Tuesday, November 30

Silence – Information

Counting the military battles annulled the possibilities of a crazy night and talking about a girdle canceled a possible reunion. Listen more and talk less.

In my teens, if someone wanted to kiss you and make you cuddle, I asked you if you wanted to walk near the boats. The sailor euphemism was a proposal of crazy Love. One Saturday night, the handsome man in town suggested a walk to my pretty pretty friend. They left the disco to the rhythm of Travel Travel, of Desireless, and the rest of the gang believed that music in French could only be the preamble to a true summer love. It was not like that and my friend returned shortly after with a disappointed face. He told us that while she was staring at him making eyes and smiling sideways trying to encourage the first step, he did not stop telling her military battles. So, what had to be a crazy Love It ended up being a pluf love and, as the anecdotes that happen in adolescence are remembered all our lives, the friends still make fun of that affair that could be and it was not the nights that we had a little drunk.

I identify with the nervous boy and wasteful of nonsense verbiage. A few years ago, during a book presentation, I came across an ex from my youth. Since he was always a polite kid, he told me that I looked good. I got nervous and I replied that the credit was for the sash I was wearing. I imagine my lack of sophistication helped my ex remember why we left him at the time. Like the gorgeous handsome boy, I don’t hit the mark either. You have to know how to be in silence. With others and with oneself.

Younes and his little brother They have a fruit and vegetable store at the end of the street. He wakes up when most of us sleepHe visits peasants and drives for hours to have his store stocked by mid-morning. He has three children and the eldest kicks him out a cable taking orders to the neighbors. Have I ever seen him go through his homework between boxes of Canarian bananas and onions. I would have four children, if you hadn’t died when you were very little. Younes shaved his hair when he got sick. As soon as he grew a little older, he would pass the machine again until he was bald. At that time, his shop sounded soft chants in Arabic. He told me they were psalms from the Qur’an. To your brother he likes pop. During the shift he works they ring Prince, Madonna or the Travel Travel, of adolescence. While Younes he is in charge there is no music, except the other day, when, while I was choosing tomatoes and watermelons, I listened to a couple of dance songs. I asked him if he was going into the clubbing world, but no. He’d had such a flood of customers that he hadn’t even realized the music was playing. “I don’t need the noise. Neither songs, nor informative. I do more than a hundred kilometers a day and I always do them in silence. It is a way of ordering my life and thoughts“, told me.

I left loaded with fruits and vegetables thinking about the opportunities that are lost by talking too much. For saying, commenting or judging without coming to mind. Without going any further, if I had not talked about my girdle that day, perhaps I would have gone back to walking the boats with my ex from youth.


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