(no subject)
Sometimes I keep myself from sleeping to avoid dreaming. The personal journey throughout lived and forgotten memories in the search of a portrait of a dictator. I remember, in the little town where I grew up, I was scared of a crazy man, he banged a piece of wood on his leg as he walked through Chillán Viejo. Without dreams, I have no consciousness. Without dreams I cannot imagine his face telling me not to hurt him. Without dreams I am free. The shadow takes form. As coming out from the dust, the ghost appears. It starts to chase me, I dream of him; he shakes me and touches me. I wish I wasn´t so scared of that man, we could´ve sat down and have a chat. Later, he was murdered by the local drunk.
In Chillán Viejo I discovered that I inherited a falsified history imposed by silences. They were all there in my dream, I asked him if I could see his wallet, like I always do when I'm too drunk to have a decent conversation with someone I like, to check it for receipts and pictures I can ask about. He told me he was married. I thought he was lying.
I woke up at 7, like I always do, to take a walk through the park. I decided I shouldn´t oblige myself to so many things on my day off (although I need to lose the 15 pounds) and slept for 4 hours more, filled with terrifying dreams.