Romulus without Remo

Pablo Doblado Herrero

Sevillian writer, works and lives in Barcelona, Spain.

Romolus without Remo

He was lying next to insomnia between the pillow and the wall

With a hangover in his head and the typical answer “I will never drink again “. He scared off his demons, felt free and light when he did it again.

It was an ineffable condition, and for the rest, deplorable

He did not understand the reason, but it was the engine for dismissal without a “see you later”. Maybe he did it to soothe his mistakes, or maybe, to negotiate his reasons.

Certainly, they were two alcoholics, breastfed by Luferca, he himself and his ego.

Entering the gates of Rome and falling face down to the ground

It was the solution for his reality, with a full hermitage and an existential void.

The eternal duality of escapism between deceit and reality

A frustrated Caravaggio for not achieving realism within his social complaint

A Goya tormented by his blackpaintings in his dark period.

A grieving drunkenness dressed his dull mind’s carelessness

A deconstructed trying to reach Freud’s oral stage The aberration of a conceited Narcissus

Goliath’s defeat against a child It was a plot of defects and ambitions, crashing against a cliff of violentcontradictions

An ethylic in search for the coma of a full stop of obligations

Another drunkard who adheres to the damnation of a chance encounter, amongst spirit and the gap that leads to the vestiges of an ancient Rome without Cicerone.