EL PONCHO

Imagine this kind of guy who is a player. Super hot guy. Super stupid as well. 
Imagine that on a friday's night you start talking to a northern girl in a club's restroom because of yeah, you're sometimes quite shameless. 

Imagine that you discover due to the random serendipity that both of you have been dating this guy in the same period of time. But, oppositely to the cute northern, you are not surprised at all because you're kind of an oldie now. You've learnt from all this shit and you can only get hurt from persons you truly respect, not from assholes. So following your adopted british philosophical skepticism, you just rise your eyebrows saying an inexpressive "well".  

Imagine then, that after the initial shock you check his instagram in a middle of a cold city thousands of kms away. 

Imagine that it's the international day of the woman (or something like that) and he has posted some bullshit about how important woman are and how much respect they deserve. We wouldn't be here without you, he says. 

Imagine now, oh how curious, he seemed to be different from all.

"Sorry, but one can't live for love, sex and rock'n'roll."

MY PEPPERS ARE FULL

So pissed off to move on nowhere else than forward.
So pissed off about that the present is already the past in such a dictatorial manner that cannot be real. Fact that, in addition, cannot be understood by her human and simple mind. 
Fuck the system (in general).
Fuck the past (especially). 
Fuck the verbal conjugation of the past. 
Fuck off the shitty past pluscuaperfect's verb conjugation in the subjunctive regime. 
Fuck off and die now.

"Do you remember when I was young and beautiful?

Me neither"

A NORMAL DAY

On a normal day you wake up quite early, eventually. Dirty dishes on the sink, but it's ok (you don't mind anymore). You take a shower listening your Basté on the radio, slowly and quietly so you don't wake up her and she can still sleep for a while after her AH journey. You prepare a disgusting sandwich of "I-don't-know-what", dry your hair and wear your snowboarding feminine jacket, beloved by everyone. 

Then, you bike flying to the university with your bag full of stupid stuff, probably because it's been a long time since you haven't been able to go out accompanied just only by your thoughts. And an old angry woman passes you by with her blue eyes semi-closed for the wind. And she looks at you, or not. In fact, she doesn't give a shit about how fast are you biking, what you are doing or if you are dying on the wet ground. 

You park the bike in your favourite spot with apathy trying to keep all your multiple cold items with you. Coffee. Coffee, please. Floor 12 (among others) and you find him trying to understand a financial graph for 10 hours. And then you just wonder why he's still your friend..and why you haven't killed him before. Bah, you just hug him. 

You work relentlessly (or at least you pretend it) during the whole day. Coffee. Coffee, please. Look at that! Such a nice sunset...And then you come back home with the weird feeling you have done absolutely nothing and your butt is getting fat for seconds.

The trash bags are next to the door, but it's ok (you don't mind anymore). And with a starving hunger you start cooking with them while waiting for him to come back from his respectable job. When he's back, you ask him how was the day and he tells you that was ok, a normal day. Finally, you all together (Steve included) eat a strange handmade pasta without salt. And you laugh about bullshit. But this time you meant it. You laugh truly as when you were 8 years old (omg, this golden age).

And while you are checking how much would cost to buy an island in   privateislandsonline.com, you have this warm feeling that kind of comforts and saddens you at once. And it's then, in this precise moment, when you wonder what the hell you would have done without them in your daily life. And the only thing you can think about is how lucky you are to be able to enjoy them so up close.

"Important things are always tenderly told on normal days"