Dear Jorj, I looked to stay in the shadow, more honest I didn’t want to get her attention towards me. I was very afraid that next to her I would end like a butterfly in a lamp. You know that by that time I used to have the fame of a lady’s man, at which I kept a lot.
I didn’t want any type of complications in my life, and the information about her, from the rejected men, let me know that any reference at their experience was impossible, at their atrocities in the private life. These matters were unapproachable; nobody wanted to reveal his failures and revolt next to her, most of all because some of them could not even recover psychically. Then I don’t believe there exists a man whom will make a great rank from a woman’s disposal towards him, his person.
This is how things are, being unable to chase any information about what Tita was in her privacy, I thought that the mission to “help” these men would fit me, these men that neglect their wives, people like me making these women a favour, we had a quite important mission, exciting and it was not like the end will come if I meet one more woman: Tita.
More than this, people like me, “the loving ones”, don’t wish any kind of violent relationship, since it gets our body from use and the lost is double.
All the lovers believe that their amour, in which they totally involve, is enough, the other activities being less important or not at all inquiring. This is how I got to the conclusion to quietly do my own things, although I have heard that near Tita you can find bliss ness. How everybody knew that along big mountains is the abyss and how I don’t even like intense air, I definitely gave up at this person.
I still meditated on: if many of my friends had stopped at these simple meditations, they would still live today or they wouldn’t be almost crazy.
It could not happen. Everybody is eager for affirmation. It was hard to bear being a nobody, so the tumble ness got me too and I left my self in hands of faith… with all the conclusions form my meditation, with all my strict and known way, one day I see myself near Tita.
In fact I realized all this for a short time … how it happened I don’t quite know, but I have to tell you that in order to know Tita it is not enough sleeping with her. I could say that this only complicates things. Tita, you have to follow in the drawings room, clubs, there’s were she hits, were she owns.

Miserable as I was I realized all her spell after I felt in love with her. Then I saw the things that others did not see and I was feeling the force that held her and was blazing from her inside. With Tita “I lived” for a month. In fact “I lived” is a matter of saying. The reality is bitterer. Her flat was decorated by a studied guy in the erotic psychology matters, in the greatness of the colors effect on the psychic. The flat was painted with funky colors: purple, ultramarine, cherry, and other keys alike …
You, the chosen one … were left in the living room, in an arm chair. Maybe that room was soundless, but you had the feeling that “it gets on your nerves”. While you were smoking a cigarette a discrepant atmosphere would wrap up your being, also helped by the light given by luster that with its electron beam lights was tearing all the room into striations. If you weren’t able to hear any other noises you simply had the feeling you were being wedged in the chair …
The sounds that came from Tita, her quality voice seemed to allow you a dispensation from that armchair and it gave you a sort of a release in which you were allowed to be yourself. In that moment and space that she had given, you became from a man fasten on an armchair, a controlled man, as an authentic puppet. Through this “alley” that her voice “would open” for you or not … And then, in those moments, you could be with her, worn, enthralled and used by her…
There were nights when the invitation was for one night, but there were many nights when … you were forgotten in your armchair.
While I was with her I felt dragged into the most humiliating circumstances, that would offend any person … mostly a man … and lady’s man, how I considered myself to be.
To all there humiliations was added the fact that I was almost being hit by a car, of which driver was in love with Tita and he heard “that I was being her lover”.
When she was going out with me for a walk I was feeling as a walking stick… her walking stick …I couldn’t bear anymore, I had to run. Now I see that after so many years …her shadows carry me back on these lands, again.
– You told me you loved her, but I see that you still love her.
– You are right. She is the curse of my life. After I’ve been with her I couldn’t understand myself with any other woman.

I could not get married. Anywhere I see an unknown woman her face appears, her body, her look. The look that was unknown to everyone. Nobody knew her and most of all; nobody knew how far she was able to see, and what she was seeing. Then my heart became weak … By the way, can I take some water, to take some medicine?
– Of course. Go ahead in the kitchen.
Viky entered the kitchen where a woman with the back at the door was standing.
– Can I have a glass of water!
– In a moment. Takes a glass and fills it with water, and Tita (because it was she) gives the glass to Viky … When Viky sees her he “gets the wind up” …he fells down. Tita throws the water at him, she opens his neckband …
– Unbelievable! Sir, he could have died! You were talking about love and he was getting close to death. Listen, Mister Buia, forgive me if I am wrong, the teacher was teasing him, but earlier we were talking about working men, about their way of being and about their rooting out. It seemed to me that you don’t really like them, or am I wrong?!
– Hmm … I have learned something else too. In fact, even in that boy’s event, that was going at work in that rainy day is given this advice: if you cannot finish something you are given or a word, its better you don’t start it! We were talking about working men and we moved on to other stories, so let’s continue.
No, I don’t hate working men, not only because I myself have over 20 years worked at the baths, so being a part of them, you still must have noticed something that I hate. That something is the false life of the working men.
For example, I think of a working man that has claustrophobia. He goes to work in his workshop, factory, mine. So, in barred places, vicious atmosphere … He is coming home – apartment house – again a barred place, phonic pollution and all kinds … Even if he “goes out” at a restaurant, movie, theatre, still in barred and man-made places they are.
Nowadays, my gentleman, this human kind, people, that had the biggest thirst for freedom from all the world species, managed to live only in barred places, degenerating that beauty and great dream of freedom. Let’s say that if he travels, he’s still going in a train „cabin”, car or airplane.