Thursday, September 29, 2005

How many times I have been in this empty board, this week... I so want to write my blog, but there were other things that required my time. Yesterday, I got an ultimatum. I must be prepared for a great change in my life. I know I shall have fear, and no doubt there is, deep deep in my soul, beyond what I normally can reach... *sigh*

This week has been didactic in extreme. I would say, the Hierophant is the card in the board right now. So many reasons; for one, I discovered to my surprise, that I desire, a lot, a simple "well done" from Fierros. Somewhen earlier I described him, he's just the engineer must of us will never be. And that's my surprise, never before had I had that role. I mean, previously (only pollo knew) I cherished the approval of another person but wasn't like this. In my childhood my dad asked, who was my hero? Who did I admire? I said, none. "There's no single person in the world I would turn out to be like" I had like seven. I want to be respected as equal in technical merits... And that's a long journey I guess. Listen & Learn, so says the Hermetic tradition.

A bit more back in time... I think it was a Tuesday... I went with mariana to the DQ. And there I saw it. Have you ever had a female friend that is so good nature, that it feels the same as if she were a he? Don't misunderstand, as if with she, you could actually do things without considering she's a woman first?? (Or the other side, guys who don't have the male stigma) I know you have, because once we all were like that, before adolescence I think. When gender wasn't so explicit, I mean, in how people see life. Once ago, I didn't have to filter if my friend would like or not a scene... Now if I comment about a movie, I think, "he would probably enjoy the insanely-high violence" or "for her, you should address how the rose is really a metaphor..." Well, when I met for the first time mariana, I think she was in that primordial state. I'm sure most of my female friends said that she lacked a feminine aura. That maybe-Tuesday, I discovered how her tastes have blossomed. Now as every chick, she doesn't like certain food, and has big mood sweeps, and is happy to accept that she is paradoxical as any woman and that the best we (males) can do is accept it, and love it. Maybe it's only me, but I now see a full grown woman. There has been more changes in her attitude, but I won't tell them all here, you can discover them. She's a great friend.

More in the past, I had a death. Once I had a dog, called snoopy. He wasn't trained, wouldn't bring a stick, sit or shut up when ordered. He was a pain in thess, when he got his mind that he wanted to be brushed, have food or simple play. He demanded an equal treatment between himself and me and my brother. He decided that no door should be closed ever on the inside of the house, and yet that the principal door, shall have key. And I loved him for that. He knew when we talked about him (without mentioning him), he knew when I was talking about dark magic, and he disliked it, barfing. He was there in the dreadful night I wept more than ever. In fact, everynight I had ever cried alone in my bedroom, he was there or scratching the door. How was that possible, didn't know. I always felt a special nexus with him. I didn't brought him, didn't have him food, neither bathed him. And yet when I called for him, we would turn as if telling, I heard you. He wouldn't always come, I agree, nonetheless he heard me. I toyed with him a lot, but what really joined us, was at least from my perspective, the knowledge that we both have an independent life. He was no slave, neither I a god.
He was old. More than he should ever had to age, the vet said. 16 isn't a figure in most dog's life. He was practically blind, deaf and tired. Tired more than anything else. In the last days, he just slept. Though he kept doing a patrol every night, no door shall be close... The last days were very hard for him, 'cause his paws weren't strong anymore. He fall, several times, each time against the wall or something, but he kept the patrol. When he was a young dog, he would only urinate and so in the bathroom. Only in the newspaper section we laid. That was, pe'i, the only restriction we imposed. The last day my dad asked us to end snoopy's life. I knew the time had come, after all. Yet I opted against it, not for him, but out of egoism. I wanted him alive. However, that final night he did a miracle, at least to my eyes. He scratched the door to the backyard, the universal sign for, open this door. And he walked, as erect as I had not seen him in months. And he walked to the corner, facing it. And he didn't move it. All the rest inside the house. Watching him from distance. They didn't get it, but I do. He said good-bye in that moment. He said, that's enough for me. That moment I knew I would kill my dog, for he had asked it, Tomorrow I said. And I grabbed him, for like an hour he was there, facing the corner. That night he slept in the bed of my parents, in the center. That Friday I fall asleep knowing a sure thing, he wouldn't out live the weekend. At nine o'clock, I wasn't there, but my father told me, he howled one last time. He vigorously swept his tail, as if in ecstasy, as if it was the happiest moment and there then he passed away.