My ex-girlfriend’s saint was a schizophrenic and a football player. In this order. It’s an unimaginable combination in the same body, but Beethoven was also deaf and here is ‘For Elisa’. Note that the next day there is a match on the TV in the corner of the bar and you see the football player on the guard bending in pain on the grass and it is enough and necessary until the referee draws a card. Or a foul whistle. And already, oh, miracle! He jumps up to score a goal.
Long before I did, he already regretted what was mine. Rita Hayworth “All men sleep with Gilda and wake up with me”, so cast the first stone that hasn’t slept with a football player to wake up with a disease patient. For example. This looks golden, banana is dawn in many ways. Therefore, it should come as no surprise to anyone that ‘Face to the sun’ sounds an alarm if they are neither from the right nor the left.
So one day in that tentative marriage, my Churri came home after that game or that practice at the thousandth and found me in bed after my ordinary workday, increasingly examining my distant career and eating me with potatoes. and lots of kids. I complained that my back hurt and he replied: “Yes my back hurts”. I added a grit behind it because saying ‘yes to me’ means you didn’t. Because ‘yes’ represents the exact order of importance you place on things. We divorced because everything is knowledge and there is only one life. It’s not that or just that, oh my God, but when you hear the phrase ‘the straw that broke the camel’s back’ it means the glass is already full of other drops. Of course there are oil drops. There are drops of one and a half kilos, but we should not underestimate those small drops that make you laugh. At social dinners with other married couples I’ve lost track of but presumably all divorced, her footwork, along with her memory that can remember the sequence and who scored every goal in every relevant match in history, aroused admiration. I don’t care if Paolo Rossi won the Golden Boot in 1982, how can I explain it, just as it hurts me that one of his kids can’t remember his birthday? “But that’s why, ha, ha, ha, my memory is bad,” he laughed, until he and other gentlemen—probably the next divorcee—added: “But, ho, ho, ho, because that’s what you are”.
We met the other day for a long-lasting coffee with that wholesome intimacy that many married people would already want for themselves, that we know how to build after they break up. Our Pokémon have turned into being neither macho nor feminist, and their chiseled bodies from years of hard training and eating egg whites for breakfast, and this unequally distant, saggy, vindictive body. Of course, single women draw him in the lottery and I’m still here, dreaming that one day someone will look at me the way he looked at a goal at the time of injury. Well, the saint of my ex, ha ha ha, came to surprise our kids with this anecdote about how much it bothered me about your wonderful ability to hide results, remember? And I, as the person who should take him as a ‘Know and win’ couple instead of taking him to a town hall wedding hall, I realize that teeth grinding comes back to me and I go in front of our pups and ask him. when are their birthdays. Midfielder “How are your birthdays?” she suspects. “Yes, that’s right, when were our children born?” Mine loosens with a jolt, for some strange reason being kept in the same cloud where Quini or Butragueño’s targets live, but believe me, our kids can’t hit the target, ho, ho, ho, not day or month. And what would I blame him for? Also if I’m confused about whether I should ask him about the anterior cruciate ligament, or has something in the meniscus caused his recent discomfort? And we know very well at this point in the game that injuries are as important as my birthdays on his list of importance.
I remembered this point by point the other day as I watched in amazement the déjà vu of a coup attempt that is now in Brazil. Not because the thousands of Bolsonaristas who attacked the Congressional headquarters, the Federal Supreme Court, and the Planalto Palace did so weeks ago as they summoned aliens to smuggle Lula da Silva into the black hole of non-democracy. : for example with the national team jersey instead of camouflage. Once again, it was due to the absurdity of the so-called condemnation of many of our rulers and promising rulers, who instead of condemning the bad event, the period, everything, any catastrophe… used it to tell us about even the most terrible misfortune of others: “My back hurts.” And I can’t find the Martian who separated us from them…
Source: Informacion
Dolores Johnson is a voice of reason at “Social Bites”. As an opinion writer, she provides her readers with insightful commentary on the most pressing issues of the day. With her well-informed perspectives and clear writing style, Dolores helps readers navigate the complex world of news and politics, providing a balanced and thoughtful view on the most important topics of the moment.