Cuentos para Kati XVII

I see you came back today with your clothes all wet, upset and angry at everything, are you upset with me as well? I am still happy that you are here with me, I could have get wet with you, run under the rain, but maybe just next time.  I see you are upset, I really don't know why, I don't even know where you go when you leave our home but I am happy to see you again.

I see you came back today, with your face all wet, I have see you like that before, that day he was here with us, he said something, I didn't understand what but then your face was wet. Why are you sad? Maybe you can talk to me, though I am not sure I will understand, but I can lick your hand, would that make you happy? I am happy you are here with me, I just want you to be happy too.

I see you came back today and you closed your door, are you upset with me? I try to talk and ask, but I ended up just making noises you don't understand. I just want you to open the door, Are you not hungry? I can't wait that long without food. I can bring you some maybe, but you said I can't open the fridge again, last time you didn't like the food I left on the floor but I wanted to share it with you, I didn't eat it all. Please open the door.

I see you left home today in a hurry, you didn't have your breakfast, it looks so tasty, can I have it? Would you get upset if I take it? You didn't say good bye to me, I miss the "good boy I will see you tonight" but it is OK, maybe you will say it tonight. I don't care anyway, I will just wait by the door.

I see you didn't come back today, the moon is here but you are not, where are you? The neighbor came and said something but I didn't understand, I think he is upset because I was calling you out loud, but I guess he just heard weird noises. Where are you? I miss you. I will keep waiting by the door. 

The cat asked me, how many days are you going to stay by the door slave? So I just said, I love her, I will always wait.

Cuentos para Kati XVI

I have to tell you this my friend, before I forget. Please let me say it and don't interrupt me, it is important. In a few seconds, I won't remember, my memory will fail again. 

God

I have to tell you this my friend, before I forget. Please let me say it and don't interrupt me, it is important. In a few seconds, I won't remember, my memory will fail again, but this is not in my memory, this is in my soul.

Do you know how many times you have repeated the same sentence? Please just tell me ...

I have to tell you this my friend, before I forget ..

Stop please

and don't interrupt me, it is important. In a few seconds, I won't remember, 

Stop it please, what is what you want to tell me?

I try my friend, some part of me remembers, some times, rarely actually, and I know I have to tell you this quickly but I am actually saying it, and you don't understand it.

What don't I understand?

I forget everything

Yes I noticed 

but I learnt something precious from it, from forgetting. Your present might last longer than mine, mine lasts a few seconds, yours maybe a bit more, but you also have to forget and in the future repeat.

Repeat? 

I have to tell you this my friend, before I forget. Please let me say it and don't interrupt me, it is important.

Repeat ? 

Yes, yes, just as I have been repeating. Do the same, do the same you do in the present, the same you do in the present, when you realize there is no past nor future, the same you do in the present, when you accept yourself as you are, when you don't resent what you think, what you have done, when you accept yourself not because of what you want to be, what you wish to be, what you wish to have or to live, but when you accept yourself because of what you are, with the good and the bad, with the fails and the successes, then repeat, repeat the same in your next present. It is a present you know ..

I have to tell you this my friend, before I forget ....

Cuentos para Kati XV

Why do we have to go mama? It is just a bit chilly, I don't want to go, the worms are so tasty in here plus we could end up eaten if we don't chose properly a place to rest. And it is so far, my uncle told me he got so tired once that he just wanted to land, but the leader of his cluster did not allow it.

My little treasure, soon there will not be enough food for all of us and when we come back you will find a wife and give me grandchildren. We will rest many times, don't worry, change is necessary plus the big fellows will cheer upon our arrival welcoming the season of flowers and beauty. 

But mama, I am so comfortable here, maybe I could stay by myself and you can stay with me, yes, let's stay together, you and I mama. With all of them gone, there will be plenty of food for both of us and we can find a place to warm us up. Father didn't make it. Do you remember? If you both would have stayed, he will be with us now. 

My little treasure, I know you are afraid but why? Everything that was created will pass, there is nothing to fear, your father and I loved each other every moment we shared, I do miss him but that is life, passing, changing.  Our love will live forever, because every moment was filled with it.

But mama, it is so far and so demanding, my small wings will get so tired and sometimes we won't find food either, it is so far, what happen if you don't survive or neither do I?. And then after, few months ahead, we have to go again, to come back here or somewhere else, start again, again and again,  the same, all our lives, I want to stay, to live comfortably and you cannot go and leave me, you have to stay too, I won't go, I won't change.

My little treasure, when I was young, I thought that someday we will find a place to rest for ever, a place where everything will be peaceful, colorful and full with love. We were told that, every one dreamt the same, hope for the same and everyone eventually realized there is no such place, no place to rest for ever, only after life has fled, that is what the wise birds said, but they cannot really know. I was sad when I figured it out, when I saw that in no time, we have to move again, we have to keep dancing with the wheel of time, but your father once told me; he said, dear love, there is only the present, thinking about what was or what will be, makes no sense, we are here and now and that is the only thing that exist, accept change my little treasure, accept it, don't think about it.

No mama, I won't change, I will stay, change is not good, I am good here, there will be food for me and for you too.

My little treasure, We all are one, but each of us is free to do as desired, it is your decision, your responsibility,  your call. You are right, change is not good but change is neither bad, change is, as it is, without labels, change is a constant, perhaps the only one of two constants. Out of those two, none can't be stopped, both can be decided, and the other is the only one that can't change.

What is the other constant mama?

The other constant my little treasure is that I love you, and no matter what you decide, I will always love you. 

Cuentos para Kati XIV

You look at me and wonder, how can I be as I am?, how can I look, the way I look?, why do I look like that? You are certain you should be afraid, you should stay awake, you should stay afar. 

You look at me and wonder if you would survive, if you were to be my friend, if you were to be by my side. You heard I am fast as you are, if you are by my side ,you should slowly move afar, followed by my gentle hiss or  maybe poke at my eyes hoping my jaw wouldn't close at 13 tonnes per square inch. 

The little boy's parents had experience, they heard stories, survivors claiming to know, to understand and all in unison screaming, you better run, but the boy was careless, innocent and rebellious. As the light melted with the passing hours, he decided to escape from his mother's constant watch and his father's advice. What would you say should it happen? Would I lie silently underwater? Observing, peacefully moving, with undisturbed attention and discipline? 

The little boy did not hear the stories, other than from his parents mouths, do you really need to put your finger in the fire? Shouldn't you respect history, other than your own story? Are men doomed, when the past is not acknowledged?  

He did not fear the tough skin, nor the speed or the portrayed cruelty, he did hear the technique but his little fingers could not possibly stop me if I were to decide to strike, if I were to be hungry, if I were not, by my son's side. Should a monster always be a monster? Should violence always win? Well, it certainly does, many times, but not as many times, as it does not. Noise is its only trick, when attachment has decided to let go.

As I heard his mother's screams and the angry look, in his father eyes, gazing upon me, I wonder the reason of their rush, the reason of their agitation. I am not very familiar with fear but what you perceive as violence might be only necessity. But even in necessity, there is always something greater, you know what it is, the same feeling that makes you run, not the times you do it for yourself, but those rare ones you forget you can recognize yourself.  

Are you not scared? His father asked him. Why would you escape from us? Did his mother. The little boy smiled at them and said, history does repeat itself, over and over, but some times, it simply can't, some times love wins. 

As I play with my son, spoiling him in the same way you do, fearing for him more that I would ever do for myself, I realized of something, something you tend to forget, nobody is the same all the time and even monsters melt to the touch of love.

 

Cuentos para Kati XIII

Do you know who am I? If you see me walking by your side, on a rainy day, can you spot me at once? If I say hello to you on a sunny day, would you quickly realize my name?

I have many faces, many shades, but only one name. Most of them came as a result of necessity, adaptation you may call it, evolution perhaps. I wonder which one was the first, which one I was born with. After a while, it is difficult to walk by a mirror and recognizing myself. Hear my voice and claim it my own or simply having a mental picture of what am I, of who am I.

But I am still, I am myself, the way I look resembles the environment, though ultimately I could decide not to, perhaps at the expense of finding myself lost, hurt or to irrevocably die. Will that matter though? If I were to die, will I still be myself?

I have many faces, many colors shaping my fate, which one is me? Which color can I claim to be mine? Which face can I introduce if I want to be loved, if I want to be remembered? If I adapt, I am one more, one more subscribing to the idea of comfort, if i don't adapt, I am one more, though of a much smaller group, one more accepting to lose everything I have been told it matters.

I have many faces, many colors, many shades. Most of the time, I do it to survive, or to be accepted, ultimately to be loved, to keep receiving love's better gift, life. But sometimes, It makes me sad not to know who am I or how to describe properly the idea of myself. I still have the same name, but that was given to me, is it really who am I ? You may call me by my name, even if you don't see me, and even if I don't reply, I still know you are calling for me so I wonder if the answer is that?

I have many faces but I can chose to reply or not if you call my name, since sometimes you can't see me, maybe you wouldn't be offended if I don't reply and if I can decide to respond, maybe I can decide which one am I, which face, which color, which shape, which shade. It is the same with you, it is not? You are not the same you were when you were born, you are not the same you were today, nor tomorrow but you have the same name, so who am I? Who are you?

I have many faces but none of them is who am I, I simply am, I am simply what I decide to be today.

Cuentos para Kati XII

The little boy asked her mother, what are these feelings? my heart pumps faster than ever, faster that when we hunt, faster that when we fear the cold on the days to come, but I feel warm when her eyes cross mine, when I catch her sweet scent from afar.

Oh my sweet boy, I fear for you, the same destiny your father's love brought, his love for me, his love for you. During nine weeks he held you close, so you could rise but the winter was too hard on him. His heart also pumped hard for me, same as did mine, our love brought you home but your father never returned.

The little girl asked her mother, what are these feelings? My heart pumps faster than ever, when I know he sees me from afar, when his smile lights up the strong fog, the winds echoing from afar the poetry of his love, when i know our love will warm us up in the cold days to come.

Oh my sweet girl, I fear for you, the sadness of losing your love, of having it for a second just to let it go. Her husband never returned, his father, the one of that you love. 

My father did, did he not? 

Yes, the winter was merciful but many times it was not, how can you know the one you love will return? And what if he don't, where will your heart go?

What should we do my love? I don't want you to go and never return. What should we do my love? I want to be with you. Will the winter be kind, will fate let me come back to you? 

What would you do? Love is not spoiled but sometimes lets you live, sometimes lets you go, but sometimes not, but one thing is for sure, it will always demand a sacrifice.