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CAP. 2. The consultation

I enter the clear private clinic cosultorio Montpellier, en calle Aragò:
páredes de un blanco inmaculado y suelo de cristalino mármol.
Me adentro en la diáfana estancia con resuelto caminar,
y en elegante zoom escudriño al bombón que preside la mesa,
una rubia de coleta tirante y labios cubiertos de fresa.

Me acerco hasta el borde de su tablón y bajo humilde la cabeza,
en una libre interpretación de la inclinación japonesa (que yo en eso estoy muy puesto) y fijo finalmente en ella mis ojitos de ensoñador.
-Mademoiselle. Buenos días-
le digo con grave voz.

La sueca no mueve un ápice de su inicial semblante,
y ni pizca de rubor asoma en sus mejillas de manzana.
Me mira en severely change through milky eyes.
(Ay ay to do to see these women since they are released,
not shrink from nothing)

- Who are you? - Voice asks me sharp.
- My name? And I say, as always in style, leaving the last
vocal goes slowly in my mouth.
am ...
Well, it's difficult to summarize.
filmmaker, entrepreneur, producer ... Benefactor
creative.

-no, you understood my question -
(The stewardess is warrior)
- What Who are you? - I repeated pounding the table with his pen.

I gotten past my amazement and I have, with renewed strength, the synthetically shelling some phases of my extensive (and inflation) curriculum.
Judit could even ask my advice, to send it by fax (and ipso-facto)
the document. But upon returning to pose my sober look on the face of the receptionist made me meeting her face,
and I perceive, shrewd, his look of hatred.

-Miss, are you confusing me with someone else? Asked ruefully.
Not only does not give up my lovely eyes, but is instead increasingly harsher
, injuring my composure -

"But I do not think you understood my question, sir, answers the Nordic
icily.
-In Lately, the last months, weeks or days ...
(I make a close-up of his mouth moving at the time that my bump is stretching in a hurry)
- Have you made someone happier?, Has your path? Has improved somewhat good and bad moments of your day? -Breathes-
"If your mother gets sick, will he see it? -

(But what the hell says this bitch!
do not you know who is going?
Al captor of beauty in the world sensitive!)

"Look, bitch," I say so taking off his hat.
- I've only been to treat this emerging bald! If your parents
do not know you're a lesbian, I care.
The people I admire, women ... Women hallucinate
with my young manhood! -

said that I lay there with haughty air.
Once in the street I recompose I lost my temper, I admit. Name
my forehead and bald! I do not know what happened, that slut ...
I can not let the anger from getting my face, my expression lines
nightly daubed anti-age,
what nonsense!

to remove this bitterness of the mouth called the first of my entourage
uniform and tell him the story of the consultation and so upset that monstrous child.
-Roger, I hallucinate, says "But ... wait a minute!
Does not this all a bad play of the rival producer? Do not want to undermine
rightly appeal to your confusion, your potential?

- That you have given, my friend - my i-phone hang triumphant call my adviser, "noia em semble that tens Molta feina, but first, tell me step by step my agenda-

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CAP 1. I head the European Dream

- I-

hack apart my duvet. A shy bump
blunts in my crotch
pajamas covered by the tweed, purchased at a boutique in London
square last year.
I get up and go to the bathroom. Here I touch my face reflective gesture.
In one day I grew a beard,
But yesterday I got the perfect shave!
"Well, well ... so what is this - I wonder to watch me in the mirror.
maybe I grew up in the face? Ralos
my hair fringe frontispiece
check it when sheathed my Dolce Gabbana
óculos
What if UVA radiation is undermining my male hormones?
Or is it perhaps that my stylist no longer gets the most volume to the crown grass?
and why the Paola, guais & scissors, not far from cheap.

But this is the price, folks, we know that
metrosexuality, at the end, you pay face.
And to me that what I say,
subscribing to women's magazines I get a pretty penny.
But as I approach them,
in bars at night, I bought assault with my sentences,
- Your beauty is of this world?
would capture your sensitivity in only two frames!

By day I am thinner, I prop a good alibi in the form of American
light and these eyes but shawty
imposts, camouflage my human emptiness.

But girls, I'm from here and there. Cosmopolitan
hardened me say, and so.
to me what I love is everything and nothing,
be a being, better not be, my image is my alibi.
And this mirror first thing in the morning is not a fallacy.
You'll see when I planted my modern--Juvenile
costume and I go for a walk around the room. Will shock you ....

-II-

So. Active
my buga with automatic
I stand down the road without seeing that cute little poodle that was tangled in my low
to cross the red light, or was it amber? Equals
.
The blonde is not good enough to pay for insurance so I floor
hard towards my second home,
ready to amaze the staff with my newfound sucks.

-III-

At the door, a freckled boy with large purple-rimmed glasses, chides me something from the other side, with improper fuss his young age. I think the poodle
crushed under my wheel mountain
Is it the child's human reincarnation?
and this spring, in my ever-present, eternal goodness rented
sphincter is activated from the sidewalk, forcing me to change.

(sphincter, on the other hand, has been carefully polished for Rosi
, Almodovar center of aestheticism, and I must say,
for his skillful hands. And every Wednesday evening, is what I do, never
is one to know when to walk out of his crotch bump tweed)

I approach to it (nothing to do with the above mentioned, and I of pedophile I have nothing)
and framing him with expertise in contrapicado.
The cinematic eye is my particular nightmare!
I came from my first pollutions which crabs sensitive embedded in my flesh. And that's what I solaza every morning.

The boy challenges me behind his large glasses. And he spits resolved and no further ado: - But who the hell are you? - - And more, he adds, "Who stole the words faces? -
is true, I say, "If in" Angels & Demons "never used such terms,
and contamination, or preambles, and then I think:
- not my God, no!
be that I am, even
also gifted (as well equipped, lol)
the gift of creative writing?
my god my life and my heart, I can not
with both skill and attributes as invaluable compendium of creative! Will there be
to change my name? -

-IV-

I decide to run swiftly to make me a good check, lest
this child croaker and approaching fast paced tribute to both the operator must, in the form and sign relentless galloping alopecia.
Gentlemen, I am a dandy, a modern-man, an illusionist
game of mirrors, this
comes and goes, and I stand but some grafts,
go now, a man like me, high-flying ...

(TO BE CONTINUED)

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There

Sitting, huddled in filthy plastic hospital chair,
trembling, his face blue, her dark eyes
inflated
dried blood on the corner of his mouth, fleshy, not
pain. Only an intense

crackling in his head invades all:
seven frying beef steaks to
blazing sirens wail background while within,
will invade and leave no time to do so

revenge
what is too unfair,
that surpasses imagination.
Who am I to judge?

Gone are the run-up along the waterfront of Havana nights
hunting tourists (as prey)
prawns with removable pants VisaOro
and buying sex. Sometimes
glass beads and a hot meal, beans, and those viejunos bright

"That little panache my love "

're a girl with the body used and lively eyes
then you come to Europe, called the First World
And you keep spending your body
desgastándote
in a provincial whorehouse.

And dream of going to the hands of a distinguished man
linen suit jacket
two with vehement expression,
swollen with social success.
just want to be tall and proud,
like them, distinguished women combed hair salon,
the theater you do not care.

But no customers brothel influential individuals
only vulgar,
(and everything is filthy)
The European Dream
There is only the cutting edge, bright, and the incessant crackle
.

soez.y Food is also rough. I did buy
flaccid forms.
The stylish girl running breezy with pomp
ass on the boardwalk in Havana,
have high cholesterol, trans are the cheapest and the life it creates anxiety.

No, no distinguished men,
and if any, are safe boring. This was funny

What are my love that day at the ball.
Until one day I'll take the neck and press hard
- my black Careful what you do -

you hit in the stomach, something slammed
(the end of the esophagus)
thought that everything was over, but no,
you still had the strength to endure.
A punch, and another,
cares if you do not feel pain, just
sirens and crackling that intense.

flashing sheet on those bodies falling startled,
convulsing,
knife macabre dance of sinking between white coats.
And only then felt calm.

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Thursday


J (sunk back in his chair, bent forward, elbows on knees and hands gripping his temples): It is that never before had brought me where I was ... I never thought what it was that. What were they and we . If you always admired the distancia.Si Catalonia was Barça! The one in my class! As the defending ... Before Ricardo, Eduardo López, Ernesto García. All were Real Madrid and called them Polish. I faced to them every day. Romario had posters in the room and wrote Visca Barca Sociales.También book on the mist from his window on rainy days, in letters reversed, so that you see from the street. I remember my mother told me: "You're crazy! Remove it! to see if they still are going to throw a stone ...-
Veraneábamos in Begur and toasted with Jaume Serra at Christmas.
My grandparents lived here during the war. They fell in love while jumping across rooftops chasing cats to get some protein in the body. My grandmother, at the end of his life, he spoke Catalan at the nursing home where he lived in Valladolid. No, no tinc fred them carers said their childish voice of an angel. And that, after fifty years and a stroke.

(call also stroke)

Finally, we are honest citizens. We pay our taxes and religiously recycle fashion bags green dot ...

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La Encina

walked by that pine forest, arid and dry under the scorching sun
a Castilian end of August.
clothes for the funeral of the late
was not the most appropriate for that raid setting,
than those sandals that let grit and dust, to much longer.

Weeds hooked dry, merciless, the fabric of the pants, penetrating and digging randomly in our legs to walk. River fleas jumped in our way, sharpened by the smell of fresh meat.
walked in silence, looking down,
how robots with a single goal: reaching the oak
about 5 kms from the starting point.

found it, was that , the contour of the pointed cone.
We stopped.
Dad got the tools and he started to open the box,
first with a knife, then
screwdriver and hammer, hitting
thorough
edges trying to pry between the cracks of the container and its lid. That
resisted.

contemplated the scene, inert, stunned, staring
maneuvering,
just waving their hands to ward off the swarm of flies swirling
at that point, attracted by the sweat
sweetness and density of the atmosphere .

I had removed the shirt
thinking about the funeral of the late
N made a timid gesture of help,
and finally gave up the top.

receptacle watched that gray matter
the ashes of my grandmother. Why
always thought of a soft iridescent fine powder? A gust of laughter
I climbed up the throat as vomit:
a loud shriek breaking into the desolation of the withered summer landscape,
hysterical laughter, pathos, it inherited a release of adrenaline


unhealthy I felt a wave of shame when he saw me standing there, saying goodbye to my grandmother
My grandmother's soul,
with ass sweat, almost out

a tit and a halo of flies crowding.

I covered my shame.

refuted the way,
tired and downcast.

Maybe we were not the most conventional family of Castile.
No farewell for days with great pomp,
no funeral or wreaths sublime.
But the oak that stands in the middle of a lost forest punctuated by the Duero,
grim summer, cool and shady in autumn
of my grandfather has the last five years, and now
my grandmother, his beloved wife ,
And his laughter,
thanks, thanks.

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Sucesso

- And I felt the warmth of his hysterical flapping on my foot. Pigeons, rats filthy city increasingly bold-

could hear the metallic sound of the cymbals.
wanted to run there, but I braked
. Scaring pigeons
foot felt secure my self, not to usurp your success
reflection of my failure as a protagonist.
I hate the spotlight

am a spoiled star, and your
sucesso see my frustration as a stellar performer sublime acts. He starred

heroic battles in the bathroom. I have been chosen
of skilled swordsmen
(but always keeping my strong personality, never as fainting princess mouth shut) I gave
later conferences in the mirror mass.
keynote, I lectured for

endless nights before the window glare, passionate, safe, settled by a hearing
delivered.

Awards, entertainment, awards several. Humble smiles, tears in eyes contained excited ...
sincere thanks, a lifetime starring in crap.
One after another, imaginary medals.

hate the spotlight,
am a frustrated actor. Waking up every morning

wrapped.
Preparing food, drinking wine, talking at night

get to a place yet to travel.

extra I paid.
A failed actor.

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The swollen tummies are sexy spring

Since the summer began to emerge timidly
-rays through the clouds partially heated narrow streets between ramshackle buildings, the expectant male pheromone-started to spike. I'm afraid

summer arrives in full, throbbing heat
which crush the crossroads of streets
and thereby ensure the looks of those "macho men" who spend the day posted, indolent,
on each side of streets disoriented. Some guys

embedded in a double pillow in the shredder residue, an unusual action in a neighborhood that transcends even the most miserable piece of wood. The cover, of stars, clean, fill, first, not pellets or roughness or synthetic malformations. The brand new pillow is reluctant to be swallowed by the putrid mouth of the crusher, but they persevere, tenacious in completing such an arduous process. Before emancipated
never imagined that pillows are not cheap pas ...

All eyes become suspicious (or veiled by burning "pheromones" male ") after the disposal of the pillow butterfly in the street.

One, two, three pregnant.
how they affect the stabbing sirens?
The continuous ringing, the smell whiffs of shit?
The suspects trails fringed streets inherent to the pavement, in spite of the great men (and Promujeres) of the BCneta?

Now I have time I would also like pasearme with a good kick. How
said Maria de Medeiros in pulp fiction,
The swollen tummies are sexy.

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If not even want to go dancing surrounded by modern treitañeros if I refers to the dolphins and my people simple
my love and my eyebrows
populated blonde blond head.