Tuesday, July 23, 2019

Como hemos cambiado...

Juan Luis Gimenez / Sole Giménez

Ah! Cómo hemos cambiado
qué lejos ha quedado
aquella amistad.

Así como el viento lo abandona todo al paso,
así con el tiempo todo es abandonado;
cada beso que se dá, alguien lo abandonará.

Así con los años unidos a la distancia,
fue así como tú y yo perdimos la confianza;
cada paso que se dio, algo más nos alejó.

Lo mejor que conocimos,
separó nuestros destinos
que hoy nos vuelven a reunir;
tal vez si tú y yo queremos
volveremos a sentir aquella vieja entrega. Ah! Cómo hemos cambiado
que lejos ha quedado aquella amistad.
Ah! ¿qué nos ha pasado?
cómo hemos olvidado aquella amistad.

Y así como siento ahora el hueco que has dejado
quizás llegada la hora vuelva a sentirte a mi lado
tantos sueños por cumplir, alguno se ha de vivir.

Lo mejor que conocimos,
Separó nuestros destinos
Que hoy nos vuelven a reunir;
Tal vez si tú y yo queremos
Volveremos a sentir aquella vieja entrega.

Ah! Cómo hemos cambiado
Que lejos ha quedado aquella amistad.
Ah! ¿qué nos ha pasado?
Cómo hemos olvidado aquella amistad.

Monday, July 15, 2019


In the list of stories perhaps I should not tell you... there is the one about a young girl named Gabriela – I called her Gaby... she was fourteen... I was seventeen...

No... I shouldn't... but it is a story pacing those dark halls in my mind – like the restless phantom whispers I should have let loose on Carmen... or Veronica... seductions wrapped up in too much truth that I never would have been able to escape the severity of it's reality... but I did escape – didn't I... though... not with out scars.

And those un-whispered words... they howl in madness some nights... they cry out in pain and anger... and the anguish and regret have me turning over the furniture... in my drunken fury... I slam chairs against the walls and bring down the book cases like a raging angel on the day of the slaughter... I kick in doors and smash the mirrors... I throw computers across the room and laugh the way I would laugh if I was a misunderstood writer abandoned by the muse... and I collapse to the floor like those hundred little pieces of plastic and silicone that was my laptop... all because the whispers I never whispered can not find a home... and I refuse to let them wander the rest of the palace of madness that is what is left of my mind...

And when I get tangled up in the chaos of my discontented memories and the unconquered desires of my youth... drowning in a hurricane of cheap tequila... making bargains with vagabond spirits in the candle light for a little inspiration to get me through the night... demons more than enlightened celestials who would rather see me burn for all eternity in the pits of Hell for the way I played the game – if nothing else... but for nothing less than the love's I carelessly brushed aside as I slipped into the shadows of another meaningless affair... they lend no helping hand or offer any comforting words – these cast away spirits - worthless in their own faith and so lacking in dreams of glory that Lucifer himself has no use for them... but they linger in my study... laughing and barking at me in the dark... cursing me and taunting me...

But somewhere in those howls... I hear her... somewhere down the hall... in one of those empty rooms I here her singing – the same songs she sang all that summer... so many summers ago... and I can smell the lotion on her skin... and even if I catch a whiff of it these days on other young girls... their beauty and youth do not compare to the thrills of that summer... that summer of Gaby and the songs she sang in the heat of 1986.

It was my first summer and my last... that summer that could not end... the one you cannot let go... and you... my friend... know exactly what I am talking about... I know you have a summer just like that calling out to you too... waiting for you in the madness of your memories... It was my first summer and my last... the only one that counts – it was the beginning of my dreams and would greatly shape me into the man I would become – though I was far from discovering that back then... it was the end of the boy and the rise of the man... it was Gabriela... and she is the reason why I ended up choosing the roads I chose as a young man – she started the fire... she was the spark that lit the flame... and no one has ever heard this truth until now... but the story... is so personal and filled with unforgivable passion... it is best left wandering in the silence... but... I won't deny it... and... as it turns out – neither will she.

Gabriela was the angel of temptation – the muse rising from the ruins of my rebellion... my salvation from the storm... but... she was also the tempest... and I wont tell you that it was love... on my part or hers... neither one of us had any illusions of innocence about the other... nor were we chasing it or in a rush to throw away what we had left... but neither one of us was really sure just how much we wanted to know about the world outside the garden... unfortunately... the world found us.

Gabriela's family was from the city of Chihuahua in Mexico and she was in El Paso for the summer with her cousins. She was always with a group of people and she would show up every where... at the pool, at the park, at the movies... at the MacDonald's and at every house party and warehouse party we could get into- she was there with her click of preppies... I miss those 80's preppies – we called them “frezas” in Spanish.

She was always snapping photos with some camera - a Leica or a Polaroid and she was the best dressed girl of the whole damn decade... she looked like a pop star – the girl next door type pop star – I can't exactly recall the first time I started noticing that she was popping up everywhere but she had spotted me first – I was in her collection of photos before we started chatting... she was the one that put the idea of modeling and acting in my head – something I did pursue... but that's another story...

That summer I had began to hang out with a Latin crew – when I was not with my usual gang I was with these other kids from Mexico who I went to school with that stayed in El Paso for that summer and eventually that crew and Gabriela's merged... funny thing is that even when I was out by myself I would end up running into the girl - and she would be on her own too... look, neither of us had time to waste that summer and we hooked up quickly... don't even know how it happened... we became a thing... I never introduced her to my regular gang – they knew nothing about her but she of course knew who they were... because she was everywhere that summer... and thinking about it, they had to know who she was – she was the “it girl...” but they did not know about her and I... (I don't think... ), but everyone on the Latin side knew and some where not too thrilled about it... one of Gabriela's cousins had major problems with me for whatever reason but we never found out what and why... so we stopped caring about it... and we carried on with this thing we had that we never defined and we never labeled or classified and never even talked about – and when others brought it up Gabriela and I would pretend to not know what anyone was talking about... but really – we did not try to hide it... what ever it was... because sometimes the moment was too much for us, or we would be lost in it... perhaps I should just stop there... before we get trapped in the severity of the reality of it...

I would see her from time to time after that summer for a few years – even after I started dating Elsa – I would see Gabriela every where we went – we would not speak... but would let ourselves get lost in the gaze... trying to find an echo of that summer somewhere in the madness of this new world we were trying to navigate through with out that Spandau Ballet soundtrack that played in the background of our affair... or those old friends that were there to keep us from drowning in the insanity of that thing that - might have turned into love – had the summer lasted just a little bit longer...

She married when she was twenty... they are still together.

She said I could tell that story... but knows that no-one outside of that gang... will get it... because that summer was ours.