the mad woman

The woman who is in me also loves you. And I don't feel her to be a foe. After all, she's me, but it annoys me.
You know how you, women, are.
Sometimes, when I want to look at you I match her out staring at you and, when I’m going to touch you, I notice her petting you.

It’s when I am distracted, when I am busy or when I am worried for something that she takes advantage. I’m not fool, you know?

I’m absent-minded, my mind is full of impossible machines which solve all the problems, buy they still don’t work. But you can be sure that I’m able to do anything, even to pull the hairs of my nose out, only to let you know that I’m here.

Even concentrated in my things, I can see her out of the corner of my eye looking for the moment, waiting for a sign to tell you a secret or things that only she can insinuate. That’s why I’m always here. By all means. She is longing for telling you things about me. It’s clear that both of you get on well. She understands you better than I do, I must confess. She has got both time and patience to talk about, apparently, innocuous things for long.

She’ll make you do what she wants without your noticing it. She knows you better than yourself. I should say that the way I own you is just an approach and that, if I could I would own the whole of you, your body and soul, your mind, your air and your will.

But you know I want you free, you know, don’t you?

She would hint at the fact that I would be able to cut your wings, to put you on a short leash, to enclose you in a bottle to keep you forever.

But you know I’m not like that. I know that with that attitude I would lose you. Maybe the woman who is inside me could catch you, buy I don’t know how she would do it. I know her, she is stubborn and is she’s got the chance, she will profit. She is not going to be able to. Nonsense. I’m me and I’m here.

Anyway. If someday she does it, don’t pay attention to that envious mad woman.

Traducción: Edurne Goñi.