La memoria del muerto

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There was once a seagull

who fell in love with the sea.

She'd moistened her legs

in the white and salty foam.

She'd fill the sea with presents:

Flowers, garland, shells...

...which she'd dropped from the air

in the middle of the waves.

But in the morning the deepest sadness

overwhelmed her...

...as she found all of her presents

lying all over the sand.

She flew right into the sea

filled with pain and rage.

And so she drowned between

the waves and her own tears.

How long will you be

at the mountain?

One week.

So much?

So much?

Yeah, I don't want to

be alone that long.

It's a long time, I can go

visit you for a few days.

I'm going to a convent, Alicia.

To meditate, to blow off some steam.

To try to learn new things.

You can't come.

Huh, and you'll go right now.

Right now that... what?

Now that I'm trying to

get ahead a notch...

...that I'm a little weak,

that I need you, a lot.

Will you make it hard for me or

will you give me some good vibes?

I'm jealous.

Jealous of what?

Of everything and everyone.

No!

Honey, are you OK?

Oh, God, you can't imagine the horrible

nightmare I just had.

Wake up, so you can tell me what it

means before I forget it.

Jorge, Jorge, what's wrong?

Jorge, what's wrong?

Wait...

Hello. I need an ambulance

please. Yeah?

I don't know, he's bleeding, he's making

a weird noise, he's not breathing.

Hold on, they are on their way...

We have to visit a lot of places.

Please Jorge, don't go,

honey, don't go...

Honey, don't go, we have

to have children...

Come back, Jorge, please!

Come back!

Come back!

THE MEMORY OF THE DEAD

Alicia...

Alicia!

Hugo, my God.

How did you get in?

Let's go, they're about to show up.

- Yes.

- What a fright!

You a**hole... what a jerk...

What a champ...

Poor man, he adored you.

He always wanted that his beloved little

cousin got to know his world.

Look.

- See? Isn't that something?

- I can't believe it, look at this!

My dad would take them while he

told us what we had to do.

Jorge always kept fond memories

of your old man, always.

See? Not everything about

families is horrible.

The exception that proves the rule.

You're Jorge's sister, aren't you?

No, but close, right Momi.

Stop that, b*tch, the only

one who called me Momi...

was that f***ed up husband of

yours, and I hated it.

- They were cousins.

- Yes.

Are we still playing or what?

Aren't you going to

share one with me?

This already has an owner.

- What about this one?

- This one?

This one is delicious.

If you touch that you'll get no drink.

Look at you playing it cool in

front of your friends.

My friend is the dead guy.

Not these ones...

Hugo!

How did you end up with this coprophage?

Co-what?

You look smart...

Human at least.

Thanks.

You're not at your best, are you?

I don't want to talk about it,

let's change the subject.

Honey, yes, I'm here already.

I'm missing you already.

Put my little thing on the phone.

You disgusting ass! Come on,

I want to talk to my daughter.

- Hey, Little Princess.

- She can speak?

Finally I'm here, complete.

Am I the last one to arrive?

Yes, all of us are here now.

Nicanor was on time, really?

He was the first one to arrive.

Jorge, Jorge...

How are you?

I don't know...

Sometimes...

I feel very bad...

...sometimes I feel that he didn't leave,

that he's watching everything...

...waiting for me to lend him a hand

to bring him back here.

I don't know.

Thank you.

Thanks for being here.

As you know today is the 49th day

since Jorge's death...

...and it's very important for me...

...that here are those who loved him most...

...and whom he loved the most.

Before we take a look

at the portrait Nicanor painted...

...I wanted to tell you something.

Jorge knew that this time would come.

He knew that he'd die suddenly.

And that it'd be important...

...that the people who loved him

would gather around his absence.

As he knew all these things,

he wrote you a letter.

"My dearest, if you're reading this...

...it means I'm no longer with you.

A dream revealed to me that

I will not grow up to be an old man.

Even though I don't know how or when

I'm going to die...

...I think it's going to be sudden

by accident, and relatively soon.

Which is why I'm writing this...

because I believe that for those

who remain there...

...the absence is more painful

than for us who leave.

This is a very personal letter.

And I want Alice to pass it on to you...

...with that voice of hers

I always knew was my own voice...

...but in an angel's body.

Mauro.

My partner at the time I wanted

to experience the most frivolous...

...the most promiscuous things.

He was there with me.

Fabiana, who taught me that

affection can last forever...

...and that it's possible

to love unselfishly...

...and be happy while trying it.

Mnica.

I'm tempted to call you Momi...

...but I will hold it back.

My beloved little cousin.

The joy of my childhood.

The joy of our family.

The joy at its purest form.

Hugo.

We were always opposite

but connected by the vertex.

And because of it ever since

first grade, we were together.

Hugo, who always knew

everything about me...

...without my telling him a thing.

Nicanor, my most recent friend.

Sent by the angels to keep an artistic

record of my passing about this world.

Who taught me that it's true

that there are many worlds...

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