It's fucked up to be dead.

The first impression was frightening, because Paco did not want to die and death came to him, suddenly, without knowing how or why. But the truth is, he was deader than a dried squid.

Without knowing very well why, he could see all that was happening on that fateful day.

His body was there, in the Funeral Home El Último Camino, which had more than three thousand square meters with all the best and latest advances for the living because the dead did not care so much about paraphernalia, the day when worms eat you.

Without thinking about it, he decided to take a stroll around the estancia and was surprised to find himself dead, of course, he had never seen himself like this, lying in a coffin made of Finnish pine, perfectly finished and in his best suit, the black one, with grey stripes that always gave him such a formal look, the matching tie and the black shoes. He approached to see himself up close, and how handsome he was! The morticians had done a good job because he, he had to admit, wasn't so handsome, rather throwing away almost attractive.

He continued his round of reconnaissance, and approached his wife, crying in a corner, stopped for a moment to try and kiss her, but he could not, wanted to touch her, but could not either.

It was fucked up about being dead.

He stood in the center of the room, raised his head to see who had come to see him off. But there were so many people, there was little I could do. But this thing of being dead has its advantages, and just thinking about it, it was seen levitating over the heads of all those who were in the room. He recognized his brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, cousins and cousins, friends and girlfriends. In an isolated chair, he saw Renata who had come so far to say goodbye. Ugh, Renata. Could the dead get horny? No, they couldn't.

It sucked to be dead.

Renata, that female, brunette, with a sensual mouth, with a captivating body, tender kisses and a better lover. She had met her five months ago, by sheer coincidence, while fighting with an ill-mannered taxi driver on a rainy day, which left her stranded in the city of a thousand skyscrapers, while the rain and tears made mascara run. And he went out to the rescue, to the best rescue of his life.

He sat in front of her, looking at her for the last time and remembering her kisses, hugs, caresses and purring cat in heat, but her memories were already a nebula that was dissipating. The murmurs and cries interrupted his dreaming. He got up and saw that everything was over because his precious coffin, his best suit, his best shoes, his best memories and even his best memories were going to burn until they were reduced to the finest ashes.

He sat in the front row, beside his wife and brothers, watching as the fire devoured him like a hungry beast, taking away for ever all that had been before. Now, of him, there was nothing left but a few memories in the living. He tried to remember the words of his writer friend, who was still writing against all odds, that life is a fire and begins with the first breath of life. Yeah, his fire was already out. Now another one started, although I didn't know what it would be like.

Image source: Pixabay

Pez globo gigante

No pude resistirme a sacarle una foto a este pez globo gigante que está en un centro comercial de Las Palmas de Gran Canaria.

Fósil vegetal II

Siguiendo con la serie de fósiles vegetales que me encontré en los ladrillos de un centro comercial, aquí les dejo otra fotografía que saqué ayer, en la que se ve, claramente, el dibujo de una planta.

The untouchables and the miserable

For some businessmen and politicians, society is made up of untouchables and miserable people. I can understand that. For them, the untouchables are those who are part of the economic and political power that are above the procedures that are articulated to bring to a successful conclusion the equidistant application of justice.

And the wretched ones, from their particular point of view, are the rest of mortals, who, when they have an account of justice, have no choice but to comply with the injunctions, whatever they may be, and they seriously endure their own sail, navigating, hopelessly, against the wind and tide and, in some cases, the seafood.

These characters, the untouchables, of course, when they are touched by the robes of the Law, move heaven and earth to prevent them from being brought before the judges and always come to the easy, but very Machiavellian way out, to say that they are being persecuted by I do not know what factual powers that only seek their personal, professional and political discredit.

Some have even complained about the treatment and ways in which they have been brought before the Law, and have denounced their situation, using all their media weapons to defend what cannot be defended, arguing that this state of affairs will undoubtedly lead us to economic bankruptcy because investors are fleeing in fear of this scenario.

It should be remembered that when a judge makes the decision to take a person to court, he does not do so because he got up that morning in a certain way, but on the basis of facts and evidence from police investigations, and not on a morning whim.

Even some businessmen and politicians who have been brought before the courts of justice feel annoyed by the forms, arguing that it could have been done in another way. But these businessmen, these politicians and some of those who have expressed their opinion on this issue forget that the courts of law must, above all, ensure compliance with the law. Judicial decisions are considered, assessed and taken into account in many ways. Even, going further and not to hurt susceptibilities, that when they stop people, who are part of the rest of mortals -the miserable ones- they are not less taken into account.

Justice, my lords, is the same for everyone, whether we like it or not, whether we have more or less money or more or less power. If justice were to make distinctions, it would have long ago lost the fabric that covers its face, but thanks to our democracy, it continues to function independently, even if some people try, whether active or passive, to twist this principle.

Image source: Pixabay

Ya tengo tus huesos

Ya tengo tus huesos de pozo y luna oscura,
los olvidados en las crónicas amarillas de los azules,
los enterrados en el silencio de la oscuridad de la barbarie,
los escondidos por las manos asesinas.

Ya tengo tu cráneo,
con dos agujeros negros que se tragaron tu futuro y tu sonrisa,
con dos ojos cerrados para siempre,
con dos orificios de rabia y ceguera,
con dos impactos para callar tu palabra libertaria.

Ya tengo tu recuerdo,
aquel que quedó en las fotografías del blanco y negro,
aquel que me entregaron con palabras eternas,
aquel que construí con el agua de los pozos de esperanza.

Ya tengo un lugar donde enterrarte,
allí, donde siempre crecerán las margaritas silvestres,
alejados de los pozos oscuros, de las simas y de las cunetas,
un lugar para descansar de la sinrazón de los monstruos,
donde esculpirán tu nombre con el cincel de la justicia.

Ya tengo tus huesos; ya se hizo justicia.

Fuente de la imagen: propia

Esperando por mejores tiempos

Siempre esperamos mejores tiempos para navegar.

We always expect better sailing times.

I arrived at the hotel on schedule, after almost ten hours of flight. While I was waiting for my reception, I thought of the meeting that was scheduled for the next day at 10 a. m. and that I had time to rest a little and read the contract documents for the umpteenth time.
Then I saw an orange fish that was in a fishbowl at the reception desk and next to it a small sign saying:

Alone in your room and you want company? Rent a fish. 3,5 €/night.

I spent a few seconds reflecting on what the managers of the hotel chain would be thinking to offer a fish as a companion animal, perhaps because it was aseptic. If I had to choose an animal, I would choose a dog or perhaps a cat or a ferret, but a fish?
Then I thought that, if the renting of the fish was a subliminal message from the hotel chain against prostitution, because it is well known that, in the big Asian cities, where businesses of all kinds are closed, there is a large market, very profitable, connected with prostitution.
I didn't give the matter any more thought and when the receptionist took care of me, after giving him my personal details, I rented the fish. She smiled at me and told me that they would take it along with the suitcases.
Already in the room I took a shower, got dressed and went down to dinner. Already in the room I took a shower, got dressed and went down to dinner. After dinner I went to the hotel bar to drink a 20 year old rum. I deserved it. Without my job, the contract we were going to sign the next morning would never have been closed. While I was drinking the rum, I realized that there was a woman who kept an eye on me and smiled at me. She was dressed like an executive, she was a brunette with very short hair. I continued to enjoy my drink, until the brunette approached me, left the briefcase on the floor and said to me in a tired voice:

"In your room or mine?"

I stayed a few moments without knowing what to answer.
"We have spent more than half an hour with complicit glances and smiles. I am very tired. I've had an exhausting day. I haven't stopped since ten in the morning. One meeting after another and I'd like to relax a little bit. I've been watching you since you walked in and I like you. You want some more explanation?"
"No, I don't want any more explanation. It's just that this is the first time something like this has happened to me. I'm not used to it."
"You are not accustomed to us women being the ones to take the initiative and perhaps you prefer a period of flirtation, but I really do not feel like it. I want to have my last drink and then fuck a little bit and then go to bed. Tomorrow I have an equally or more hard day ahead of me. This is my last proposal. I'll tell you, I don't usually do this. If I remember correctly, this is the second time I've done it. The first one was in Sydney, a few years ago and I liked the experience. What do you say?"
"Well, let's have a few drinks and then we'll see. Okay? All right?"
"Okay, I see you're old school. Shall we go to your room or mine?"
"I don't care."
"For in yours then. Give me about 20 minutes to go to my room and take a shower and drop off my stuff. Which room are you in?2
"721 st."
"Perfect. Order me a gin-tonic with a little slice of lemon."
"Okay. I'll wait for you."
"By the way, my name is Carmen, although everyone knows me as Carmela."
"Nice to meet you, Carmela. My name is Juan Alberto."
"I like your name. See you in a few minutes, Juan Alberto."
I finished my rum, as I watched the brunette get lost in the hotel lounge heading for the elevators.
Then I went upstairs, ordered another rum for myself and a gin and tonic for Carmela. As I waited, I stared for a moment at the fish I had rented and thought that in the end I was not going to spend the night alone with him, but with a magnificent company.
Carmela and I spent a night of scandal, drank and had sex as if there were no tomorrow, until we fell asleep. A wild and unforgettable night.
When I woke up Carmela was gone. He didn't leave me his cell phone number or even a miserable note.
I took a shower, got dressed and before leaving the room I looked at the orange fish that was swimming, placidly, in the thirty square centimetres of its tank. I thought of the €3.5 I had spent on his rent that had been wasted, just to increase the hotel chain's profit and loss account.
However, a month after I was at home, I received my credit card statement and there was a charge I recognized, but it wasn't at all in accordance with the amount.

Rent a fish: 503,50 €.

I thought it was due to a mistake and I knew that my company would not take care of that expense, because it only paid for the room and board.

Without giving him much thought, I called the hotel to ask the reason for this exorbitant figure.

I had to speak with a nice lady who listened attentively to my complaint. Then he told me that this was an extraordinary service offered by the hotel, which not only consisted of renting the fish in question, but that, by renting it, I would accept a flirting game with a lady of company and that I would only be charged to my account, if that flirtation went further, as it did with Carmela.

I told her, outraged, that I remembered that I signed the rental document for the fish, but that nowhere was there any talk of the game she was telling me about. The woman, in a charming tone, told me that I had not read the fine print at the end of the document she had signed. She was absolutely right; I hadn't read it.

When I hung up the phone I was almost determined to denounce the hotel, but I remembered Carmela and that spectacular night. I smiled. I told myself that, in the end, it was the money best spent €503.50 in a very long time and only live once and so I let it run.

Image source: Facebook