I have been loved the blue colors (yep, colors) since I remember. But, like everything I try to not spend it using ad nauseam, so when I can I choose grey suits, or yellow walls, or red books, or black bags or lemon green cups. Is a haunting presage that some day I cannot see the blue with the same eyes again, see it as some ordinary color if I waste its colors in everything I could have.
I am not sure why I like it, maybe the old superman’s comics where the man, who could be the last inca, used a big electric blue costume; also there are the blues you can see when you live at 3800 meters above the sea: or who knows, could be that it was a scarce color in those days that industries has limitations and everything seemed an uniform and anonymous grey.
Heraclitus whispers to our ears that we are never going to step the same river again. Sure, but I’d love that that other river could always be blue ;-).
Today I went to downtown to pay a register, and noticed several couples in the street or girls going to meet their half oranges. I see that most people has some relief in celebrate this day cause is a predefined day to share some love. I haven’t a girlfriend now but at the same time I am grateful to not have a girlfriend today. Today I see as a day of compromise to obligatory do something special, although this “special” always is go to eat to some place, a red rose and the time to exhibit the (official) couple to the best places the pocket can endure.
I am not against that, in fact I understand the couples expect those rituals. But to me that ends in a never ending game of do some actions in some predetermined times and places without much heart or mind but a calendar reflex. That’s a reason to not have girlfriend today, (or to not be had for a girlfriend), like religions the custom kills the spirit.
In one page from an infinite book Borges wrote that when young he preferred the sunset more than the sunrises; but when he grow older the sunrises, with the promise of the beginning of a new life, more life, were preferable to the former.
I am not sure of that division: I always preferred dawns even when I like the sunsets and I adore the night. I had a happy childhood, indeed every child is happy even in the worst contexts, but two specific conditions made me appreciate the sunrises: the latitude near the Ecuador in the highlands in the proximities of the Titicaca Lake and the eighty’s terrorists; the first condition means that the sunsets are at 5:30pm or 6:15 pm so the sunsets are earlier than other places (although perhaps is that the hour is set with the reference of the distant coast so the difference is totally noticeable) and the second condition means that the terrorist attacks let us without electric energy, so after the sunset there was a short period with candles and finally to sleep. That was pretty normal in those years and to me and the other children in the city that was part of the life, we played, laughed, and everything a child can do in those circumstances. Actually even today I enjoy periods, let’s say a month or two in the year, without light, music nor sounds.
So, although I was sleeping deep, the dawn has a significance of more time to play, and to see curious creatures, read encyclopedias, tales and to hunt cats (there were some feral kittens that I wanted to get as pets, but they were so fast!)