Sprezzatura

Current mood: Down on My Luck by Vic Mensa

He was like a wild roller-coaster that challenges perception.

It was the first time in about a decade that she genuinely appreciated someone’s criticism. His was not cacophonous. She had the rude habit of dismissing compliments because most people (even some of her favorite of people) just didn’t use language that she understood or trusted. If Libertad didn’t respect the work, the craft of the flatterer, sadly, their words were irrelevant, ignored. She truly tried being more polite for their sake. Them calling her “cruel” wasn’t bothersome;  though, she often felt exhausted by the minutiae of such daily interactions. They were like carousels rides while he elevated the railroad track and designed tight turns, steep slopes, and sometimes inversions. With him she found a worthy opponent for a game of strategy.

His work aroused her.

The fascination was artistic at first. The white queen’s pawn opened with a d4. In retort, The Professor freed two piece by moving a pawn 2 spaces, playing e4.

Google Ngram has no record of the word “sapiosexual” prior to 2008. The first time Libertad understood her sexuality fue con El Colombiano. La imagen dentro de Libertad, lo que sentia con el, era una fusion de Gabo y el Che. Aun existe poesía y canciones que ella escribia con/sobre el y de el sobre ella. En esos tiempos hablaban en los primeros movíl con cámara. In 2004, Libertad had the Sanyo 8100, the very first camera phone on the market.

On the 16th of September of 2005 at precisely 2:22am, El Colombiano wrote her:

hola senorita… i miss you, i can’t wait to see you and spend time with you… if we discover one day that all existence is merely an illusion which fragments a single consciousness into many and projects them onto the tabla raza of empirical reality thereby creating what we perceive as our own existence, I’m glad that we’re actually the same consciousness but that, even in our fragmented form, we still somehow found eachother (even if it only does amount to a hallucination) (sic)

This led Libertad to set a very high standard for all types of relationships early on.

She was a sucker for those who had a way with words, those who could maneuver across an 8 x8 grid. Cunning linguists were her favorite. Followed by leftists. Like her amazing portmanteau, not only was The Professor brilliant and beautiful but also direct and honest; there was real earnestness, integrity, deliberateness and sense of purpose about him which Libertad hadn’t experienced. Being called out by The Professor was tantalizing; he was firm, not loud, about calling “check!”

She is deliberate with her every word and action but in the company of The Professor she was careless and messy. Sometimes, inexperienced players forget that “queen takes color” when setting up the checkered board. Around him, all her research was forgotten and nothing seemed  true anymore. Her thoughts were consistently incomplete, but ultimately intelligent in their own way – he made her feel this way. When she impulsively tried to kiss him, it felt like she made a rookie mistake. She castled too soon! He gently re-directed her efforts with his tongue. Her apology was accepted and she followed his lead when their lips met again. Libertad could taste his words; she could feel his language comb through her hair like the wind does during 90° drops.

His vulnerability is sexy.

In the Western version of Chaturanga, she did well finding and engineering opportunities to trade one piece for two, or to get a better position. The Professor observed silently, flirting by allowing her to show off and gently daring her to rethink her own expertise. With him, she imagined she couldn’t even fuck around trying to immobilize his King; pleasingly ingenious, he seemed to know, even several steps ahead, when she was trying to distract him to promote a pawn. Kissing was good, but the bedroom was off limits and he did not want to be explicit about it.

In all the unspoken words and moments with The Professor, in reality, she was left with only savoring elusive moments.

Is this a draw? A forced resignation?

 

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