I remember... The solitude of an illness man while looking out of the window knowing he can´t share anything with anybody... That´s it. Only him. Only a transparent crystal window separating him from the rest of human beings, ants moving to and fro, and he can´t touch them. But from the top of the building he feels superior, the great lord, the God or Kami reacting with disdain and depotism over this little creatures. I used to be happy observing him from the building in front with my binoculars, moving slowly in his naked room, only books around and cups of coffee. Sometimes the ashtray was overflowing with his cigarette butts, maybe his girlfriend´s cigarettes as some of them had red carmine on it. But I always saw him alone, open curtains showing me his interior, the titles of his books, his hard coughing, his sad eyes. I was wondering how could she be, the lady sharing his naked room, or maybe what is it inside his naked body. I liked him by the way only because he had a dark and hidden side I wanted to discover, like Nietzsche or Kafka. Just like when I was a child... Having my toys, open and ruin them so then I was not interested anymore. Could be maybe months, years perhaps watching out of my window to his, trying to find the mechanism to open this new Kami toy, running home after my job in the center of the city and spending hours and hours looking at him doing basically nothing. And only for that I was trapped in his net and solitude. Living his illness together but never talking or sharing anything more than time in the distance. He never saw me... I thought. Never a little glance or smile. Just him reading and reading and observing and drinking and smoking. Somedays his courtains were closed so I couldn´t see him. I imagined that he was in company of someone and the evidence of the red carmine butts when he pulled back his courtains. So he knew I was looking? Of course. Why in the world to draw the courtains if you think nobody is watching? I was rejoiced in deep emotions. What could be next then? Maybe he could open his cristal window and talk to me, just say a shy hello or just look at me straight to my eyes and say is silence:
Could you please stop observing me?
Something for me to know he was alive and he knew about me... But it never happened. Just he disappeared like drops under a summer shinny day, like the care you share long distance, like the Japanese cities under American bombs. Just dissapered in a shouting and struggeling silence. He just leave me alone in the silence of his solitude. Maybe dead, maybe scaping from himself with his girlfriend, maybe just wanted to hide from me and talking to me for first time saying something like:
I saw you and I am fed up with you, loosing your valuable ant time with me. You are the queen of the ant´s nest so could you please do what you have to and leave me alone with my reading, my cigarettes and my coffee, please.
Maybe, who knows, who cares now that the window is open and nobody is inside. I would like to know if someone is going to rent his flat. This flat that my next-door young neighbor said has a plague of red ants now. I should go and take a look inside. Maybe he just forgot the sugar of his coffee so ants are having a happy party. Maybe just he wanted me to go into his naked ex-house and tell the ants to organize themselves for the future... The red future. For sure.