WHEN I ARRIVED AT THE CASONA THE HUGE DOOR WAS OPEN, HE RUN TO HIS ROOM AND WAS TRANCED. I DIDN'T ANSWER MY APPEALS WITH SHOUTS, KICK THE DOOR UNTIL YOU BEAT IT. I FOUND HIM INANIME. ON THE DESKTOP FOUR CLOSED LETTERS WITH DIFFERENT NAMES, ONE OF THEM FOR ME, WHICH I DID NOT OPEN. CALL 105 AND DELAY, BUT AN AMBULANCE CAME. THE TWO NURSES TOOK IT TO HIM, AND ALSO THE FOUR LETTERS, I USED TO GO TO THE HOSPITAL WITH HIM BUT I DON'T KNOW WHY I DIDN'T DO IT THAT TIME, MAYBE IT WAS THE DARKNESS AND THE FEAR OF THE WORST. THAT WAS REASON FOR INCREPATION_ - YOU DID NOT ACCOMPANY ME. IN THE EARLY MORNING I KNOCK THE DOOR, I HAD CLEANED HER STOMACH. AND THEN HE HAD ESCAPED. HE TOLD ME NO MONEY. A FEW KILOMETERS AWAY. A short time later, he was admitted to mental health. AT LEAST TWICE. BETTER BUT KEPT COMPLAINING OF HEADACHE. LEON LEGAZCUE, URUGUAY, 2021

 

WHEN I ARRIVED AT THE CASONA THE HUGE DOOR WAS OPEN,

HE RUN TO HIS ROOM AND WAS TRANCED.

I DIDN'T ANSWER MY APPEALS WITH SHOUTS,

KICK THE DOOR UNTIL YOU BEAT IT.

I FOUND HIM INANIME.

ON THE DESKTOP FOUR CLOSED LETTERS WITH DIFFERENT NAMES, ONE OF THEM FOR ME, WHICH I DID NOT OPEN.



CALL 105 AND DELAY, BUT AN AMBULANCE CAME.

THE TWO NURSES TOOK IT TO HIM, AND ALSO THE FOUR LETTERS,

I USED TO GO TO THE HOSPITAL WITH HIM BUT I DON'T KNOW WHY I DIDN'T DO IT THAT TIME,

MAYBE IT WAS THE DARKNESS AND THE FEAR OF THE WORST.

THAT WAS REASON FOR INCREPATION_

- YOU DID NOT ACCOMPANY ME.



IN THE EARLY MORNING I KNOCK THE DOOR,

I HAD CLEANED HER STOMACH.

AND THEN HE HAD ESCAPED.

HE TOLD ME NO MONEY.

A FEW KILOMETERS AWAY.



A short time later, he was admitted to mental health.

AT LEAST TWICE.

BETTER BUT KEPT COMPLAINING OF HEADACHE.



LEON LEGAZCUE, URUGUAY, 2021

Pesimismo literario
26 min  · 
1515

"Sentía ganas de llorar, pero no salía ninguna lágrima. Era solo una especie de tristeza, de náuseas, una mezcla de una con la otra, no hay nada peor. Creo que sabes lo que quiero decir, todo el mundo, vuelve y media, pasa por eso, excepto que conmigo es muy frecuente, pasa demasiado".
-Charles Bukowski