Alejandro Páez Varela
A man beaten in the
Metro Metro Chapultepec. Paul Auster bores me. It's 10 am and the crowd also does not stop reading.
An elderly man beaten in one of the windows seems to load the raw carload, sentences of many, the anxiety of the world and my boredom. No: with the nylon bag full of tools ("a plumber?) Rather tired of all cargo. I wonder, seeing her battered face and body that can stand upright. Beside him, a couple and their three children to sleep snoring, those who see the scene we are horrified because the youngest, whose hair baba odds with fixed, slowly slips the hands of his mother. But a mother knows where, with a forearm pull him back to his chest and walked back to the illusion of deep sleep. Two young well groomed and are brand shirts boldly and anxiety to people, choosing who to attack, say, and one of them stares me. I hold the view that will give up because I thought I recognized, and that stops the car and we were in total darkness. When the lights come on, seconds later, there are close to me but behind a woman. I touch my portfolio: property. I see the bag without blinking for women but not saying anything special. So are thieves, I guess. The Metro stops: Balderas station. Some we and others enter.
the shuttle to the next car up with me a chamaquillo with a backpack on his shoulder. Metro is not Jamaica, or The Merced, why then sent? Because it is commanded. Shouts: "Ediciones not-know-what brings you as promoting the book Reflections and thoughts with volume two ideas about life, love, hope ..." Hope? I watch (though his eyes did not inspire confidence lost) and continues: "... lonely old people, poor Mother, Daddy, give me back my hands? Do not blame anyone ... "To me that's enough. I reach out to 10 pesos and handed me the book: 96 pages of cheap and dirty role I've seen in my life who knows where it will draw. Ediciones not-know-what does not exist or exists for the seller, because the book does not bring even legal page. The index promises: The Thirteen Rules of Happiness Happiness is in just for today I will be happy time and its moments in peace, I do not get to heaven in a single bound; How to be master of my emotions, mental health . That is, hope in its purest form. Authors: Anonymous, JG Holland, Anonymous, A. Junco, Amado Nervo, Aristotle, Seneca, La Rochefoucauld, Anonymous, L. Tolstoy, Erasmus, Anonymous, Ileana Vizcarrondo, San Augustine, Anonymous. At least two thousand 500 years of Western thought. Metro
Hidalgo. Pushed me down, but I am: I arrived at my destination. I open the other book and the character of Paul Auster is still reciting films he has seen. I give the writers Geva Theater, and Auster me agrees: "A film can be enjoyed-even-in a state of mindless passivity." Auster and I close to abandoning his character that invents characters and a second American civil war.
In my office, I think of the man carrying tools, the world's anguish and exhaustion of all. I open my new book (I think my serifot) seeking answers to this poor individual and, if possible, for me. A page Random says: "The secret to marital bliss is to require a lot of himself and some of the other." Slab would be more to his nylon bag, I say. No. I leaf. After a while I make a decision: Reflections and thoughts path to the pot volume two recycling of paper and throw it before I decide to open it again: "If you celebrate your birthday and decorate your room as a child, your life will be filled with joy "I read. Rochefoucauld not appear anywhere. Or St. Augustine.
way home, passing in front of me a cd with 100 love songs of all time, let it go. Then the book for your children paint with 100 separate issues Honey and lozenges for the throat raspy, with propolis for fatigue. The tablets, pills, say, and payment.
not think they have honey, propolis does not appear anywhere. But any good will make, I think, man I meet up tomorrow.
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