The Power of Matter

A sky of gray and pink tones was descending upon us. The ocean was petrified, its agitated face morphed into an immense silent mirror. A heavy silence was flowing between the high clouds and the water, meandering like a black venomous snake in a humid jungle. Sitting on the shore, bewitched by an eerie laconism, none of us moved or spoke.

After a while, Miquel said: “To me it’s easy to describe Jezebel.  After all, she is matter only. She is the sum of her senses which unravels her passions, her anxieties, her neurosis, her most hidden desires, and, her quest for revenge so well masked under luscious smiles. All those amount to the uppermost egoism. She mirrors herself into herself, entombed in a mass of intrigues, flowers, furniture, books. She touches them like they are relics. Sometimes, I think she is a pathetic version of a fallen angel, full of sensuality, lacking intelligence, lacking pity. Or perhaps she’s just a drunken, pathetic Aphrodite. Other times – don’t smile – she looks to me like a boa, ready to constrict any suitor that may cross her way. Maybe because she rarely has any suitors. There is no spirit in her. She is made from matter, and matter is illusion, Clara. Matter is elusive. It’s fluid. It’s dark. ”

He felt silent. His green brilliant eyes were scrutinizing the horizon. I stood still for a while. Then, I turned to him slowly caressing the back of his neck.  Rain drops were falling on my face. Was I crying?

I put my lips to his ear, and I whispered: “Miguel, her uppermost egoism, masked by charitable smiles, her inner desires of a drunken, pathetic Aphrodite, are the results of her fears. Fear devours her, eats her insides every day, like a big vulture feasting on a wounded rabbit.  She is where she is because others put her there. And instead of fighting with herself she chose to fight with others. That was her mistake. Think, Miguel, think!  The spirit is as elusive, and, as fluid as, the matter. She can outstrip her body, she can morph into something else. Even a drunken, pathetic Aphrodite, can do this. Do I need to remind you Miguel? Do I?



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