The silence of words

By: Gustavo Torres Herrera
Translated By: Carolina Correa
Photos: Nessa Twix

She was really happy until love turned into a leafless tree in time, where the morning is contemplated like an airless dream that longs out of breath. Feeling a wedge between her family that surrounds her lie, with her fingers tangled across the distance and sustained silent dialogues with symbols and words that seem like another language in the cellular device.


Photo: Nessa Twix
© all rights reserved.

All busy in their own silence, so she has no alternative than to talk to herself and answer her thoughts, forming a parallel between her epoch and the new generations, since it became normal to be surrounded by bodies that fill spaces and built environments, which are tuned according to their whims and away from the real scenario. People with a phone in hand as it was a part of their identity. Beings belonging exploring the silent voices of others, knowing moods previously reserved to privacy and fumbling with her other hand the world with versatility.

-Definitely people are attached to their mobile phone at all times that they seem like puppets managed by the craving of the apps in the phones- thought Marián Salomé.

This attitude, like a bad seed, spread in the eyes of the egocentric people whom use their mobile phones. A behavior that affects all and when the speaker believes to be heard in small intervals, everything seems to go back to reality, she is talking to no one, because her words evaporate by the attention of the calls, emails, chats, trills and other applications of the computer world in your hands.


Photo: Nessa Twix
© all rights reserved.

– A lot people say that the old ones are refuged through silence of our own loneliness. How not to live with the yearning of those days that people payed attention when talking was elementary education standard and courtesy- replied Marián Salomé.

She ended up sharing her life with her daughter and a pair of grandchildren. A core which apparently enjoys the family affection, but where sterile regret is not help but feel loved, but because she wants to look really reciprocated with words. How often comes the one and the other, but more than conversing, simply follow what they are forever. Longs less monosyllabic dialogues and wishing that people would leave their cell phone aside.


Photo: Nessa Twix
© all rights reserved.

It is true that times have substantially changed. Everyday there is less sharing and less talking in family spaces, that before was reserved to get to know the daily lives. Maybe because of this, she has kept between her lips words that she wants to pronounce and then it’s more like a lump between the walls, where decades it was the tamp of her energy is opaque today between gestures of a beautiful face that collects the memory of time.

– Wanting to hear them not to be alone, and I live in between the silence and the words of the touch of the keys of the cell phone and the serenate of the rings of the calls and message-said again Marián Salomé.

It is not always that the line allows all day fortune to achieve or maintain independence of living with economic autonomy to lead a satisfactory existence without bothering anyone, or expecting others to do what another wanted.

– How much has my daughter struggled and now she is also alone, we thought that the best option was mutual company- replied Marián Salomé in her silence.

So many cases of verbal agony. Ones decide to buy the alliance presence to mitigate the loneliness of the memories. Other end sadly seeing as a hindrance. And there are those who are taken to nursing home, to share the day with people that sum the affective absence of relatives that have no time for them.

– Is it better to stay in solitude of these walls where almost no one speaks? Do I accept a nursing home? The one they talked about, when I complained and told them to leave the cell phones aside. She question herself- remembering what had happened a few weeks ago when they spoke about the goodness of the world shared with old ones.


Photo: Nessa Twix
© all rights reserved.

Marián Salomé remains seated near a window looking into the inside colorful Bougainville garden at home, while the others think she is totally distracted within her memories, when it is really them that are planted in family silence that has grown roots with the use of the mobile phones and end permanently absorbed between applications.

The grandmother raises her eyes above her glasses. Thinking how mail was buried before. It is true that know she has no one that writes to her or that wanted as it was in the past. Living in the present is better, not like now that it is believed to have better future. Is it true? It is possible, but at the expense of obstruction by being dragged fully into the channels of information. Then think with a certain air of nostalgia that it was waiting for the cards. The desire to get on with scribbles that passion which eventually deepen the love feeling, that construction of words that managed to mitigate the rush.

So, they called the grandmother several times by her name, but she was distracted within her thoughts and did not understand. For her family, she was once again submerged in her strange world of hidden things within her memories that was about to crush her state of mind in melancholy. And they were right, because of the bored silent she hid inside the shell of her own body, hidden in between her clothes and her heart beats of her fragile heart, the same one that for decades vibrated hoping and reading the woven letters of her loved one, in those letters that she still preserves as a memory of time where it was filled with happiness.

Definitely Marián Salomé, does not live any more only her memories of other times and her manifestations of her love. The only that she maintains in her old age is her vanity that she enjoys when her granddaughter speaks to her about the freshness that is kept over time, her beauty over the years, the one that she heard so many times at the height of the overflow line called youth.


Photo: Nessa Twix
© all rights reserved.

When reviewing the spaces of her time, she found many times that their world is not these days, and then asks if he could preserve evidence of your home. What would that entail?

The word, because they don’t talk to me – uttered haughty Marián Salomé.

Relatives outside those thoughts that bind with reality, surprised look, and believed she was sinking again like in the past. Little do they know that she still has her fresh mind, contrary to what they think? Rather it is they who live in an unreal world. How long to create the language and we destroy the beauty of words…

 


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