Saturday, August 14, 2010

Family and other crap

Let me tell you a little story...

There was this guy. Young, blond, tall, blue eyes, handsome, or so it seems. He met a girl, they had a relationship, a baby came. Then they broke the relationship, he met another girl, and another baby came. The relationship got broken before he knew she was pregnant; he had the perfect excuse when one day he got a letter with a picture of a cute little blonde boy, this is your son, in case u might be interested, and this is our address, just in case... he didn’t seem to be interested. He broke the letter, together with the picture. A bit later, he moved to another city. He got engaged to another woman. Life’s ironies, they couldn't have children for a long time; seems that his sperm had become lazy, after so much movement. Nowadays, he has a five-year-old son. Blue eyes. With the first of the three he's got a light contact. Broken for years and rejoined afterwards, it's kindda cordial now, kindda once a month we phone, well, maybe, or email, or text. With the second one, nothing at all. Don’t know him, but i don’t even know the name or where he lives. The third child is living with him and everything. So here u have three very different ways of having a child represented in an only person.

And i wonder.

I wonder why, i wonder how... (just another lemon tree?) I wonder how this can happen, i wonder how he can sleep at night, i wonder why the fuck can he say (even think!) that he knows about having a child older than the one he’s living with, i wonder why should i give that little blue-eyed boy, that obviously is not to be blamed for anything, more importance than to the other blond boy whose picture was so easily discarded. Or so it seems. Are they not exactly the same? Are we not exactly the same, all of us, we humans? Obviously not. It all depends on luck. Lucky we were born where we were born, when we were born and surrounded by whom we are surrounded, the ones that have stuck... in an ample sense...

I use to call him excuse me.

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