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Viejo 8 de marzo

8 de marzo de 2013... 

Celebrarte hoy parece que es la reafirmación de lo contrario a lo que buscamos, ser tratados como iguales. Me pregunto entonces, como podremos ser iguales si no hay garantías que puedan igualar la maravilla de tu ser? 

No hay derechos que alcancen para garantizar que tu sexto sentido desarrolle su máximo potencial; no hay ideas que liberen nuestras mentes de la tradición que lastima si no podemos entender que las oportunidades pueden llegar a ser las mismas en tanto nos reconozcamos como personas distintas; y no hay posición, cargo, ni encomienda más valiosa que la que se gana por el mérito de ser evaluados como iguales, sabiendo que nuestras habilidades son diferentes, pero también sabiendo que eso no hará que dejemos de lavar un solo plato o de limpiar el desorden de esta mañana, tu en tu casa, yo en la mía, algún día en el espacio nuestro. Y no alcanzan todas esas herramientas porque justamente no hay maravilla que de ese tipo se haya inventado, y tampoco hay responsabilidad que alcance para asumir que tú y yo somos tan distintos que debemos tratarnos como iguales. 

Así que no celebraré, pero mientras quisiera agradecerte, no por ser humana con otro sexo, sino por la emoción que me ha provocado encontrarte, por las ideas con las que hemos colaborado, por las emociones que me has arrancado de mi ensimismado ser, por los tiempos compartidos, por las enseñanzas que me has transmitido y por la injusticia de tener que recordarlo sólo una vez al año. 

Eres el universo del poeta y la inspiración de mis cortas ideas, eres tan distinta que te propongo que no seamos iguales, porque estoy secretamente fascinado por tus diferencias, aunque tenemos que buscar como ser mejores. 

Feliz 8 de marzo.

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