Seems To Me Time Was, Little Bit As Complicated Then

«Yes, it's him», she said. And she was sitting in her chair, in front of her computer, in the office that both of you shared at that time, a thousand years ago, before the storm, before the earthquake, before the apocalypse..., when you were ill and tired of dealing with your health issues. 

She looked at you, and you listened up and you thought what kind of life was her life, and what kind of life was your life. You really hated your life. Everyday was an inner war for you. And she used to be happy, her husband was still alive and they were a pretty happy couple, and she was smart, strong and absolutely amazing at his job.

And her eyes were like almonds and her face was white and pink, and her hair was long and it had a strange shiny color, between black and brown. You sort of had a crush on her. While she spoke –«Yes, it's him»–, you couldn't stop feeling attracted to her lips, and you wanted to kiss them and to devour her tongue, and you desired to touch her face and her hair, and to hold her hands –to loss your mind in the brief glimpse of her nails–, and to look at her almond eyes forever.

She referred to another researcher and one of the undergrads of this researcher. Three or four antibodies had been lost and the lab had run out of budget. 

Suddenly, she shut up. This researcher entered the office. And it was awkward. 

And this happened a thousand years ago, but you remember it right now 'cause she appeared out of nowhere in your dream. You were inside a van, someone drove you up to an academic event. Apparently, both of you had been invited to give a conference. You didn't know what the hell would you speak about, but you didn't care.

She had a guitar and she said that she admired Izzy Stradlin, and you started to teach her how to play “Seems To Me”, her guitar was not a left-handed guitar, so it was not easy for you.

Then she said that Izzy was the brain of Guns N' Roses, and you felt so impressed. You agreed with her, and you felt so happy. At last, both of you had something in common!

And it is Saturday, and it's Izzy's birthday and it's also the 29th anniversary of the discovery of Kurt Cobain's corpse in the Green House of his mansion in Lake Washington, and you don't know why did she appear in your dream. And you write about it. 

And you are a moron and you wait for her to read what you just wrote in this blog.

 

Since I was born I started to decay

Dunno why but I still remember when you called me up on the telephone last afternoon, I needed to ask you a favor, and I dunno why but I also still remember what I just dreamed a couple of hours ago... Maybe I'm just thrilled 'cause I got in touch with you. 

Whatever. 

I remember how that dream was so scary and how I was so brokenhearted. 

Vividly.

In my dream, this guy –with whom I should have a published paper in Nature Neuroscience– appeared out of nowhere. We were walking across empty and cold German streets, and then we got into a supermarket and then we left the supermarket and then we got into an old building, and so on, and then the dream became some sort of a Matryoshka-like story, like those of Christopher Nolan's, but this is not relevant. 

The most relevant thing is that you... You were spying on me.

I can't explain just why I knew it, but I knew it. 

I felt your presence behind my steps, like a ghost, like a shadow, like the wind.

Then, in a moment, I saw your reflection in a window. It was electrifying. I got shocked. Freezed. Dumbfounded.

I must have been sixteen years old, or so. My own reflection was younger, and I felt so weak and had no confidence in myself. As always happened when I was sixteen. 

What's all this fuzz about...? Are we running...? 

Are we hiding...?

I Preferred Her To Any Other Marijuana

I'm working in this nightmare lab, again, and I dunno why still I'm frightened and attached to it. I hear voices from my ex advisor's office. It seems he's interviewing someone and having a good time. He laughs, and I think “what's goin' on? 90% of the time, from Monday to Friday, I'm the only one in the lab, he always seems unsatisfied with my work, I have published four papers as first author, I never skip none of the seminars in the lab... and he doesn't even says Hi when I say Hi”

Suddenly I don't give a f$ck and I leave the lab. I'm determined to never come back.

Then I sense someone walks behind me. Kinda see her face and her body. 

It all happens as in a movie. 

She's NN, a woman whom I felt attracted to when we were in elementary school, a thousand years ago. Obviously, she's now a woman, not a girl. 

She's all dressed in black and she kinda wants to make eye contact with me, so, at some point, it is impossible to get rid off her eyes, and I look at her, directly to the eyes. She smiles. Her lips are enormous. I cannot stop thinking about a paragraph of The naked ape, one in which Lorenz states a relationship between the size of the lips and the size of the vagina. And it is somehow scary.

Suddenly we're having some sort of picnic, between Las Islas and El Paseo de las Facultades. It is a sunny afternoon. She's having tamales. They look warm and nauseating. She says something about tamales and the way they seem a warm vagina. As she says 'vagina', she emphasizes 'vagina' and gives me a strange look. Again, she smiles.

I tell her I don't like tamales, that I eat them once in a year, and I'm about to tell her that my family has a weird tradition, that they have bought tamales in each each funeral I can think of, when she kisses me.

Her saliva is magnetic, strong and hypnotic. I feel like a bee attracted to a beeswax. 

Then I kiss her and I do it remembering the boy I was in elementary school, the one who believed she was the most beautiful girl in the world. Somehow I am on top of her and I can see her face in a very detailed way. Her eyebrows are weird. It seems she just came out from the beauty salon. And, again, I look at her lips and think about what Konrad Lorenz said about lips and vaginas in his book.

NN smiles again and I feel weak and strong and happy and sad, all at the same time, and I want to get laid with her, and I tell her, and she says “Great! Let's do it!”

Then I wake up.