and borges was afraid of sex

the other night i was sitting on the toilet, and then i yelled to alexandra,
asking if she´d put me in a movie.

we were spanning time together in her friend´s apartment, they are currently in spain.

mostly it´s where she stays some nights, where i stay fewer than that, and where we act out semi-domestic situations together.

a few minutes earlier she had mentioned that she did the make-up for a commercial on television; i was looking and smoking absently out the window, and i glanced over the t.v. a second too late.

and next i heard her holler that "si", that she would put me in a film. right then i felt my ego skim into some smooth warm vagina, then the rest of my shit slid out, and later on i went home.


*


the term "being in love" is an example of language´s feeble attempt at framing a part of the succession of events that are called reality, and i think there´s an arrogance there, to expect that such a term can be applied equally and thoroughly over a period of happenings or successions that are called a "time".

*

a few weeks ago i went to the demo premiere of an educational video series entitled "ecuador pluricultural", which Alex helped to produce.

the series features the voices of members of various indigenous tribes narrating over video-tape of varying aspects of their daily lives. quite interesting.

during the reception after the video had been aired, i was standing around absently and alone as i often do, and a member of the huaorani tribe attempted to engage me in conversation in a language that neither of our parents spoke.

we were drinking juice.

i think i was able to communicate to him that no, that i didn´t work for audiovisuales don bosco, and that i was, in fact, a student studying spanish in ecuador until the end of may.

he told me some things that i had trouble making out, and he handed me a colorful pamphlet about the huaoroni tribe, in which someone had summarized their plight: the offering of invitations to their community in order to raise awareness about their dwindling resources in the face of ecuadorian governmental expansion.

i stood their for awhile, fondly leafing through the photos of jungle scenes and half-naked folk, and when he was leaving, for reasons i still don´t understand, the amiable man wrote down his number for me on a piece of paper and gave it to me. this confounded my girlfriend as well.

it could have been a huaorani custom, but judging from the pictures in the pamphlet i´d say the huaorani have a less than thriving telecommunications market.

*

a few days ago i came across a very colorful piece of paper showcasing the various indigenous tribes of ecuador, complete with a diagram of their respective provincial ubication. the huaorani, a community of 3,000 people, live in the north-eastern amazon of ecuador, and they speak huao tiriro.

an adult male and female huaorani together with their infant child were represented in a quadro-color near-naked illustration, and, as if the ethno-fires of alterity hadn´t been sufficiently fueled between the huaorani and i, it looked as if the depiction of the huaorani adult male in the illustration was in possession of an erect penis.

i wasn´t positive, though, because their seemed to be a belt-like string spanning the circumference of the huaorani´s waist, which could have been holding up the silo.

i asked alexandra about it, and she said that yes, that the string was holding up the silo. only she didn´t say silo.

so i think i might give that guy a call one of these days, to see what´s up.

i wonder if he drinks beer.

*

i realized a few days ago that i had ignorantly and happily simplified life again, and that the graves of my more difficult and melancholy selves weren´t dug very deep, and that they were only sleeping, anyway.

or maybes these were the selves of others?

welcome back, in any case.