Soulmate secrets

La vida esta llena de mierda, y trato de vivir lo mas trashy posible con mis amigos, mi familia, mis estudios, mi trabajo, mi conexión con la Luz y mi tiempo libre. En esta semana o mes –a pesar de ser un mes que odio- la Luz me ha ido llenando la vasija y el oponente se ha retirado poco a poco.

Tengo un amigo de Mérida llamado Erick con el cual me podría casar inmediatamente, es inteligente, bitchy, simpático, mi amigo Gilberto es una de las personas mas ocurrentes de las que puedo hablar: culto, estudioso, divertido. Mi amiga Yara por Dios!!! Es lo mas trashy que pueda existir, Ernesto Hernández ejemplo de disciplina y Roger Ruiz (aunque el no lo sepa) uno de los mas grandes cabalistas que conozco son otras personas con las cuales podría vivir sin ningún problema ¿Y que puedo decir de Jorge Pedro? Inteligente, sarcástico, hijo de la chingada, sobreviviente, luchador y me pone en mis limites el desgraciado.

Las cortinas de mis meditaciones se están abriendo hoy con gusto abrí un mail de una persona que en definitiva tiene su esencia personal como individuo, pero es un mail, el tipo de mail que un trashy puede esperar. Al parecer la LUZ esta llegando y Gil, Erick, Yara y Jorge pueden entender que el siguiente mail es algo que le puede partir la madre a un trashy cómo yo.

Si, la vida es difícil pero son estos momentos lo que a uno lo hacen conectarse con el creador. Muchas gracias, es la carta mas trashy y maravillosa que he recibido en mucho mucho mucho tiempo:

Offer Nissim, Manolo Egghead, South Park, Geishas, and something I can't resist.

The weirdest, funniest, wildest, most electrifying weekend of the year, so far.

It all began with my coming back from Toluca. I was so sick of being in such an unexciting city that the chilango inside me was pleading for Underground, smog and tumultous people (though, fancy those undending hours of wireless internet abed). I just feel different, like being someone else, or even like being Gollum. Bipolarity, perhaps. That's the effect the city has in me. My friends wouldn't recognize me. Also, as soon as I woke up that day I found myself hooked in a rather enthralling conversation that unfolded via SMS. Simple, smart dialogues that really caught my attention and made me wonder who in the ruddy blazes was on the other side of the line.

As soon as I got here, I had envisioned my plans: attending Living to see Offer Nissim scratch and mix his way through the night. The chance was too good to miss out. I had to be there, alas, someone was expecting me. You see, it was "the" night at "the" club with "the" DJ. There was a lot of hype round it. I mean, I love the guy's music, but, was he good enough mixing live?... I just had to figure it out. I'd have loved to have Marco and Christian join me, but the first was exhausted (my bro had been sick all week long) and the second was out of funds and had been late to make a necessary phone call to save me a good chunk of cash. Anyhow, I made my way to Reforma. The night was chilly and though as wrapped in clothing as I was, I kind of foresaw the steaming sauna the club was going to be once inside.

Offer began to play at midnight. Curse it! I arrived there at almost 1:00 AM and I had to wait almost an hour to get in. The crowd waiting outside was enormous, like a peaseant lot pleading for hot soup and bread. That guy, Angel, he had to be the most adored, praised, hated and loathed person in the entire city. He had the power to decide whether you could enter or not. Next time, I had to get the hang of the club's publicists. I met some "mateys" and the queue but none took mercy of me to let me in sooner. I calculated my chances and I sent the one who expected me a message using someone else's phone, for (blimey), the weird conversation had depleted my mobile's credit. You came out, dialed me asking where I was and told Angel to let me in. But he wouldn't listen. You struggled a bit, but Angel wasn't about to change his mind. 20 minutes later, with a full bladder, sore feet, a bit of hope but a quite a good load of determination, I found myself inside, 250 MXP less, and wearing a big, smugging grin.

After a while, checking out the place for FKF (Friendly Known Faces), I saw you face to face. The one to whom I've been sending messages all day long. The one who've made me laugh my buttocks off with a few, calculated words.

The one at the other side of the wireless line.

You introduced me to your friends. One stood out particularly for being pretty bombed. The other seemed unaffected by the hypnotic, deafening beats. You, apparently, were rather cold at me but, that also didn't matter. At first, anyway.

Everyone was there. Tout le monde. It was almost impossible not to try dancing and stepping into someone else's foot. I even saw some undesireable entities but it didn't matter. I was there to enjoy myself, the music and my friends (would I find any, that is). How exciting was to dance to First Time, mixed live by the author himself. Especially, the minute between 3:32 and 4:38 in the original track's length, has to be the greatest and best minute in house electronic music history. Period. It's simply electrifying. And with the audio equipment the club boasts... Living is fairly enough the best club in the capital city. And then, the israeli pulled out some amazing mixes of Madonna's latest work... God. It was audible ecstasy. An orgasm through the ears. Neither me nor anyone had to touch me to make me feel that way. Offer Nissim has to be commended for that: my first, non physical cumming. Hell yeah. Kampai.

My attention and thoughts returned to you when the song ended. I felt you differently. Closer. I saw you under another kind of light. Une perspectif différent. But, then, the nature's cryout assaulted me and had to run for my sake to the toilet. After I left my bodily burdens away, I got entertained by three RFKF (Really Friendly Known Faces) and stopped by to chat a bit and get a little wild and naughty with dear Bianca.

Afterwards, in the myriad of sweaty, doped and lustful bodies, I lost you. "Wheredidyago?" I rythmically wandered the club Searching for you. Not to be seen, I sort of resignated myself to be alone again and joined the bulging crowd in the main room. Couldn't move an inch to dance. I got annoyed perhaps too soon, and resumed my search. My mobile began to ring.

Message: I'm in front of Offer, from the Pop section to your right.

As simple and clear as the message could be, I couldn't understand it. I was dazed and confused and I simply found myself unable to follow the bare directions. The phone rang again. This time, it was a call, but it was useless. Too much noise, there was no way to listen. This, happened three times. I began to feel desperate.

After a while, we were face to face again. This time round though, it was completely different. The chemistry had begun to work and without questioning, arguing, asking and no sign whatsoever beforehand, we kissed. And what a perfect backdrop: the music so intense, the heat prickling us, the colourful lightning, the hormone filled air... The tasting session left my head swimming.

Dance.
Kiss.
Kiss again.
Dance and kiss.
Kiss and dance and carressing.

Though I would have loved to keep dancing, my mind demanded privacy alongside you. The mental pleading proved efficient.

"¿Quieres venir a mi casa?"
You needed not to ask twice.

You almost passed away as your friends drove us home. "You know, a car ride makes me sleepy..."

But as soon as we were at your place, clothes went off slowly, even shyly, but in a determined sort of way. Your straightforwardness surprised my attitute and unexperienceness. Your skin was extremely soft to touch and I couldn't resist to your positively sexy tatoo in your back. I almost kissed your every corner and then, fell asleep.

At my waking, I felt at ease. Comfortable. Our barefeet could be seen outside the sheets. We talked. The subject is something I can't recall any longer but I do remember I enjoyed seeing you laughing at Manolo Cabeza de Huevo. You called upon Gilberto. We laughed again at Manolo and his rather weak patience. We broke our fast with tacos de barbacoa y consomé.

Nous somme a vivre a vie simple. Trés simple.

And I enjoyed it. We spent our afternoon laughing at stupid things, making prank calls to Roger. Watching South Park. I couldn't care less for everything that might have been troubling me. Monica joined us, and went to see Memoirs of a Geisha. What a significant film to see, while holding hands. It was cute. Deteminatedly romantic. Never left you from my grasp.

We slept together again, after roaring of laughter at a stupid movie on MTV. It was a dreamless sleep. You had to depart before dawn, and I felt just fine when we said goodbye. I didn't know when it was going to be the next time I'd see you but I didn't despair.

You have had taken all possible trace of emptiness from me.
Couldn't wait to see what would happen next.

Muchas gracias, me acabas de confirmar que la metafísica es maravillosa y prácticamente mágica, que todos esos estudios con el Rav Berg no han sido en vano, tu transformas mi vida de manera muy cabrona Y ESPECIAL, gracias.