Blood-drenched Beard

* I appeared in a corridor, unmoving and suspended in the air, and I couldn’t feel my own body. I could see my body, but it was as if it didn’t belong to me. Then on my right I saw a room with a large table made of dark wood and four chairs, two on each side, with a window at one end. The room was very white, with dark floorboards and a very high ceiling. It was night, and I saw you sitting with your back to me, in black pants and a shirt, with your hair recently cut, and clean-shaven. You looked behind you, as if you could feel my presence but couldn’t see me. In the dream I was afraid of being discovered, because I knew that shortly I was going to witness something important. Then at the same time, a man appeared sitting in front of you, and another standing on the left. The man sitting in front of you was a stranger, and I didn’t know what you were talking about, because you were communicating telepathically. But the man on the left was communicating with me telepathically and told me that he was your brother and your guardian. At that moment, my astral body very quickly went up a staircase on the right to a corridor, and an intuitive force made me find an envelope hidden in a crack in the wall. The envelope had a wad of banknotes and a kind of dossier that said who you were. It had everything about you. The dossier said that you are a mysterious creature who has already lived many lives and knows it. When I returned to the room, you had disappeared along with the two men. At this moment I was immediately transported to another scenario: a rotting wooden deck outside the house that was falling to pieces. I saw a marshy lake surrounded by forest. An unknown woman, tall, brunette, passed me without a word, entered the murky water, and vanished. Then I woke up, and the first thing I thought was that you were a vampire. I don’t think you’re going to admit it, you may not even be aware of it, but there’s a reason why you don’t know it or deny it, and one day I’m going to explain it all to you.

* (1) i want you to masturbate every day thinking of me. promise! i spend the whole day with the taste of your skin in my mouth and feeling your hands on me. i’m feeling something that won’t go away. this has never happened to me before. (2) i tried to erase my last message, sorry, how embarrassing. did you read it? am i going to see you today? ps.: Pablo loves the goggles!! why don’t you teach him to swim? (3) check out the clip of that song we heard yesterday that you liked, by the guy from red hot: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gZsbODz0V3Y (4) aren’t you going to answer me???

* Hey. I thought a lot before writing to you because the last time I called you, when I heard about your dad, you made it clear that you didn’t want to hear from us. You can ignore this message if you like, as you have the others, and I’m sorry if I’m being pushy. But I suspect you’re like that so people will come to you, because you don’t want to talk first, you know? If I’m wrong, I’m just going to make things worse, but… I’ve decided to take the risk.

I only just found out that you’re in Garopaba. Your mother told me you gave up the apartment and sold everything. I remember you always said you wanted to do something like that one day, to go and live by the beach. I hope things are going well for you. I imagine you hitting the water bright and early, then sitting on a rock to warm up in the sun. Are you surfing? I always thought you should surf. Sometimes it’s only life’s jolts and bumps that make us take the plunge and act on our dreams. I only wish you well and always will. You know that (even though you don’t want to hear it, but you know it, don’t you?). Your mother said you talk to her, but you hardly speak to anyone else in Porto Alegre and didn’t tell anyone where you were going. Of all the people I know, you’re the one who most has his demons under control, but I’m sure they’re there inside you because I’ve seen them. I know I fed them, and I’m really sorry for it. Solitude wears people down, and I’d hate to see them take hold of you while you’re there alone, not knowing anyone. Though you like it, don’t you? Or maybe you’ve already met a whole bunch of people and are dating a local and this idiot here is worrying for nothing. I know you’re not a child, but I can’t help but worry, and it’s been tormenting me.

You probably think it’s a bit selfish of me to be writing to you like this, to relieve my guilt. But I’ve always thought that you see our story in a very simplistic way. It’s complicated, and we need to face it sooner or later if we want to make peace with life.