Lovers and Romantics

"Today, learnings appears in the series stories. Frankly, it is disappointing that personal feeling and experiences of life are not original. The common line of humans, a life that repeats and reflects, leaving aside its uniqueness, contrary of all overcoming messages. However, it is not a destructive speech, it is a revelation about the important of the community and the common sense. May be, the explanation of our possibility to have empathy and to build a society. Id doesn't matter.  After the hours searching in the ceiling of the room something, the first reaction was, I need to fuck - he said. However, just the red wine and the tears were the flavour of the afternoon. I don't need love, just the body and the passion, fluids and the bright in the night. Why are we so dumb? - She said one Thursday night, before leaving, definitely. Two weeks after, another body was in his life. What happens with she is part of the macho questions without any correct answer. In fact, she had every right to leave him and go to bed with her students, whit his best friends and with the man that can give you the economic benefits to which here is accustomed. I'm one with the wine, and the wine is one with me. And now, is time to fuck - he said the Monday night to see her eyes. She smiled.

After forty years is common that the adult life is discovered. There are not the young age of the bright mind and the innocence and sanctimony, the time of the responsibility and guilty is now. It is not a question of a way of expiation, the real path is the causal and casual actions and how it is possible to take a decision with the story lived and the past dreams. Mental models to resist (not hold on) the years and the iniquities of the mankind world.  Then, it's hot tonight. Into the darkness, like a spy, I listen to the conversation and the crying. I don't understand, in sobs, why the sadness is given towards women and frivolity towards men. Remembering my destruction, I taste the wine. The couple in the balcony, have sex again.  I don't see, just the groans and movements. And after orgasms, He leave in crying to her. I move slowly to the cup to sense the fragrance of  times and stories in that wine. Red, it is possible that I drink my own blood and sadness. After the orgasms and my fluids in her body, she said me good bye, never ever.

In the new human world, the arguments of the tales must be simple and short. There are not sufficient time to read or to see more than a (catchy) chorus of a tube. Or two hundred eighty characters, but it is better an animated gif. However the emoji could close the idea. In five lines, authors try to captivate a mind, a life, but the real world doesn't give the sufficient motivation.  Inspiration. The action is not sufficient when the words are not new. Nothing new to say. And my tongue in a new body, in another lips and mouth searching the sounds of a new melody to play in a rare story of the new ways and the lifes of a man in the end of the world. It is not sure that the idea of the new life with the memories of the lost loves is possible to write in the story of the world. Without names, only bodies and faces. Without love words but yes with sounds of lips and kisses.

What is not used is atrophied. As the hearth, as the mind. The mouth to sing the songs of the night in a Monday when the fear and the expectative of a part of the population still a change, given by the others. Always the others, because the coward and the hopelessness are strong in an oppressed society. Yes, these weeks are the time for the lovers and romantics, days to think that the words are not sufficient to describe the emotions of the people: days to create. Days to lie. Nights to die.   Now, I'm a man. An adult who walks gently through the streets because he has forgotten to run. A being who in spite of everything, enjoys the night sky, starry, that reminds him of his dreams as a child. A man dancing over her body, without his hearth. Nights to die, sunrises to resurrect, hugged in another body after be one. Be sex.

Tonight, all consequences are the incorrect causalities of a great world. December is a rare month when the humans try to find the significance of a total year, however there are not a real meaning for all the existence. Faces and words are the same in a bizarre picture without a a possibility of being understood. I understand now that insistence is not for romantics or lovers. The new quests and questions, the adventure of the new bodies and souls with another songs and groans are the new lifes for lovers, for real romantics. Atrophied my hearth -  I said in a untimely poem - I turn to my mind and the sex, to sing a new song. The song in the darkness whit a taste of red wine and the night smell close to the sea and the sky. Just at time of the new tale, the new human world with she and me. Without tears, with little phrases and shadows."