There is only one Ayelen

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I sit in this hammock, that has my fat ass on the balcony. I tried to read a book, but couldn’t be fucked, so decided to write, just now realising, I cant be fucked doing that either.  I suffer so the slanted shoulders of my own have something to read and feel like they exist, putting them back into their blades. Well, lets not get lost in the intricacies of anatomy. Its funny to think, you couldn’t name more than ten bones in your body. Your body. Well, who named them?

I wouldn’t have called him femur, I would have called him Greg, and I do, and Greg says hello.

“I am the biggest bone in the body,” Says Greg.
“No you're not.” says my cock.
“You aren’t even a bone, you skin full of veins!”
“I was talking about your brother Howard?!” replied the cock.
Howard being the name of my other femur.
“Sorry,” Said Greg, “but I'm 3mm bigger than him, so although I apologise for shouting at you with a false claim, you're still wrong.”
“What ever man,” my cock said, such a chill dude.

Ayelen left tonight, on a boat that was older than any phrase you could think of.
“I'm scared,” she said, rightfully so.
“Listen, its an older boat, that means it has not sunk for longer. If it was a new boat, its less tested.”
But she speaks Spanish, she doesn’t even know what the word sunk means.

As we rode on my scooter, the one I fell off and now have a throbbing thumb even though its been 10 days.
(I just realised I don’t use this thumb when I write. Like my fingers had a war and decided to kill him. how can I use him? I don’t use many of them actually. I only use one on my left hand. Jesus!)
As we rode on my scooter I felt water running down my face, what is this? tears….

I couldn’t label it sadness or joy. It was just something my body felt. Like my soul was leaking. My body was crying. No wisdom can deny nature, but only accept it without judgement.

“I love you Ayelen,” I said to the wind, hoping it would find her ears.
“I love you,” she replied.
To say I love you to someone, and mean it, might be the reason we are all here.

I taught her its okay, that its not all okay, and she taught me it just might be. If I ever make it as a writer, if I ever get somewhere that’s a place, if the pats on the back come, you can thank her. She has aged my emotions and caressed them away and back home through her presence and through her absence. You know its all grandiose. To be romantic. To speak of how a girl can make me feel, for better and sometimes worse. You know, I'm a man trying to make a living off sitting in a hammock with his fat guts and writing, who crawled through ceiling spaces for ten years and does not want to go back. What I think of her is none of your business. But I show her my writing. Writing that confesses wicked truths I try to hide in metaphors and other characters. And she loves me more for it. Knowing its all me.

A girl can say I love you back, and you can write ten pages, or she can not say it back, and you can write one thousand.

For some time, when I was stuck in an illusion, showing love in the narcissism hope she would return it and convince me I'm wrong about being right. She saw through what I didn’t have the strength to. Then when I showed myself, with great strength and the inability to be anyone else, she loved that person. I don’t know if this scared me or filled me with joy.
I was kind of hoping she would say I was wrong, because the things I believe in are a little existential.
And if the most amazing girl you have ever met tells you that they love you, you must be doing something true.

The final morning in bed, I kissed every part of her body goodbye. By the names the nerds made up, not the ones she named them.
“Goodbye cheeks, goodbye nose, goodbye chest,” I said with a kiss to each.
Then I got to her feet and started to understand those who find feet sexually attractive. But love a girl you will find the pimple on her ass hot.
I whispered to her feet so Ayelen’s ears couldn’t hear.
“Please, one day, walk this girl back to me.”

And we kissed in the water at the beach between the fish shit. I make her want to consider having a baby, she keeps bringing it up. Nature is on my side, her ovaries are writing my name in their diary because of my love for children, my innate ability to be a loving father. What do you really want? A child, or just to fuck without a condom?
Ah, lets not get lost in subtle questions my friend. Love is in the air and the air is in the atmosphere. Love fills the world. Take a breath, no matter how long I'm gone, you'll fill a capillary with magic for even a moment.

I wrote her a letter on paper, not on this computer because my legacy yearning monstrosity of a personality will put it somewhere to get attention and love, and of course hopefully money one day.
I told her I love her shadow, I love when she lets it shine, its funny and intelligent, and exactly what I need at times.

I watched Ayelen change in front of me. And of course, she would feel the same old girl, the one who found out Santa was not real, who lost her father who sits in the stars and watches over her. From that loving smile, that held the vigour and those cheeks that could melt a glazier, who I thought is beautiful, but maybe just full of shit, an air head. To a girl who could cut through any room with her intellect.

I guess you have to travel, maybe, or just wait till life does its thing, to meet a girl like her. To have everything she could ever need to get by and live a safe and comfortable life, but the whisper in her heart hurls her into the unknown and constantly, she stands tall. I saw the girl, who felt (maybe just for me) that it was against her yoga practises, her psychology, her philosophy to show the sharpness of her nails, to slowly surrender and realise everything she already knows, and that, like all of us, is nothing.

She laughs like a yogi. When she laughs, the clouds turn to listen. I cant help but smile looking at her. Sure, love may make me a fool, then so be it, I am the luckiest fool on this island, and I'm telling you, there are a lot here.

Do I want her all to myself? Forever?
A wiser man speaks before the one that will return, but no. You don’t own women, as much as the new trend of fear begs you too. Although, most women are projecting the opposite of what they want, when you meet one like Ayelen, you know its your faith rewarding you for letting go.

The knowledge from the light that sits in her brown eyes tells me, “Just keep letting go.”
And you do not keep Tinkerbelle in a jar.

The next time I see her, and I will move mountains to make it happen, no matter the circumstance, I cant wait to see what that beautiful manifestation has been up to.

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For me, well, I do my yoga, I drink my coffee and smoke from my pipe, I meditate and speak with my soul as I stretch and surrender. I find out I may have more guts than him. But don’t tell him I said that he will hurt me to humble me. We have become good friends lately, my soul and I.

I just used the light from the flame of the lighter to try and find the lighter, then I said, “Oh my god.”
Then I wrote it down, now you are up to date.

I saw, in the light of the flame, the alpha cat sleeping. I pat her. All cats are women to me, cause they act like them so much. I gave the other one a raw egg. I googled if they can eat eggs and say they no. What bullshit, a lie funded by the rich cat food companies. A cat can eat a fucking raw egg. Well, now the alpha has walked inside. I am going to stay up till five am and write. I am going to go until the calls of another world take me.

Oh no, I just heard the toaster go down, the alpha cat is cooking toast!

Now it is sitting in my bed eating and watching cat tv. Probably getting crumbs everywhere. Ah well, think of the life of that poor stray cat, the pain its shielding with its toughness, the cries she replaces with a hiss. I can deal with a few crumbs in my bed, for her to experience a brief moment of bliss.

And maybe I haven’t captured what I was trying too, and this writing, like that beautiful girl I waved goodbye to tonight, is just its own thing.