For a while, to be honest, I have been harvesting women and men for three of my four and a half decades, I have sown some seeds of madness, love and nonsense in some people. Today I harvest women and men in my life. I have chosen to adopt people, call them children, friends, friends, brothers of letters, life, blood, saliva, comadres, compadres, I don't know what other ties to put here.
But I have adoptive grandmothers who have treated me with the love of a real, children I have scolded, who I join in their complicated teenage things, who liked to see me play in a field of was seven, I have shouted at you as your technical director, and some of those adopted have made me a grandmother; I have adopted friends of years like my sisters, we met every birthday of one of us for twenty years, some others met at work and we talked to each other every morning and we said we were comadres, we never saw each other, but they are still in my life, they continue to share with me things that always add up; other friends of letters, sisters of networks, that we know is happening in the life of the other, where we feel and write, we send each other, we curl up in a lot of paragraphs and that comforts our soul in a strange way, to distance, the soul of mothers repairs us, of things that happen in our country.
I have a large collection of small, much smaller than me, who have not noticed my age, or my position and have given me invaluable teachings, they gave me access to their labyrinths and they let me walk through them with madness, with chilaquiles Fridays and Lentil kicks.
Do not believe that I discriminate, I also have male friends, I admire all of them, some are already my compadres, obviously no more in word, we have never baptized anyone, but we went through years of coffee, things of pain and some exchanges support; I have teachers of life and things that can be learned to add to our ten thousand hours to be better in what we want to be, teachers of useful things and curious facts, teachers of loneliness and how to taste it, how to make it a companion and not enemy Elementary classmates who remembered your full name and nickname and decide to look for you because you were part of a past where we were happy and you are a beautiful memory and now you are a companion on an adult stuff trip.
Friends-sisters of a short time, with whom we no longer know what diet to use before going for some fat pork rinds; of mornings and sunny afternoons to reach the levels of this game called life, of those that appear out of nowhere and invade you for hours, for days, that run the same career as me.
Loves that tell you their day to day, from a very distant point to yours, imagining that if we were closer we could be a couple, but we are realistic and we are satisfied with loving each other at a distance, knowing that he had a good day and waiting Let a person come to him who loves him so much for what he is worth.
Friends of crazy things, who try to get us We almost lost our job, on the morning of catwalks, in costumes of the warehouse, of playing carts on those things that raise furniture and we used them as a skateboard of the devil, of going at the end of the day down the hall of the farewell raising his hand and doing the classic greeting, short, short, laaaargo, long, hand in hand like queens of spring, I running behind her with my short steps, and she with those pastes to the rhythm of We are the champions"Aaaahhh," what times those.
I could describe all the people that I have been adopting in my life, and here I would never end, it is more I think those stories deserve not only an entry of blog, but an entire book, but this is where I want to arrive, it is not that the blood family ceases to be, those are for me, sacred, but those touch us, for default, there is no way to change them unless we give them up for adoption before our mother realizes, but I would have missed many incredible stories, I wonder if it has not happened to you that you go through life giving noble titles to those who come in surprise and end up knowing you, much more than yourself, how when your only and favorite one tells you that the two-peso bread comes and you smile maliciously and we both run so that we don't leave that wonderful man with Manna in a wicker basket strategically placed so that you find your favorite at first, it is more I think that I also adopted that character.
And your blood family, not to mention your mother, says to you: "I want to see what it ends in." And it ends in the magical part where it still does not end, where they are still there in the way you like, you are still in a chat de whats with high school friends, of which you remember two-thirds of them, and yet everyone keeps talking to you as if you were still fourteen.
We continue through life connecting with people with whom with just one "hello", it is enough to know that perhaps, if they believe in other lives, you feel that you have known them forever, from many before. We continue to harvest humans, from those who still feel, from those who still read, from those who still know how to live, from those who leave their cell phone when you approach them and not only when there is a sign of interaction in a social network, I would like to know If it hasn't happened to you, how did they get here? How do they not think about leaving your life knowing many of your secrets? How do you not want to run when you hear them cry or talk? How is it that with such a small seed, that huge thing has grown between you and all of them?
If it happened to you, please tell me that it is not bad to go through life harvesting humans, at least tell me if you like what you have sown.