The other day when I was working on my paper I came upon the word marihuana, then all of a sudden the light in the room was turned off and I was back on the open and dark streets of Salamanca flanked by towering bulidings, it must be the night that made them actually looked taller. It was around 0200 and we were the few who roamed the city.
No, it's not like what you might have in mind now, there were only 2 of us and we did not smoke that night nor were we drunk, I was just walking her home.
I thought I had forgotten about it completely, but now the images just keep coming back. It's weird feeling. It's not that thinking about the past is weird, but that the feeling the rediscovery of something which one has no conscious memory with brings along is somewhat strange. I always remember the events, but curiously when I tried to remember when and where we met, I just couldn't locate it.
So I put down the books and promptly wrote her an email, but to my dismay, I did not have her address. I sat there staring at those written words and had nothing no my mind. Fuck. That night seemed to be particularly long. The next morning I remembered that she wrote it down somewhere on a paper or on a book I wasn't sure, but one thing was affirmative, no matter where it was it was not with me, in other words, it was back home.
Now how on earth was I able to go back home, in the middle of the final term, just to fetch an email address? Shit. I needed to vent to someone (about something else as well) so I went to Ramón. He suggested that I went home to get it, right now, I'll drive you home. I stared at him with disbelif, your serious or just nuts? I got papers to write! But to my surprise, I couldn't help laughing even though I tried my best to surpress it. So the next thing I knew we were on the highway heading towards home.
There in my LP Cycling France I had what I was looking for. So I dispatched the mail successfully (without the dreadful Delivery Status Notification), which was nearly a week ago. To this moment I still haven't get a reply. But, I guess that doesn't really matter, I've done what I had to and that's it.
That day when he persuaded me to went home was a day worth a celebration because I just crossed the threshold, I freed myself.
No, it's not like what you might have in mind now, there were only 2 of us and we did not smoke that night nor were we drunk, I was just walking her home.
I thought I had forgotten about it completely, but now the images just keep coming back. It's weird feeling. It's not that thinking about the past is weird, but that the feeling the rediscovery of something which one has no conscious memory with brings along is somewhat strange. I always remember the events, but curiously when I tried to remember when and where we met, I just couldn't locate it.
So I put down the books and promptly wrote her an email, but to my dismay, I did not have her address. I sat there staring at those written words and had nothing no my mind. Fuck. That night seemed to be particularly long. The next morning I remembered that she wrote it down somewhere on a paper or on a book I wasn't sure, but one thing was affirmative, no matter where it was it was not with me, in other words, it was back home.
Now how on earth was I able to go back home, in the middle of the final term, just to fetch an email address? Shit. I needed to vent to someone (about something else as well) so I went to Ramón. He suggested that I went home to get it, right now, I'll drive you home. I stared at him with disbelif, your serious or just nuts? I got papers to write! But to my surprise, I couldn't help laughing even though I tried my best to surpress it. So the next thing I knew we were on the highway heading towards home.
There in my LP Cycling France I had what I was looking for. So I dispatched the mail successfully (without the dreadful Delivery Status Notification), which was nearly a week ago. To this moment I still haven't get a reply. But, I guess that doesn't really matter, I've done what I had to and that's it.
That day when he persuaded me to went home was a day worth a celebration because I just crossed the threshold, I freed myself.
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