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At the pace of living

The spy shows his heart. "It's time to grow", he has asked us. We are going to burst until we put an end to naivety. We walk, we run forming links with our fingers, we tell the meaning of things, we make them appear, we make them animated; but then comes that adolescent regret that proposes us to express the secrets of similar souls. We swim in sugared water, not like swans, but like ducks that have led us to remember the chocolate donuts on the table, from that room in the floating neighborhood. We get together, we wrap ourselves around the pollen that has gotten into our pupils and makes us see flowers in the wood that separates the river from the grass. We feel tremendous, we think, we cut the oranges and we are sure that we have lost everything. The toys help us to get coins, we disappear the caresses that were missing in the camp, the schools open for us at night and teach us that someone is waiting for us. They're the friends, the lovers, but when we look at the clock it sounds less loud; it can be distinguished among the freshest peppermint, the one that tastes like so and steals our breath when we hear its voice throbbing in our hands. We climb the slides upside down, we sing while eating and we scream for love. At the end of the scolding we like to sit under the cool rain on the porch, full of desire amidst the noise of breathing. We take everything with anguish, but at the moment we have cleared up our minds: we have been distracted by the bubble gum and we lie down on the dry grass of an autumn that is about to leave, at the feet of our companion. Sweat leaves us with the feeling that we are doing something wrong, and we found the answer the next Saturday, when we have thought about how to make the fields purple and the earth cool, in that extreme in which we have reacted among the ducks. We realize that we have failed, because adulthood has caught up with us, and has left us without that mint flavor in the peppermint.*


*translation of an original entry from May 15th, 2020.


Photo credit: Dawson's Creek, Columbia TriStar Television


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