His True World

"Get out of my bar stupid drunk!" Screamed the owner of a little bar in Santiago, Chile to my friend Adour. That was another summer day that Adour was drunk and, personally, I was just about to lose my patience with him. Adour was skinny, tall and with curly hear all over his long face. His lips were always red, like his blood was moving a hundred miles per second every time he talked. He used to move his hands all the time, take 3 showers in two hours, change his clothes five times in one day, lose his keys, money, documents a least one a week. Definitively, his personality drived everybody crazy. For a long period of time I didn't understand him. Sometimes he liked to go to tango clubs, others, he spent his time around poets, in poetry parties and poetry reunions. In one of those reunions Adour decided to show himself as himself. While everybody were talking about books, authors, writing tendencies, he started to turn the music on, walking around, arguing with somebody about Nietzsche, smoking and drinking wine, dancing by him self, etc, but he won't stayed in one place for more than 5 minutes and won't listened to anyone for to long. During the time he was dancing, he began to say "hey come on, we all know how smart all of you are. Now I would like to see you dance and feel the jazz". The people stopped their conversation and there was a big silence. They all looked at Adour like he was out there, but he was smiling with his eyes closed, moving his body like it was part of the saxophone, taking deeps breaths like he was smelling the music through his senses. Without noticing that the people were upset, Adour kept interrupting the conversation by putting the music louder, talking about being real and dancing out of control. At that moment, he wasn't listening to anybody else but himself, as he was in another sphere. Finally, a guy said: "hey you are disturbing our conversation", but Adour didn't care. After that night, he wasn't invited to another poetry party again, but he tried to enjoy another group of people like he always did. Even though he enjoyed hearing people's different ideals, he never followed anyone's ideals but his own and I have to say that it was hard to figure out what was on his mind and I never knew what he was going to do or say. I only can say that he crosses life tasting everything that he finds without fear, without blame. Maybe nobody think he is a normal guy, however, I learned from him couple of things: Being normal should be yourself without restriction and that is the most difficult thing to do in our society.