diumenge, 18 de novembre de 2012

sparkling sights

1.

Greenwich (London); Thursday, 12th July 2012

I was sitting on a bus (343 to City Hall). The bus driver told us that the engine did not work at all and we had to wait until his turn started.
So, we did it.

By the moment he started his journey, everybody without any exception went to him and put their tickets on that little machine (not in Spain, nor in Catalonia it happens). A blonde short hair man sat on a single seat and took his wet opened book and started to read. He had his Iphone in his right hand and his wet opened book in the other waiting to be read. But the mobile makes that kind of sound that, nowadays, every single person knows: the whatsapp sound.
And then it happened.
His breast started a kind of breathing that happens when you are nervous, excited or waiting for an important person.
I didn't know who she/he was, but I must say that that person who sent him the message was a lucky one.

It is said that we are here (in the world) to beat in people's heart, and today I've seen an evidence. A lovely evidence.



2.

London; Thursday, 12th July 2012

Walking through the bridge, there was a man, a blue eyed man, that was wearing a suit and had no umbrella.

The afternoon had been quite rainy and it became worst while the minutes went on. My hair had become wet and wet. But once he put his eyes on me, we started the game. Non of us knew the rules exactly but we knew what to do. We looked at each other and we do not stop until our bodies interbeed. The world was moving slower around us, the time didn't last or at least, I didn't want it to happen. We just fixed our gaze on our pupil. I wanted to smile or just move my lips but the game did not let me to do it.

So, there's a man in London with my sight in his eyes and my eyes in the very depths of his brain.



3.

Greenwich (Londres); Dissabte, 14 de juliol del 2012

Avui m'he emocionat amb un retrobament i ara l'explicaré.

Dissabte, 8:09 am a New Cross Station esperant la Marta per agafar el tren juntes i anar a London Bridge Station. Allí, juntament amb les companyes d'ofici i el company suís anirem a Windsor i Eton a passar el matí.

Vaig mirant el rellotge perquè, ja que per un cop a la vida he estat puntual, em fa il·lusió arribar a l'hora a London Bridge. Les 8:10 i la Marta encara no ha arribat. Potser s'ha adormit. Em fico la meva música, aquella que et retorna a moments viscuts, en el meu cas són ben pròxims i nostàlgics (Txarango, Quan tot s'enlaira). De sobte, capficada en els meus pensaments de la passada nit, en el que havia de fer i no havia de fer a partir d'aquell precís moment, miro cap a la dreta i em crida l'atenció un home de raça negra molt rialler, un somriure d'aquells que transmeten tendresa, aquelles rialles que demostren el feliç que estàs de veure a algú. Aquest algú està a la meva esquerra. És una noia també de raça negra, semblen de la mateixa edat, cap als trenta. Ja feia estona que s'havien reconegut entre la gent, però només ells dos ho sabien. Els dos s'afanyen, tot el que desitgen és trobar-se, tocar-se, notar la presència de l'altre. Just a un metre d'on sóc, es donen una abraçada realment bonica, encara amb el somriure als llavis. 
Comencen a parlar, potser de com estaven, però això ja no és important.


            "No te'n penedeixis mai de res que t'hagi fet somriure"