FB

Last Friday I went to the nearest cybershop in this crazy city. There I spoke to Angel and we arranged to meet on Sunday, when I´m suppose to clean and get updated the server of that shop. There were some empty seats and I marveled why, because many were working or getting ready for their dates to go out. I needed to check my emails and that stuff I don´t do on my slow phone. Within some minutes, I noticed some of the things a nice looking blond chubby child was doing at my right. By the moment I came in, He was playing counterstrike on line but, after half an hour, he had his facebook account opened, and I saw how his mate was helping him from his right.

“Tell her this! And write that...” Told a thin teenager on the row, while I checked my on-line stuff.

It was a funny time. I like to go there because it is not a noise place and the air conditioner works at ease. I teach them often how to keep the machines working and I have learner there several things I enjoy now.

“Accept her! Don´t let her go”. Said my neighbor´s friend to the child.

Suddenly, as large as the thin young boy is, he came to the boy´s keyboard and helped the chubby child to write messages into facebook.

I couldn´t stop myself from looking straight to the screen to see what was going on that play. Quickly I notice this blond fat boy had several invitations to a friendship, so I recommended him to accept the all.

He was reluctant!

-This is ugly! I don´t like her. Look at her face! He said.

Then, I quickly told.

-Look at you, first! You´re not thin or tall. You may have your nice looking face, but you don´t need to despise people the outside appearance... Are they asking you to be married? Ha! Ha!

-No! No! But I don´t like these.

He had more than 15 invitations. I had no idea what made him to be so popular in there or out there, but the very moment reminded me how I was at that age, the things I did wrong, some people I hurt.

-Look at me boy! -I said-. At this age is rare someone smiles at me. When you grow old you would grow cold, and few people would care about you. Do you want to be alone? Is it fare you dismiss them that way? Let´s make a deal! Those you don´t want or like, SEND THEM TO ME!

The other guy was laughing at my childish way to arguing with the kid. I saw those pictures I dare to check and insisted on.

-If you don´t like that girl, ask her mother write to me!

-NO! I don´t like her face.

-Does her face tell you how she is?... I wish I knew if her mother is single or divorced. Ha! Ha!

There were many things said. I wish I could have a video or an exact record of the things I say when seriously kidding.

Suddenly two young girls came in to shop. These aren´t older than 25 and the clerk is very popular with one of them.

-¡Edwin! Dános par de máquinas, por una hora... (Give us two PCs for an hour).

These girls came wearing tight shorts, which is the “sexy” fashion for fat or nice looking girls here. They´re thin, young and single; but it wasn´t my chance to “pulling the legs”, as British people could say. (He! He!)

While I was uploading some pics on Netlog, I perceived these two newcomers started to draw more attention than usual. They were shouting and talking about their impressions on FB and, of course, I was far enough to see those things clear; but they wanted full attention, so many of us turned faces to see and hear.

Half of the chat room paid attention on those girls, including me. I said a couple of funny things at random and laughed at their expense; but I kept my place with the kids, and were whispering things about them. They said a couple of nasty words. They shouted and needed more of the usual attention because they think they are alive, desirable (I don´t trust too much on appearance).

Where do I come from?

The chubby boy reminded me that one whom I was, the man I must watch and beware of. He is honest, clean as many children, and has the same standards I once got.

I liked the way his nearer friend helped him to reply those girls who wanted his personal friendship, but those kind words belonged to another and, being fair, that friendship belongs to another; since the chubby boy do not care, but for body beauty (I would care for it, if I planned to re-marry) :P

Youth gives us some fancy ideas that took time for me to change. There we believed childish things that keep on coming, sticky ideas hard to get rid of, but life is not real life unless we see things the way we should.

I remember how I looked at the people of my age. I remember some words I said and the ideas I got when being a teenager or a man of 30. Some things remain the same. My eyes are alive and my mind thinks she is living, but I know all the truth is on God, our Creator.

I´m happy I have met good people. I learn from those who freely share their life and it is interesting how written words can bring joy or healing to those who seek. No everybody is willing to give his/her best; but many writers have done so: Goethe... Desmond Morris, Pilar Sordo and dozens who never expected anything in turn. (May God bless ALL of them).

I´m sure many people will recover to live their life. I´ve known some who helped me when I was sad, bitter in sorrows, during the process of my divorce, and God sent them as “rescue party” (no names mentioned in here).

Pornography serves for nothing. Social sites are not better (or worst) than real people, but we cannot live totally isolated.

An urban hermit needs to interact with him and his humanity. We cannot know God if we don´t know people. They serve us like mirrors, and they show what they´ve got and what we are (and here is where any starts to make his/her amendment).

I clearly remember how I was in high school. I have some memories, on those things certain girls told about me, and sometimes I wish I could come back to tell them I was wrong or they were wronged.

Perhaps, I don´t know, there would be a time to tell them “I´m sorry!”. I did this or that and I was wrong. “I hurt you”, “I liked you”... and life was self-seeking, I lived in a rush, that I had no time to make the best choices nor to think them twice.

Yes!

Perhaps, one day in eternity, there would be that time to amend, to bring some joy; but last week I met one of those classroom mates who have forgotten me (I don´t really care! But it is factual and true). There are more than 30 years. I don´t remember her name, but her face; and I had to tell her some names to help her recover the memory. She said she acknowledged she studied at the same place I was and, of course, I don´t remember having misbehaved, but that taught me memory fades, some things are unimportant, and some people can help you to back up where your are lost, with pieces of their collective memory: I kept pieces they loved or hated. I keep what I made mine, same way as they´ve got theirs.

The mind is interesting. I have no way to say my mind is my soul. There is no “scientific” way I can prove one thing against the other; but I know both are mine, in one body.

What about the people I met yesterday? They would grow old, and not cold. Perhaps one may think she (or he) is glowing like a star, but they will find the way... (and this is not in faKebook).

Today (Saturday, May 25th) before I publish this note, I was walking a crowed street while returning my mother´s. I was asking the prices for paint and some materials while I noticed a short woman in front of me. She took too long to keep on walking and I saw she had a big burden on her shoulders. I thought she was about to be fainted and I asked if I could possibly help. The man in front of her insisted on her behalf, so I kept on asking why she was carrying alone stuff.

“I have no one to help me!”. She weakly said, re-starting to breath.

“I´m sure, as soon as go get home, there would be people who are willing to “help” when you prepare this food.” I replied.

-They give me the money to buy food, but nobody comes.

-Ask them to buy you a slave, instead. It´s better, for your back and health, that you buy anything to carry this heavy load. You don´t deserve this!

After this chat, I noticed her release. I hardly could move the load she was bearing (it was near to 30 Kgs) and took it to the bus stop, where I left her.

How many times we have missed real people, or chances, to help others while bypassing real situations?

She is about 60 and I´ve helped a couple like this. Their children or relatives enjoy their life, while these are left alone, and all forgotten.