How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days and a Gentleman in 10 years

Last Sunday evening I watched Donald Petrie movie: ‘How to lose a guy in 10 days’. It was casually filmed ten years ago. In that time I met a charming gentleman that started courting me and woke up my desire to write. Soon he became my source of inspiration. Andie Anderson starred by Kate Hudson, writer who worked for a magazine called Composure as the "How to..." girl, was asked to write an article called "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days”. Although she was unwilling with the idea, it came about when one of her friends, Michelle, experienced a minor breakdown after yet another break-up. Using her friend as inspiration, Andie revealed how she would actually start dating a guy and drive him away but "only using the classic mistakes women usually make". Unfortunately, the guy she chose, an advertising executive Benjamin Barry, acted by Matthew McConaughey, at the same time was striving for a pitch to advertise diamonds and explains to his boss and co-workers how "a woman in lust wants chocolate, a woman in love wants diamonds". When he questioned Ben's knowledge about love, Ben bet he could make any woman fall in love with him if he wanted to. If he could make any woman fall in love with him before the upcoming company ball, in just 10 days, he would headed the advertising for the new diamond company. My gentleman and I did not bet anything on this flirting but to live a different romantic experience out of our ordinary days. I was straighter with my thought more than with my sayings; he did the same with his intentions. We got to know deep feelings inside our hearts. We met in the unconscious stream of our past lives and we undertook unfulfilled promises beyond the times that left us astonished. Years past and we used to write messages, sometimes we talked on the phone and we met from time to time to spent hours talking with our hands about “our” things, or just life that go past by. From this starting point onwards, neither Andie nor Ben revealed their own identities and secret purposes, but friends and circumstances conspired to face them both to real love. No matter how hard Andie worked to make Ben break up with her in order to complete her article; Ben stayed with her despite everything in hopes of making her fall in love with him. I inspired my gentleman during his job trips and wrote a poem I will never forget. I found myself doing any kind of creative gifts and everything I read was related to his words regards me. We met sometimes in the middle of the road to drink smiles and swim in shadows of deep glazes. But with the passing of years it was turning difficult to find the time to share; months raced and avoided our intention of encounters, brief messages with excuses for meaning replaced loving words. Forget…me not were my tears blowing down my cheeks last summer wind. When they were very close to breaking up they attended couples counseling and they agreed, as a solution to “their” problems, to visit Ben’s family for the weekend. While they were together, Ben and Andie began to form a genuine bond, playing card games with the family, learning to ride Ben's motorcycle. Upon arrival home Ben even referred to Andie as "his girlfriend". Our relation is almost finished because I was tired of waiting patiently destiny delivering the ideal opportunity to coincide in a determined place at any point in time. Many lonely hours looking for my gentleman, not so gentle nowadays, who never arrived… Andie tried to explain to her boss Lana that she could not continue writing and publishing this article as she had "really got to know this guy", but Lana remained insistent upon it. Around the same time, Andie and Ben went to the company ball together where Ben's boss, Phillip, met Andie and told Ben that he "had met her, she loves you, you win". Seeing Ben's good news, some envious colleagues set about to ruin it for their co-worker, spread the news about the bet to his close friends, so Andie knew about the bet all along and was playing along to help Ben win. Although Ben’s friends rushed to Andie's side and beg her to keep quiet, they did not realize she was still blissfully unaware. Almost simultaneously, Andie's boss Lana - who was unaware of Ben's role in Lana's "How To" article - revealed Andie's true intentions to Ben. I tried to reveal the reasons for we should bet on this special friendship. I wrote a letter: We are part of each other, we have no other interests (money, jobs) but caring one another and we had lived so many loving encounters even beyond our presences…. .Silence. Long lonely Silence. As he did not appear I sent him delicate pictures with sweet words to remain hidden in my essence…. But the answers never returned. Upon learning of each other’s bet, they attempted to humiliate in many publicly ways such as singing ridiculously and they even did a duet alternating the lyrics to accused mutually about cheating one another. They went their separate ways before Ben is shown Andie's article and encouraged to read it. She explained in it how she "had lost the one man she ever fell for", and when he heard she had quitted her job at Composure and is on her way to Washington, D.C. for an interview, he chased her taxi and stopped her. Once he accused her of running away, they revealed their true feelings for each other and the film ended with Ben's instructing the taxi driver to return Andie's belongings to her home, and then they kissed and lived for ever happily. Uncovered our intentions,-his about seizing the day and mine about eternal romantic courting, - flirtation came to an end. We lived ordinary lives. When he invaded my memory I sent a short message or intended a phone call. He never answered any of them. With his angel smile echoed in my mind I write to my Pegasus… because I lost my gentleman; even after revealing my true feelings to him. I have eaten my chocolates and rejected my diamonds just for the sake of love in freedom. But nobody appeared to rescue my romantic self. This is a real ending or perhaps as it is not happy I can always be hopeful and expect… real gentlemen do not disappear. They vanish away riding white Pegasus across the sky of ladies dreams.

Meta cognición de una idea próxima al AMOR

Como en todo comienzo es una idea. Cada cosa que existe “es” desde el momento de su concepción mental, un embrión dentro del útero cerebral. Cada idea es única, inigualable. Toda creación tiene un creador que ejerce su omnipotencia sin saber de la ciencia, porque desconoce la esencia que la conforma. Es puro misterio. ¿Quién introdujo la duda que comenzó en un vacilante latido hasta crear un endeble principio? Sin dudas que fueron los irresponsables sentidos que todo lo perciben como borbotones. Ellos envían señales a la mente que se agolpan esperando entrar raudamente al corazón por la puerta grande de la razón, que apenas se entreabre aletargada desperezándose tras una siesta de análisis. Se identifica…, pierde objetividad en el momento que advierte su exposición y pudorosa se viste de palabra. Revestida de este atributo recorre laberínticos lugares, se mimetiza en las percepciones que destellan los sentidos. Algunas se instalan en cómodas acepciones y de vez en cuando sufren algún cataclismo natural que las alborota y emergen altivas en defensa de los sentimientos que se auto declaran como AMOR

Reality shows: Como la vida misma

La realidad disfrazada de ficción.
La producción televisiva de los “reality” irrumpió en las últimas décadas. Costos bajos, y escasos recursos humanos son el complemento de una importante inversión tecnológica. Existen desde los modestos “talk shows”, en los cuales el éxito es responsabilidad directa del conductor-actor de turno, hasta los mega emprendimientos como Gran Hermano, donde el trabajo técnico de edición y compaginación acompañado por una activo equipo de producción, guía la morbosidad popular por caminos poco imaginados.
Cinematográficamente fuimos marcados por verdaderos engaños artísticos, como Truman Show. El mega “reality” de ficción que no pudo con los valores intrínsecos del individuo, como lo son el AMOR y la LIBERTAD.
La libertad normalmente se viste de sueños y se alimenta de anhelos. Muchos jóvenes buscan su vocación más humana a través de ellos. Miles de chicos participan de castings de baile como el promocionado Soñando por bailar, programa de selección de probables candidatos para ocupar un lugar en un show junto a destacas figuras mediáticas. La condición de “reality” se ve marcada por un todo vale. La sociedad actual valida cualquier medio para conseguir un propósito.
Miss Tacuarembó, un largometraje uruguayo dirigido por Martín Sastre y protagonizado por Natalia Oreiro. Es una comedia musical que pregona que los sueños se concretan si se tiene fe. Cuestiona irónicamente el desvío del concepto de “fe”, como creer sin ver, que canaliza la religión católica. Natalia es una joven que creció con la ilusión de convertirse en reina de belleza y ahora busca darle sentido a su existencia. Se traslada a Buenos Aires y comienza a alejada de sus fantasías infantiles Pero el destino la sorprende a través de Todo por un sueño, un “reality show” que consigue reunir a esta mujer con su madre, a quien no veía desde hacía varios años.
A partir de ese reencuentro, los sueños que parecían haber quedado estancados en otra etapa de su vida reflotan y vuelven a ilusionar a la joven. Lo que la mayoría de los espectadores aplauden como un final feliz se ve empañada por la metodología de la producción que usa el “reality”: Engañar para que el sueño se haga realidad. He aquí la paradójica contradicción. Natalia es seducida por un nuevo compañero de trabajo, y descubre el amor con él. Sentimiento que dura lo que la sorpresa del “reality” devela. La seducción es parte del engaño para mantenerla distraída para concretar el sueño de su madre. Porque reencontrarse con su madre no era su propio sueño. De pronto se da cuenta que si no reacciona y aprovecha el impacto de verse ante la cámaras esta era la última oportunidad para darle vida a la ilusión, que nació con ella y se había convertido en su obsesión. Entonces, hábilmente reacciona despabilándose y canta ante las cámaras logrando el aplauso de la concurrencia. Los sueños no se cumplen, se planifican y protagonizan con impulsos de energía aunque a veces vayan en dirección contraria a la realidad que nos rodea. Esa es la magia que los hace posibles.
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Mi vida es “my life” by Liliana G. 2010.- I feel and I try to do what my guts say.

“Life is like a box of chocolate you never know what you get. Mum said that I must get what I need in life, but Dan said that Life is destiny!! “(Forrest Gump, film)
I want it all!!! (Rolling Stones, song)
I want everything!!! I can’t have all I want, but I get everything I need. (Graffiti)

Quiero todo. Quiero vivir el Fuego de la Pasión, sin renunciar a la estrategia premeditada de la Razón. Quiero seguir el impulso imprevisto y después rendirme ante el reposo reflexivo.
Quiero que me sorprenda el sobresalto inesperado mientras me rodeo la tranquila y segura estabilidad.
Negro y Blanco. Calor y frio. Sal y azúcar. Aparentes contrastes. Polos opuestos de una línea interminable donde fluctuamos a medida que transitamos por la vida.
Descubro que puedo mantener el equilibrio sobre ese hilo aparente que me sostiene y conduce, como si fuera una hábil artista circense. No se trata de ir a un extremo al otro columpiándome como un péndulo. Puedo aprovechar lo mejor de cada punto si mantengo el balanceo y espero el momento adecuado, como cuando de pequeña me hamacaba y creía que tocaba las nubes con las puntas de mis zapatos.
Con el correr del tiempo me doy cuenta que las sensaciones que tensan los extremos de este hilo, de donde pende mi vida, no son opuestas, sino complementarias. Al igual que los colores opuestos en el círculo cromático, no se incluyen amalgamados, sino que completan al otro, destacando su diferencia en perfecta armonía. La figura necesita del fondo para ser figura. En un todo infinito puedo enfocar mi mirada sobre los elementos que deseo que se constituyan en figuras y las recorto del fondo, según fije mi atención en unos u otros en forma indistinta. No puedo prescindir de ninguno de ellos, cada uno cobra identidad gracias a la existencia del otro.
Soy parte del todo. Soy lo que quiero en contraste del resto. Quiero todo, porque esa es la manera de ser yo. Todo lo que elijo para mi, existe en mi porque vive lo opuesto y complementario dentro de mi ser, que me permite verlo diferente y necesario.
Puedo sentir como la vida que comienza en un punto apenas perceptible se expande como una mancha hacia el infinito, los colores la tiñen en un arco iris ecléctico, mientras gira se amalgaman los tonos que resulta un negro pardo, sin luz. Cuando nos detenemos, vemos la luminosidad de cada color y la forma que los contiene, como un misterioso e indescifrable Mandala.

Tempestad silenciosa

Mediodía soleado y caluroso. Tempestad silenciosa. El entró al bar. Mirada penetrante y turbia sonrisa. Alto en imponente se dirigió a la última mesa saludando al mozo al pasar. Corrió la silla con alegría angelical, colgó el saco en el respaldo y se sentó con carácter endemoniado. Abrió su portafolio. Pidió agua con actitud avasallante. Impulsivamente tierno. Tomó una lapicera y comenzó a escribir. Lo observé solitaria desde mi mesa de enfrente. Allí estaba él: absorto al descuido y esmeradamente disperso. Escribía con ímpetu concentrado. Yo, lo miraba con distraída atención. El y yo no nos podíamos cruzar. Nuestras miradas tenían diferentes horizontes. El buscaba aventurado sosiego y yo necesitaba un agitado refugio. De pronto una simpática silueta femenina se proyectó encima de sus papeles. El se puso de pie con un efusivo saludo. Dejó a un lado los apuntes sobe la silla contigua y ofreció asiento con risa franca. Agasajó a su esperada invitada con cortesía y un café. Mientras tanto, desde enfrente, yo miraba como se nublaba mi día sin saber más de ti.

CICATRIZ

Duele. La puntada lacerante nace en el mismo centro. Se constriñe. Se paraliza. Son instantes eternos. Luego el dolor sube expandiéndose en círculos concéntricos de lluvia. La oleada asoma a la superficie y la espuma queda bordeando con sal la herida. Entonces se relaja, intenta retomar control de sí misma. Pero el recuerdo de una sonrisa tierna arremete indómita otra embestida. Otra vez, con un suspiro entrecortado expira aliento helado. La sal descansó a la orilla de la herida del alma. Secó en un caparazón blanco, fusionó el doloroso corte. Es muy rígida pero cuando en la memoria sube una marea de palabras dulces, se filtra a la superficie por grietas latentes. Arde. Se vuelve a secar y endurece aún más el caparazón. Tira, retrocede ante la regeneración del tejido invisible que reconforta el alma en su padecimiento. Sufre. El alma tiene una cicatriz. Una herida que vistió con nueva piel el viejo dolor, ese que quedó grabado en el centro profundo de sí misma, con la marca indeleble que deja amargo sabor.

Romantic

Today I am feeling a bit romantic!!! I am going to post a short story I wrote some time ago

Misty falling endless love

She opened the window with the first rays of light. Mist was in the sticky air. He always was present in her thoughts. She wondered where he was far away in time; meanwhile the last autumn leaves were falling down. His words still struggle with hers reaching out her memory in the echo of her tangled sleepy mind:
-Do you love me? – She asked anxiously
He looked up into her eyes with his tender smile and says nothing.
In the distance during the darkest hour long time ago. He left work aside, and wrote about his feelings for his angelical muse:
“I owe you answers, but I give you questions…”
-Why do I always have to look for you? Do you ever need me? - She claimed with watery eyes.
He looked down keeping his silent smile. Then he answered her questions with another.
- What is the difference if I need you? – He added murmuring to himself, -I cannot have you.
“I owe you caresses, but I give you words
The caresses will reach your body like fire...”
-But… you already have me, - she said hopefully- because I love you and I do my best to give everything you deserve and I would die if it is useless– her words faded away in her tormented memory. He also vanished in her daily life.
Every day, at dawn, during the last four years she remembered some bits of conversations. They were out of context of her routine but they were meaningful to her loving conscious soul. One thing she was sure about. He was the special man every woman expects some time or another in her life. The man she dreamt about while reading her romantic teenager novels. He was almost perfect. He was a passionate wild spirit. He represented the charming earthquake that shakes her floor: A quiet, shy intellectually bearded type of man. She did not notice it at first. He contemplated her silently behind his glasses during the College lectures. She attended his classes and drank every word he said with an endless thirst of knowledge. And she learned more than expected. She started writing stories that he inspired. He was delighted with ecstasy when he read his present for the teacher’s day, a romantic short story with open end. By that time, she had her life centered in a few matters related to a loved family and job duties. But she dared to throw to a new cosmic world where he was her north in the compass. He irrupted in her forties to give her a new direction. He carried his early fifties heavy luggage: A loved devoted separated wife, two lovely daughters, a rebel son and…a lover who became his second wife just because she conceived her youngest daughter.
“I owe you room in my life but I give you the sky
My room for you will reach your eyes like blue light…”
At first they have classes together, and then they interchanged emails. After that, they exchanged some talks and they finished sharing their infinite souls in sunny autumn afternoons.
“And you will see the stars with your eyes closed”
She was never the same since then… and she still enjoys reading his poem that rebirth the passion that keeps her hopes alive, in the distant words that the wind brings every autumn, blowing the falling leaves.