The Bucket List

To say a ”no” and a ”yes” which you will always remember. As long as they marked someone else too. The ”no’s” and “yes’s” that only you remember are useless.

To drink a bottle of fine wine to the bottom. Alone. If someone, with whom you have nothing really to share, asks to share it with you, buy them a beer.

To light up a cigarette under the rain, looking up the sky. Thinking that all these clouds  are the breath of your own cigarette, smiling while the rain is washing the smoke off your mouth.

To listen with your one lost infinite love, to this and this. With phones, lights, and blinds shut. Without exchanging a word. Even if you go to other houses afterwards. It’s the houses’ fault that they’re apart, not yours.

To drive for hours on your way to deliver an apology in person, even if it is trashed. If you want, you can pick it up from the garbage and use it later. At another destination.

To let your children see you as you were when sixteen. Don’t ever be ashamed, stand “nude” in front of them; they might love you some day because you too were once a normal person. Even if they don’t love you, they will laugh at your foolishness to pretend the teenager for them.

To cry, if you feel the need, without saying “never again”. These words don’t exist.

To make someone cry if you think they are worthy. Not by being silent. By speaking out, not everyone can be kind and tender in this world. If you really love them, give them something to wipe the tears away, and take it back because you will need to give it to them again.

To kill your bad self every day  and to pull the pieces back together at night, like some other Frankenstein. In time you will learn to glue them back together with your eyes shut.

To make love even once without opening your eyes. And if they are bothered, tell them you are thinking of how they were in their 20’s. Or 20 years ago. Be prepared for what will follow, and accept it stoically.

To wander aimlessly. And after two hours not to remember anything. To go back. To leave again. To empty and return. Like a tanker. Irrespectively of content, as long as you discharge. To be able to load up again.

To drive at night listening to your favourite CD. Then go back home and burn another one. And another one. As you grow older you realise that tracks with the same soundtrack become dull.

To make a bucket list before you die. Erase what you have achieved. Leave it somewhere that can be easily found by those left behind to realise with what a toad they had to do. And to bitterly laugh -maybe even maliciously- at the fact that you didn’t manage to complete it.

Unfinished business, as always…

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