The man of my life was at the concert

Yesterday I met the man of my life. And he was in a concert.

The concert was at the plaza de toros in Madrid. Kasabian, The Killers and Smashing Pumpkins were the lead bands, so needless to say, the place was packed with all sorts of people. Freakies, grungies, teenies, geekies, take your pick.

In this sort of event, everyone typically goes with friends, so chances of engaging in a romantic affair, were...close to zero. I was there for the music, more specifically to see my Teenage reference band Smashing P.

I couldn't be farther from reality.

It wasn't until Kasabian finished playing that he appeared. But when he did, everyone noticed.

A soon as he appeared he took us all by surprise. He was energetic, overwhelming with positive energy, good vibes. And then of course, he had the charm and charisma that only a girl could notice.

And if you add the fact the he's the lead singer of The Killers, then even guys could notice.

Maybe it's the stage, maybe it's the "out of reach" factor, but still he is the Man of My Life.

When you consider the implications of turning around your future plans, you know the thing is serious. Well, I was thiiiiiiiiis close to becoming....A GROUPIE. Yups, a groupie. The sort that stalks her idol across the country, will do anything to share a tour bus ride, tries to fit in the lyrics when doing newspaper cross-words, fights off all the easy-slutty-biaches that were trying to get laid with HER MAN. You know, that sort.

It may seem a bit too much, but you have to sacrifice something for the things that really matter, right? What is my dignity and self respect, compared to sharing with him a few hundred miles and a bit of attention? A complete bargain, it's' what it is.

If it weren't for the fact that I already have a plane ticket to Lisbon I'd be chasing him into Vegas!

*Sigh*...

Me gusta el Gris

Me gusta el gris.

Me gusta su textura, sus nudos, sus granos, sus vueltas y líos.

Me gusta su indefinición, su inconsistencia, su falta de contorno, su falta de leyes y normas.

Me gusta como se escaquea a las rejas porque nadie sabe dónde ponerlas.

El Gris es raro, es lejano, es...fuera del territorio permitido. Me siento tentada a hacerlo pero me sostengo. Siento su frío y cómo me lo pasa al alma; Siento su calor y cómo me lo pasa al cuerpo; Sé que más allás de la línea borrosa que el gris define, me faltará el aire, el oxígeno, el hidrógeno...

Ay, escalofríos...!

No, como niña ruborizada que mira culpable a los amantes recién descubiertos, prefiero admirarlo desde aquí.

La cabeza razona, el corazón palpita, pero las piernas se me acojonan!

No sé si soy yo que no estoy preparada para saber que hay del otro lado de la línea borrosa o si es la línea que no quiere ser trespasada...muchas veces el maestre no sabe enseñar al alumno.

Así que por el momento no me arriesgaré.

Quiero conocer el Gris de cerca, pero sabendo que las primeras impresiones son (casi) todo, esperaré que el mundo se mueva y me lleve con él...