the time.  

I met once a guy of this kind, in a literature workshop. We were involved in an underground magazine, and we all wanted to publish our writings on it. We were talking about deadlines to send our work to the editor of the magazine, so he could manage the writings in order to publish, monthly, as much as possible of our work. We were almost 20 young writers. Some of us wrote tales, poems or literature essays. We were as enthusiastic as a young writer can be. Another part of the writers, were horribly narcissistic, like this teenager. None of us would receive any penny for the writings, it was all about fun, but he immediately asked for money, because he considered that his poems were at the level of Rimbauds'. 

He also complained about the deadlines, because he considered himself an authentic artist, and so he was not able to work under pressure. He said that his inspiration was so fragile and so fickle. I just found him boring, arrogant and stupid. He couldn't even distinguish Ezra Pound from Edgar Allan Poe.

I just hate this kind of guys. Sadly, many musicians I know behave like that, too. I have this terrible idea of playing in a garage punk band. I have looked for drummers and bass players, because I play guitar and I just like power trios, even though I want to have a band like Sonic Youth. 

At the beginning, when I find out some guys to play with, they tend to be enthusiastic. Nevertheless, gradually they simply expect me to forget them, or to pay them to play with me. They skip rehearsals and never answer my messages nor my calls. They make me feel like an amnesiac old dude or a retarded booze addict. Obviously, it's not their duty to like my songs, but  I'd really appreciate if they told me that they don't want to be part of my band.

via GIPHY

Normally, I try to avoid this kind of guys, but, sooner or later, I have to tolerate them. Like this egocentric PhD student I'm going to write about. It was my first time in the biggest annual meeting for Neurosciences, and I had to share a room with him. As soon as we arrived to Chicago, we looked for the Hilton that was assigned to us. We walked  late at night thru the cold alleys and streets around Michigan Avenue. Suddenly, several homeless stopped me and asked me for money. Even though he had been before in situations like that, and so he knew how to deal with homeless, he didn't warn me about them. I was so scared. Thought homeless were about to assault me, or to shot me, or to slash me, for nothing. 

When I looked for him, he just had disappeared. I had to walk faster, running away from the homeless, and finally, scared to hell and exhausted, I found him at the Hilton. He was in the lobby, in complete iddleness, playing with his smartphone. With some sort of a sarcastic tune, he said: "Homeless are so annoying!"

In the room, he choose the best for him. He occupied the bathroom for hours and put his bags and things all over the room. I just could put my stuff in the small bed that he generously gave me. I had nausea, and I was starving, so I didn't want to discuss about his behavior. The worst of all, was that even though he said that he had quit smoking, he started to ask me for cigarettes. When the cigarettes went out, he said to me: "We have to make an effort to not smoke a lot and to save some money to buy another pack of cigarettes". What a jerk off!

At the annual meeting, he just wanted to seduce women. Of course, he failed all the time. He was not interested in science at all, he just wanted to look like a neuroscientist. 

Now, he has a better job than he deserves, and a better health than me. I quit smoking 18 months ago, and he just keeps stealing cigarettes from anyone. Hope he is not playing in a garage punk band nor that he is finished a novel before I do.