swimming lessons

Dannie wrote a beautiful review of Biutiful. I can`t help crying while reading it. I cried again a bit later when I realised someone I knew had died. Then I cried again for the sake of crying.

Been indifferent for so long. I just don`t care and the thought is devastating. It`s good to care for things and people every now and again. Try listening to Adele`s songs and wathching them at the same time. You will cry, I promise. But I`m indifferent to my own life, I cannot empathise with it. The crucial skill of being compassionate must start somewhere deep inside where you actually feel for yourself. The goddamned passion is missing.

Passion makes your guts squirm. It`s beautiful. When passion takes over, my lungs become planets. Two moons, he swims in there. Right now he`s drowining.

credits: Steve Hanks

a nursery rhyme

women are jealous by nature

not naughty, not nice,

nor sugar and spice

and I`m kind of bewildered by that

predictable way

of thinking you`re good while being mean

of saying you`re unique while being the same

why do we have to try so hard

to be but a half of what man can easily be

I`m not a man, yet I know

when a girl likes me, she would ignore me,

she would be vile

she would not let it show

The 30th Birthday- part 3

Here she was, gently swinging her body back and forth in the arms of her boyfriend, her eyes ever hidden either by the dark, or by the veil of her curls.

The guy was obviously mad about her, that I could tell. He was constanlty staring at her but I`d probably be just as obsessed about looking at her if I were him. I was sure she had put a spell on him. He saw me looking their way so I had to think of something better than gaping at the couple.

*

A week later I already thought of the encounter as an alcohol-generated fantasy. I was too drunk that night, that`s why the girl had seemed so beguiling. I turned to my ordinary life of celibacy which included heavy dating and diligently attending to the corporate needs. I was in net solutions, a boring but lucrative business which was ok at that time because I could easily afford paying my monthly instalments for my newly-acquired one-bedroom terraced condo. Frankly, it was one of my Peter Pan ideas; I couldn`t imagine living anywhere but on the roof of a building. I needed to be close to the sky and above everyone else. Plus, all the wendies I brought there seemed to fall for the place. I enjoyed bringing women to my den, I loved their bare feet walking on the balcony, I loved them re-creating that Pretty woman scene where Julia feigns falling from the penthouse balcony. Yeah, that was more or less everything I cared about.

Then there was this Tuesday that almost changed my life. I say almost because it never blossomed into anything good. It only changed me. Us.

I had to attend a business brunch with a media representative who was about to give us a project to work on. A new website they wanted and that`s all I knew from all the emails I had received. Signed by some Monna Bernard. My coffee was getting lukewarm, I was getting nervous and on the verge of getting really pissed when she entered the restaurant. She was the same girl from my birthday night. She was Ms Monna Bernard and she had her reddish hair strictly pulled back. None of the curls was to be seen.

She gave a sigh when she recognised me and I`m sure she almost blushed.

"Monna Bernard" she grabbed my fist.
"Adam Graham"