"Not everyone who has experienced passion truly understands it. Not all readers comprehend what they know.”
Hubbub, and tumult of steady rhythmic voices around me. Usually I'm phobic of luxurious bars / restaurants. As if I'm entering a minefield.
I can liken these places to a barrel of shit, but it is beautifully embroidered and decorated upon its surface, the same as well applies to the customers it contains.
Alexandra has received me with a grinning face, warmly cuddled me.
I knew since she called and invited me to her birthday, a sensation via her soft tone, was an implicit message ordering me to come. I felt that I couldn't escape and I was cornered. So I went grudgingly.
She knows I dislike places like this. Reassure me by saying: don't worry, it’s on me tonight, since you came.
This girl has a knack for understanding other people's mentality and how to interact well with them. According to her work, she first worked as a social worker and later promoted to become the director of public relations at Oxfam.
It was obvious to me that she had her makeup done by a beautician. She looked elegant.
Applied a thick black eyeliner, her eyelashes were the same color, she used a good mascara on them, they seemed she had combed each eyelash separately, which maintained the glisten darkness, giving a mysterious allure to her looks through her blue pupils.
Wearing a sleeveless black robe with a slit extending from her foot to mid-thigh. I noticed that the black color makes every part of the whiteness of her skin stand out strikingly and charming to the viewer.
Her silky, yellowish hair was golden this time and held together.
She tinted her lips with matte cherry lipstick, which is not thick, as it does not make her lips emerge from the rest of her facial features. Her nails were cut almond-shaped. As well carefully painted her fingernails and toenails with the same color, without leaving any gaps. Also, deliberately cleaning all the corners of her nails made them appear quasi flawless.
Certainly this is the work of a talented make-up artist who’s capable of transforming a beauty not as commonly regarded of a white european woman to something eye-catching.
Alexandra has a quality that confuses me, which is reconciling the contradictions in her network and her personality. Sort of moral duality. That means she would spend 400 euros on high heels, whereas demonstrating or sit-in against the governments or institutions about unemployment or destitution in the slums. She’s like this, puzzling me constantly. But in the end, she is a generous and kind-hearted person.
There were about fifteen of us invited, I know only four of them.
Unfortunately for me, Carlos was among them.This guy, no idea what’s his importance to Alexandra.
He has an athletic body, evident from his broad shoulders, and chest muscles.
It is obvious that he has lost hair on both sides of his forehead and in the middle of his head. Consequently, he decided to shave them off.
A person who cares about material things and appearances as a priority in his life. Always well dressed, infuses pungent and extravagant perfumes. His vibe introduces him as a real dick-minded of a womanizer at first sight.
We met several times with Alexandra. He works as a wholesales manager. A man made by his job, he has no purpose in life other than the black leather chair behind a wooden bureau. His thought is eroded by routine life and the monotony of duty with its rusty language.
Probably the last book he read was the one related to the last subject he studied for his college exam.
His mentality is restricted to commercial computations. He sees everything with the eyes of a merchant; all things are supply and demand for him.
I was not comfortable with him from the first time we met. A kind of person who speaks with calculated friendliness escorted with a cunning cowardly way of peeking at others.
That night, The instant he saw me, he came to me, preceded by his smile.Talking to me in a quite pleasant way about general topics. Wondering what the secret is to this kindness? So the level of his politeness is falsified. Such a person will never donate anything without receiving in return.
Our conversation was interrupted when Margaret crossed in front of us!
This woman has a hypnotizing beauty. Her prettiness is similar to an artwork in which the components of sound, image, and rhythm come together.
An extremely smooth wheat-colored skin, and her hair color ranges from black to maroon.
Her chest is exquisitely fine, her breasts show admirable,breathtaking globes. The richness starts from her waistline, glutes, downwardly to her feet.
Her brown eyes conceal her penetrating look behind a smile.
The femininity of her is predominant, powerful, and sweeping through all the senses. Rather painful.
She was gorgeous in black crop top paired with a tight-fitting dark blue miniskirt. Revealing the whole length of her golden thighs and legs.
She had worked as a social worker with Alexandra, but had a penchant towards modeling, acting, photography, and social media advertising, as well as being a fashion influencer.
These domains in some circumstances generate more income in just a few hours with fun, rather than a full day's work with miserable families and individuals.
Hence for this purpose she left the job, began to wander around the artistic community, going to places where they gathered in bars and restaurants to seize her chance. She's well aware that her beauty is important and sought-after and she used it cleverly as a strategy.
Carlos kept following her with a gaze that embraced everything in her. His desire aching for release.
Turning his head drunkenly to me, blinking wide-eyed in astonishment, as if awakening from a vision. At that moment his tone, gestures, and his looks had completely changed for the first time since I knew him. As he spoke he didn’t let his eyes meet mine, but addressed his words blankly behind me: You are the strangest of people, but I see aspects of everybody in you.I have never felt weak in my life before anyone, especially women, except her!
I dropped my head because a smile was spreading across my face and didn’t want him to see. Given that a drunken rascal in his feeble moment blurting out what’s suffocating him is something unprecedented for me!
I asked him, torn by curiosity, to know what was going on between them.
He met her surly as expected by Alexandra. One of those random encounters she loves to have. He started courting her, and she coquettishly hinted at accepting his advances.
Of course, a guy like him knows exactly how to display his assets.
Firstly they exchanged their instagram, he liked and commented on most sensual photos of hers. Thinking of showing all her followers that she means something special to him.
Regarding to her, she knew what he wanted through the bait represented by his liking to those seductive images precisely.
Thereafter, they started hanging out alone, so within a week he showered her with presents. They ended up having sex at his house, and then later on, she gradually began to reduce contact with him, ignoring his messages, and avoid going out with him by making up these loose excuses as follows; I'm busy, I'm sick, or I have a photo shoot, casting, etc. But she kept the door ajar between them. Thus, she’ll keep him around her orbit in order to exploit him later.
I thought that their relationship from the beginning was pathological. She's a shrewd one, and he's such a ruse person. I believed or I preferred to believe so, sometimes having intercourse is not necessarily an act of erotisim. Perchance they already have found what they seek interests in each other.
Time and experience with men taught her how to identify their frail points within them, and also developed her intuition to the level where she could deduce what is their purpose.
As for the other, it seems that he fell under her spell.
His complete ignorance or superficial awareness of love, who makes one sometimes begins to act against his own interests. This contradicts his capitalist concept of envisaging his path, derived from the perspective of personal property and human greediness.
Now he is aware of his weakness, but he does not want to confront it, but rather immerse himself in it. Embedded under thick layers of confusion and fear of losing her. How cruel is the hope that keeps you waiting for someone you don't trust.
While he was continuing to divulge about his emotional fragility toward Margaret, with some glances at me of ignominious shyness, as his sexual narcissism was insulted.
It was unexpectable blow to his ego when she abandoned him.
His cluelessness about love and its endless formless, shapeless maze made him bewildered.
Yet how idiotic the notion of wealth in which brings power. isn't always true.
Among his trivial speech, I felt like I wanted to urinate.
This guy talks nonsense while he’s attempting to be wise via his tone, plus, forming a meaningful face to me.
I interrupted his conversation by saying that I wanted to go to the bathroom. His face expressed frustration because I interrupted his train of thought.
Unloaded all his trash-talking. Then I proceeded to the bar to order a glass of white wine, feeling at the same time the spinning of the surroundings, while searching for focus points in my brain.
Automatically, I took out my phone and checked my Instagram account, there was a notification of a video call from someone dear to me.
I got nervous! I wrote to her that I was at a birthday party. She replied to me by voice message, she wanted to show me her lipstick and how it looks pleasing on her figure.
I burst spontaneously in anger: fuck! I wasted my time with that degenerate jerk.
It scared the barman and some customers. I heard some giggles. I couldn't tell where they were coming from, except that they were close and directed at me.
I had the feeling of leaving this place, I never get to stay any longer, in need to go home then vomit all this filthy night.
Alexandra courteously as always offered me a lift home. I told her I would manage, besides I wanted to be alone.
Strange, non-linear thoughts crossed my mind while I was on the subway. I arrived home, and as I lay in bed, my mind was filled with spinning images from my inner universe. I turned off the light, and everything was enveloped in obscurity. Suddenly, a final thought popped into my mind, seemingly out of nowhere it was a topic of discussion between me and Claire; Spiritual intimacy starts from the waist and above, while physical intimacy begins from the waist and below.
Then I completely surrendered to nothingness.
