(short short story hidden away in a notebook, translated)
Walking
down the street, one of those moments where nothing is going to be
done, like picking up food, walking the dog, or just walking, you look
next to you and next to the wall is an old hardback book, worn. You
could have ignored it, you were going to in fact, but curiosity born
from nothing to do stops and moves you. You pick up the book and open it
in the middle but you end up at the beginning, just after the preface,
and it captivates you, you never read anything so interesting, not that
you care much about books, in fact you're not much of a reader, but you
feel convinced that, even if you did, this book would be the best thing
you'd ever read, by far.
The words pull ever strongly the words
following. Seven hours pass in an instant until you finish the book, you
walked very far, at a very slow pace, you recognize your surroundings,
it was really far, how didn't you realize? You turn the page to the
prologue: three empty pages. And in the final page it only says, in
large print: "Now leave me somewhere so that another will read me".
You leave it. Someone took it.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Scene 05
(random script I made inspired by an ugly fat laundry lady)
STREET, CAFÉ, MORNING, OUTSIDE
An old beggar is yelling in the middle of the street.
STREET, CAFÉ, MORNING, OUTSIDE
An old beggar is yelling in the middle of the street.
BEAUTIFUL PAGAN BEGGAR
The only reason we stick together is because we're not killing eachother!
CAFÉ, ESPLANADE
RACHELA
and ALICE are sitting in opposite chairs on a café table smoking, ALICE
has a straw hat on and both are wearing lady's summer sunglasses.
GUILLERMO is walking in the street with a serious puzzled face. He sees
the girls and heads towards them with a steady pace. Then he stops in
the middle of them.
ALICE
(to RACHELA, with a quick roll of the eyes to the side) Guillermo is coming.
GUILLERMO
Ladies, may I sit with you for a minute, I have something to talk about with you. (sits down)
Today I went by my laundry lady, who I know has been fancying me with
her long looks, passed by and I said to her "Hello, good morning, how
are you, listen, I want you to give me a blowjob."
RACHELA
lets go a bewilderingly amused little laugh. ALICE follows suit and
releases a more subtle one, although less bewildered and less amused.
ALICE
(containing laughter, straining) What happened?
GUILLERMO
She looked at me and froze for half a minute straight. Then she breathed out and looked around. (he alternates looking at both girls) The
was no "around" of course, not at that time of day. I blinked my eyes
longly and longingly. I remember that. Then she looked at the edge of
the room, then she looked at the storeroom, then she looked at the
bathroom at stayed there looking tense. I looked at the bathroom, looked
back at her, took her hand gently and guided her to the bathroom, she
followed as if she was a blind person. I got naked and she started
sucking my dick. Now, this wasn't a young woman, I mean, she wasn't old
but she was in her late thirties, curled blue hair and big ball blue
eyes, word face and a tad overweight. She had her tits out by the way
and, well, not and impressive woman, and I'm being kind.
Anyway,
I came in her mouth and, as if woken up, pulled my pants back up,
looked around a bit without seeing anything, then walked calmly to the
exit door [puzzled face in the flashback shot], stopped, walked back, took one of the laundry's business cards. (wide-eyed) I don't know, maybe if I wanted to call her? Then stepped outside and went about my business-
RACHELA
(grinning, doing that thing with her hand, cooly) Wooow...
ALICE
So have you called her yet
GUILLERMO
(looking in front not at them) No.
ALICE
Are you going to? When did this happen?
GUILLERMO
Oh,
just a few minutes ago, I think it's maybe too soon to decide so I'm
going to have to think about it, but right now I've got to go to work,
so... (while getting up) See you ladies, I've got (kisses RACHELA on the cheek) to go (kisses ALICE on the lips), oh, but later lets go out for drinks, yes?
RACHELA and ALICE nod acquiescently. GUILLERMO exits the shot stage right. RACHELA and ALICE turn to each other and smile.
ALICE
Amazing. (she sips her tea)
Fade to black.
The Bed
(From 2013, idea from an animation short story, unmade, translated)
Today I woke up and I wasn't me, I was my bed. I don't know who is me in my stead now but my body keeps getting up by it's self and going about with his life. He gets dressed, watches television, eats and sleeps on me. I really have no clue who he thinks he is but he makes no issue at all of me. After all I'm just a bed to him. Come to think of it, I never payed much attention to my bed, except when changing the sheets. How did this happen? Could I have swapped consciousness with my bed? Since when do beds have a consciousness? Or, my spirit was duplicated and I was expelled from my body to make way for the new version of me. Or maybe I'm the replica. But that doesn't explain why I'm now a bed.
Maybe there are all pointless questions since I'll never know. I don't even have any way to communicate. And there is nothing in the world that shows any inkling that anything has changed at all.
Today I woke up and I wasn't me, I was my bed. I don't know who is me in my stead now but my body keeps getting up by it's self and going about with his life. He gets dressed, watches television, eats and sleeps on me. I really have no clue who he thinks he is but he makes no issue at all of me. After all I'm just a bed to him. Come to think of it, I never payed much attention to my bed, except when changing the sheets. How did this happen? Could I have swapped consciousness with my bed? Since when do beds have a consciousness? Or, my spirit was duplicated and I was expelled from my body to make way for the new version of me. Or maybe I'm the replica. But that doesn't explain why I'm now a bed.
Maybe there are all pointless questions since I'll never know. I don't even have any way to communicate. And there is nothing in the world that shows any inkling that anything has changed at all.
Rainbowers
(From 2012, about a community, unread by anyone, translated)
Community where I create my work:
My comunity creates works with me or in parallel to me with the aim to increase their repertoire and to show the rest of the community and who happens to see it.
Who are they:
My colleges in the course, my 'original friends', the strangers I start interesting conversations with, the musicians who want to plat with me, the familiar faces who want to draw with me and whoever else wants to sing karaoke with me.
Imaginary community:
We make rainbows. Not the ones which appear in the sky yet. We're still only 2nd year students of the bachelor's degree in Post-Pluvial Firmament Aesthetics which is a more presumptuous way of saying it. A characteristic, let's mention in passing, common to many of the enrolled, only because of the high average grade required to get in. Not my case, as I entered with a scholarship.
I write this in the school bar by the way, decorated by people from my course from fifteen years ago apparently. There are no white spaces on the walls, only colors, without a doubt a consequent of the old maxim of our profession: "White is the junction of all colors, however it is the least beautiful, as such it should be made separate whenever possible". I create a little rainbow from my coffee cup to my classmates' who sits in front of me. I caught him off guard, he laughs. Next to him another one scowls, I know why, he thinks I used to much blue, it was intentional: I thought it would look nice. We're in the break of the Analysis of Astral Contrast (I) class, one of the less interesting subjects. It deals with theory around how to best combine color and luminosity of rainbows to particular types of skyscapes, for example, how to deal with a twilight: it should be bright enough but not so much that it sticks out in the surrounding light. But the most common case is dealing with dark clouds since they're typically present during a rainbow. My favorite subject is Introduction to Rainbow Generation. Nothing can compare to the feeling of creating a rainbow. Some students are more focused in Rainbow Design and plan to be merely designers but to me, although more arduous and toilful it is my passion. Some of my colleges got into the course as second option, failing to get accepted in Aurora Borealis Aesthetics and I usually identify myself more with them than the designers but everything has its art after all. Being a fairly specific area there are few people in the course. The theoretical curricula isn't particularly encompassing either, focusing mainly on subtle harmonious variations of amount of color and positioning of the rainbows. One should keep in mind the detailed aspect of it all, not only because the color range occupies a limited range of the visible spectrum but it's relation to the sublime scale of the rainbow and how it fits in a landscape. This duality is what I'm most interested in.
Break is almost over, I get up to go to class. Today's topic is unexpectedly engaging: Rainbows against the backdrop of very white clouds. A rare event to be sure, but it is the time when colors of the rainbow can be most accentuated because of the white backdrop. I yearn for the day when I'll be privileged to create on in that sky.
We enter the classroom leaving a trail of a dozen rainbows in the wood by the campus.
Dialogue:
GUSTAV is at the bar sitting at a table. CHARLES sits opposite him. ARMANDO is next to him quietly absorbed in his thoughts drinking his coffee. CHARLES has a french accent and is thin and tall and currently in a good mood. He has green eyes. GUSTAV creates a small rainbow from his coffe cup to CHARLES'. CHARLES smiles. ARMANDO is apathetic.
CHARLES
Community where I create my work:
My comunity creates works with me or in parallel to me with the aim to increase their repertoire and to show the rest of the community and who happens to see it.
Who are they:
My colleges in the course, my 'original friends', the strangers I start interesting conversations with, the musicians who want to plat with me, the familiar faces who want to draw with me and whoever else wants to sing karaoke with me.
Imaginary community:
We make rainbows. Not the ones which appear in the sky yet. We're still only 2nd year students of the bachelor's degree in Post-Pluvial Firmament Aesthetics which is a more presumptuous way of saying it. A characteristic, let's mention in passing, common to many of the enrolled, only because of the high average grade required to get in. Not my case, as I entered with a scholarship.
I write this in the school bar by the way, decorated by people from my course from fifteen years ago apparently. There are no white spaces on the walls, only colors, without a doubt a consequent of the old maxim of our profession: "White is the junction of all colors, however it is the least beautiful, as such it should be made separate whenever possible". I create a little rainbow from my coffee cup to my classmates' who sits in front of me. I caught him off guard, he laughs. Next to him another one scowls, I know why, he thinks I used to much blue, it was intentional: I thought it would look nice. We're in the break of the Analysis of Astral Contrast (I) class, one of the less interesting subjects. It deals with theory around how to best combine color and luminosity of rainbows to particular types of skyscapes, for example, how to deal with a twilight: it should be bright enough but not so much that it sticks out in the surrounding light. But the most common case is dealing with dark clouds since they're typically present during a rainbow. My favorite subject is Introduction to Rainbow Generation. Nothing can compare to the feeling of creating a rainbow. Some students are more focused in Rainbow Design and plan to be merely designers but to me, although more arduous and toilful it is my passion. Some of my colleges got into the course as second option, failing to get accepted in Aurora Borealis Aesthetics and I usually identify myself more with them than the designers but everything has its art after all. Being a fairly specific area there are few people in the course. The theoretical curricula isn't particularly encompassing either, focusing mainly on subtle harmonious variations of amount of color and positioning of the rainbows. One should keep in mind the detailed aspect of it all, not only because the color range occupies a limited range of the visible spectrum but it's relation to the sublime scale of the rainbow and how it fits in a landscape. This duality is what I'm most interested in.
Break is almost over, I get up to go to class. Today's topic is unexpectedly engaging: Rainbows against the backdrop of very white clouds. A rare event to be sure, but it is the time when colors of the rainbow can be most accentuated because of the white backdrop. I yearn for the day when I'll be privileged to create on in that sky.
We enter the classroom leaving a trail of a dozen rainbows in the wood by the campus.
Dialogue:
GUSTAV is at the bar sitting at a table. CHARLES sits opposite him. ARMANDO is next to him quietly absorbed in his thoughts drinking his coffee. CHARLES has a french accent and is thin and tall and currently in a good mood. He has green eyes. GUSTAV creates a small rainbow from his coffe cup to CHARLES'. CHARLES smiles. ARMANDO is apathetic.
ARMANDO
(bored) Very funny...
CHARLES
(laughs) Hey, you do know that we won't have any jobs when we get out of this place?
GUSTAV
I've known that since always. Something changed in the meantime?
CHARLES
Yes. Our course is now also available in Lisbon. Doesn't have the same name but it's basically the same thing.
GUSTAV
Do you know the actual name?
CHARLES
Stratospheric
Design and Decoration. They do some other things besides rainbows but
it's not much different. Only it's not a bachelor's.
ARMANDO rolls his eyes, still bored.
GUSTAV
Charles, market competitivity is good, I learned it in Management class. I had Management class by the way, did I mention it?
CHARLES
No,
you didn't. And that's not the point. First off, there is no market for
any of us anyway, we're guaranteedly unemployed upon finishing the
course.
GUSTAV
(laughs) That's true.
CHARLES takes a cigarette out of his pack and puts it in his mouth. He feels around his jacket.
CHARLES
Merde. GUSTAV, do you have a lighter?
GUSTAV
I don't smoke.
CHARLES
(puzzled) Since when?
GUSTAV
Since always. Charles, we've known each other for a year and a half.
CHARLES
Pardon, I didn't notice.
ARMANDO passes his lighter to CHARLES.
CHARLES
Thank you, friend. (lights the cigarette)
CHARLES
It's like this. (takes a puff and blows out the smoke)
I have a buddy at that school and, apparently (smiles), the teaching there is much more... progressive, let's say.
GUSTAV
Progressive?
CHARLES
Like. Different. Radicaler. Compared to ours at least. Know what I mean?
GUSTAV
I don't know what you mean.
CHARLES
(impavid) Gustav.
GUSTAV
Give me an example.
CHARLES
Ah, bon,
they don't follow our conventions. They're being taught they can make
rainbows with the triple the thickness, or without some colors. Can you
imagine, a rainbow without green?
GUSTAV
I can't.
CHARLES
It seems a certain student even created one in their workshop with was totally brown!
ARMANDO
That is ridiculous.
GUSTAV
A bit. But I can see how it would be interesting.
CHARLES
You're not listening to me. That's exactly the problem.
GUSTAV
It being interesting?
CHARLES
Of
course! You know as well as I do that when there's something new and
different everyone goes crazy over it and jump on the bandwagon, no
matter how shitty it is.
GUSTAV
Shitty like a brown rainbow?
CHARLES
Exactly. It's like color cinema! Or television! Or electronic music! (without any panic) We are doomed.
GUSTAV
That's a bummer. But what can a guy do, I just love doing this.
CHARLES
Me too. I'm only afraid of becoming irrelevant (pulls out another cigarette)
GUSTAV
Hmm, well at least we can be sure they won't get a job either.
CHARLES
(blows out smoke hastily) At least there's that. (smiles)
Minutes later. The bar is empty.
A small brown rainbow hangs out of a coffee cup.
The Climb
(From 2012, some assignment about something, that no one read, translated)
I am infinitely smaller than the world in which I am. It seems that for every step the giants of these world take, I have a year of travel on foot to catch up. I'm not hungry, the proof that this is a dream. That's the rational conclusion, though everything in me tells me this is real, so maybe it is. The checkered pattern stretches till infinity, I didn't reach the glass, I couldn't climb the wall, but in the center of everything there was a tree, thin but endless, that in a horizon so fast I didn't notice creeping up on me. Perhaps it's really a dream. I began to climb it and with the increasing height the world seemed to get smaller and smaller. I didn't look around whilst climbing, I must have taken an eternity to get up there but when I came too I was next to the broad treetop leaves of the thin tree. Suspended I look around, the height of my position reveals more that at ground level. I leave the tree and stand up, on what I don't know, definitely a dream. I look around, with a tiredness I have no memory of. The immenseness surrounding me and my infinitesimal presence takes away all my drive. I sit down, I know not where, put on my sunglasses and search around without contemplating anything. It's one of those moments. When you went too far and now you have to go back, but not quite yet, that moment when you reached your objective but you still don't have the next one in queue. All you have is the empty accomplishment of reaching the previous one. I'm at the top of the mountain, I placed my flag. Now what? I'll think about it in while...
I am infinitely smaller than the world in which I am. It seems that for every step the giants of these world take, I have a year of travel on foot to catch up. I'm not hungry, the proof that this is a dream. That's the rational conclusion, though everything in me tells me this is real, so maybe it is. The checkered pattern stretches till infinity, I didn't reach the glass, I couldn't climb the wall, but in the center of everything there was a tree, thin but endless, that in a horizon so fast I didn't notice creeping up on me. Perhaps it's really a dream. I began to climb it and with the increasing height the world seemed to get smaller and smaller. I didn't look around whilst climbing, I must have taken an eternity to get up there but when I came too I was next to the broad treetop leaves of the thin tree. Suspended I look around, the height of my position reveals more that at ground level. I leave the tree and stand up, on what I don't know, definitely a dream. I look around, with a tiredness I have no memory of. The immenseness surrounding me and my infinitesimal presence takes away all my drive. I sit down, I know not where, put on my sunglasses and search around without contemplating anything. It's one of those moments. When you went too far and now you have to go back, but not quite yet, that moment when you reached your objective but you still don't have the next one in queue. All you have is the empty accomplishment of reaching the previous one. I'm at the top of the mountain, I placed my flag. Now what? I'll think about it in while...
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