LONDON: One of these past evenings, while having dinner at the embassy, the topic on discussion with G. and M. was why so many writers go for any skirt that passes-by in front of them and have being jumping from one bed to another, from one woman to other, throughout their mature life. One of the questions debated was if we do Love women? The immediately answer that comes to mind would be: Yes/No! A second thought about it and it would be: Yes! But we love ourselves much more; part of our nature of being humans is to search for physical satisfaction and sexual pleasure. So they (women) are just a practical form, a body used in a physical necessity that we have to engage with through life, though! However, what I really would had said, but didn’t said, was that I’m just a man that is all alone in this world, which is looking for someone to be with (as she is), a being that wants to be with me in the same way (as I am), and, together, we can develop a life project in common. We, writers, being beings that expresses abstract ideas in concrete terms are more sensible to the lack of someone walking by our side than other human beings. Since, they, the others, tend to be more practical, more abstract than our way of being. What we do doesn’t mean but is, and it is only through its meaning. “We know now that a text is not a line of words realizing a single ‘theological’ meaning (the ‘message’ of the Author-God) but a multi-dimensional space in which a variety of writings, none of them original, blend an clash.” (Barthes in ‘The Death of the Author’). We’re Man and God! At night, alone in bed, is when, this lack of ‘walking companion’ becomes more bodily overpowering; it makes us to be in a constant, perpetual pursuit of a way to fill our emptiness; to have a warm body embracing our words, thoughts – the practical side. A recent acquaintance reminded me of it when I had to stay and slept at her house, in her bed, intertwining our bodies’ warmness through the night while we recover from strenuous physical exertions with our eyes closed, muscles relaxed and consciousness practically suspended. These moments are when we feel Life! Rather than emptiness!
It is written that throughout my life I will have three women that will pervade intensely my emptiness. The Third, and last, I know who she will be, but not what she will be. The First has been over more than twenty years ago. She has been with me since my youth! More than lovers, we are friends that have gone together through different situations and experience in a particular time of our life, intertwining what we have learned with each other. It was the learning experience period! The Second, which will go from now all over until the end – which will give me the Third - I’ve think, I’m sure, already have met her. How I know? Because I knew who she was before she has had come- and passed-by. When she has gotten-by, I knew! I knew on the First as I know about the Third. It is my expression of an abstract idea in concrete forms. It is just their, project in space, until that human being - the Second - fills the space with her body and it fits like a dream, and then I say, without doubts, ‘You Are The One I Have Been Waiting For’!
There is always a threshold, an in-between from the First to the Second She has become an extremely good friend. In the same way, there will be another threshold in-between the Second and the Third, but it will be from a completely different kind. In the meantime, however, what will happen is that I will continue on to jump from one bed to another, writing rich, unusual and daring small textual exercises after another as a way on to gather pictures that will feel the blank canvas from which life is; fill the emptiness with some small taste of life and to compensate the lack of a embracing harm body that will make me create, later in life, major and more enriching pieces of texts. So, now, that was pass the in-between One and Two! In-between the First and the Second! Is time to be with the Second! But, be aware, ‘geographical distance’ can’t be a value in the proposition.
The idea is not to know her in her infinity, to know her deepest secrets and spending the rest of my life living up to them – for this, I can hire a hacker to get into the Lawyers Firm' dossier about her, go through her bank account, or, then, use the old way, go and ask her neighbors' – it is more, instead, day-to-day process of learning something new about each other; wanting to tell about a line in a book, a frame in a movie, a person or an expression in a conversation by a passer-by; it is about the small things, the everyday life moments that enrich Life. Because out little secret, is that there is not secret at all! Writing a text, painting a canvas, burning a film is an intense personal and private act that is extremely open and public. Its interpretation is what makes those pictures gathered during life unique, private and personal to each one. The way they talk to us – otherwise it would be always an empty medium. At the end the more images we have the wealthier we are.
Getting back into the topic of discussion, my answer was that they - the writers - do have so many women in their life because they don’t Love them!
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