Literary updates

Not that I have entirely abandoned writing recently, let alone my blog; on the contrary, I have never written more before. I have compiled up to almost 50,000 words on a book I still don’t know what shape or form it will take, its name, or even its literary gender. It’s a compilation of personal writings, essentially true anecdotes where only actual names and some of their dynamics and circumstances have been slightly altered. Along with this project, I added other unfinished works: certain paragraphs from Fiction Revised, and a few fictional stories, intimate confessions, all of which points to the individual evolution I am undertaking. I am very excited about this, and hopefully, just as I have turned around my life, I may as well define my work and in the process redefine perhaps a new gender in literature. At the very least, I aim at crafting and polishing a genial piece of art that will be worth the time spent and, specially, make a great reading.

Here's to estranged friends

The holidays left a hole in my wallet and a estranged friendship. I’m speaking of my dear friend Jorge who has gone missing since December. Michael, on the other hand, reappeared and even though I’m way out of the sentimental arena for now a very long time, I have thought of Claudia and Maria on and off. I’ve read porn and I’ve written plenty, I’ve worked these past seven days straight, and of course tomorrow there’s always plenty to do. And by tomorrow, I don’t speak hypothetically, I mean tomorrow within a few hours. I won’t give up my dear friends, even though like Melody, they all have busy lives and rarely show. But whenever they do, I’ll be there to cherish their company and celebrate the great fortune of still having someone to call a friend.

It’s easier to write a self-improvement

It’s easier to write a self-improvement book but taking the easy way out to write is not my aim. First, the charts are assembled in numerical pieces and there could be pictures to illustrate the ideas exposed. We are, after all, visual animals and words are in fierce competition with pages full of color and texture. Not only are there books erasing the need to pick up lectures on boredom. Nonetheless, I feel like literature is still very far superior to any other art, including scientific data. The fast-paced world in which we live leaves little breathing room in between.
Ah, how I yearn for the touch of a stranger girl as we dance to the heartbeat music in a club. It’s been ages since I last went out. Now my writings have turned somewhat abstract and my readers probably have gone hiding. Luckily, I will be on my way home and once there, I could establish an atmosphere that could inspire creativity. Tonight was the easiest going night so far of the year. But there are plenty more nights and time for leisure and adventure. So, let’s keep focused pursuing our goals and plan ahead. I made a list of things to have. I need to better divide my time so that I can be more productive than I have been. We’ll see.

Let's see if you pick up which in the list doesn't have a positive impact on the opposite sex

1) No needy attitude: The sole notion that females prefer emotional types is a farce. In reality, women tend to run away from needy prototypes of men, the ones who often get attached too soon. Even if your girl is all for you, given and caring, you shouldn’t get too comfortable and forget that there sexiness is often derived from some degree of mystery and wonder left in the relationship. Don’t be cold; taking things in a cool manner. Like I have said many times before, using the metaphor of water: if you are to shower someone with affection, make sure that the water running is not too cold or too hot either.
2) Sense of adventure: Instead of taking her to that predictable routine on Friday and Saturday nights, or to the movies on Tuesdays, surprise her taking her to a new dance club or a different place. Make sure that you check out the place’s prices to avoid over spending and always shop around to make the best of your money. But if you really want to go all out, you should work hard to earn a great night at least once every two weeks.
3) Listen to her: Although this seems self-explanatory itself, it is not as simple as it seems. But the more you try it, the better it works.
4) Hygiene: Be very careful with the way you smell; shower daily; dress with clean attire; clean cut haircut and fingernails.
5) Displaying masculinity: This is to be learnt in time. Have a graveness to your expression, an air of seriousness and control in the way you handle things and others. Be alert and carefree, not completely bounded by your duty. Be humorous but don’t become a clown.
6) A gift here and there, not too expensive not too cheap either (around the $45 mark): On a weekly basis, if you don’t take her out at the very least give her some decent gift. This goes a very long way for women. Don’t strain yourself economically but don’t be cheap either.
7) Have cash ready: Always have more cash than you plan to spend. But don’t have it at your immediate disposition for you will be forced to waste it as well.
8) Have either a car or a place to crash of your own (chances increase by at least 20% alone if you have both). If you don’t have a place to take her, forget about the numbers nine and tens. You can always aspire to better prototypes of females if you have good looks and a decent set of wheels.
9) Don’t forget to work out: Working out is almost mandatory. It increases your sex appeal and your confidence. It will increase the levels of testosterone in your blood, which is what makes us men. On top of that, it makes us look and feel better.
10) Keeping an account on details: Add up psychological points by paying attention to details. This is very difficult for us guys but remembering something she said or something she said she liked and surprising her with it later on, goes a very long, long way.

Back to work again!

Here I find myself at work again. Yesterday, as I got home, Isabel awaited. I had a stressful time due to her reading my manuscripts and discovering certain details kept away from here. Now, I know words have an impact on others and it’s about time I set the record straight. As I climbed the stairs home, I smelled our cat’s urine. I inspected the roof landing, and found it there, on the dirty floor, staring blankly. The pain it caused me to see the conditions of his livelihood, deposed of all vanity and thinner than before from days of starvation. Rapidly, I entered home and prepared him something to eat, and put some water in a container and gave it to him. The animal didn’t take an initiative to drink so I forced him to until I saw his minute tongue stick out and lick his watered nose. I resolved that if I saw him in the morning, I would take in, but as I exited the building, upon checking his whereabouts, the feline was nowhere to be found. I went down the stairs and saw him on the set leading to the first floor, and we live on the fifth. I didn’t have time to turn back. So I left him there. Part of the argument rotated around the idea of bringing a cat and not facing the responsibility involved. The rest, of course, with my past carnal affairs, of which I will discuss in full detail once I’m done working here today and head back home. Now time is not enough to embark on details of those accounts. I had been assigned to do some fire watch but instead I am now conducting relieves for co-workers stuck on a day designated as off for Pfizer employees. It’s a lot easier to work today, and although not as easy as we have it on weekends, still far better than normally.

Psychological chains

I was asked by my supervisor if I wanted to work tomorrow. I accepted. From the beginning, you could almost hear a voice in me saying, “It’s too much, getting home so late to wake up so early.” Compensation is I get to go home earlier tonight, and it’s only a nine-hour post. If I listen to the voices of doom, laziness will have the better part of me. The most difficult thing about sleep-depravation to gain overtime at work is consenting to do so and then waking up in the morning, because once you get up, the day flies.
Yesterday, I got late. The train, in which I was making excellent time, stopped one station away from home and stayed put for twenty minutes or so without stating the anomaly. With the passage of minutes, anxiety started to mount as the conductor insisted on keeping the passengers on hiatus, I decided to leave the wagon and jump the small metal fence separating me from the station platform. The danger consisted in the train moving as I maneuvered my way out. A homeless man on the other side of the wagon in which I traveled, filled it with his putrefied stench half the car, so I had rushed to the other opposite side, unable to contain myself any longer sitting a bench away from him. Under different circumstances, I would have moved to the next car without a doubt. I wondered silently why I was inflicting such a punishment to myself: I could smell him as I got in, and I could have moved then away from there. But I didn’t and instead I stayed trapped in that sphere where most people spend significant part of their lives in. The fact that I hadn’t moved, since I was making excellent time on my way back on, sank me deep in despair. So, when the train stopped one station away, the paralysis turned into anguish over seconds. For a few seconds, I would get up and look ahead to see if I could make out what was happening. There were no announcements, nothing. My frustration was transparent as others in the same train wagon went about without demanding much, allowing the abuse. I said to myself, “That’s it!” And climbed the fence out just in time to hear the announcement by the conductor explaining there was a sick passenger who was awaiting treatment. So, since there is someone sick in the train, everyone else must remain sick along too. I crawled out and felt instantly better, and I couldn’t care less if I were arrested. I walked home thinking how stuck and impotent I felt, and how many ways we go about tied to psychological chains everywhere. But the fact that I had broken the chain of command and fleeted, I didn’t feel as trapped.

On a daily basis

Ideally, I would get through the day until it’s time to head back home, have a silent blast starting a book of eight stories, each one ten pages or less. I could continue writing these log entries, overlapping alternatively between stories, and then maybe producing two or three books a year. I am capable of writing something decent, I guess, on a daily basis. Lately, I’ve sped up the pace and I’m eager to get results faster.

40,050

Isabel already called for me. I said we will be leaving soon. Too bad, I’m determined to stay here as long as it’s necessary. I will buy more liquor on my way to the subway station. I have with me some herbs to smoke later on, with Bobbie or alone. I am drunk, a little uncomfortable in this position. I should have bought the computer chair I saw on best buy. Imagine the road ahead, the cheerfulness at the moment of arrival; it’s a long way from here. I better get going and forget this. Not that I’m giving up so soon, but I am somehow obsessed now and that is not a good indication. The music here is good, so why not just crash here instead of traveling now all the way into Queens to my aunt’s house. I do know now that is not such a great story. But find, if it’s necessary, I will sacrifice. Paola will be there and my tension might mount anticipating the moment in which I meet her. I must remember that I am calling the shots here, and not worry so much about the outcome of this minor adventure. When we get there, there’d be surprise that we have finally showed up. I think it’d be rude to get there right before the year ends. I bet that by the time we show up, most of them are already drunk. Well, it wouldn’t matter anyhow, since we are ourselves a bit intoxicated with happiness. Ah, now that line really brought to my mouth a gasp of air, sighing that in fact we are in command. No one is deciding our approach, except us. Yeah, that’s the enemy within. Isabel has just finished talking on the phone and demanded we go. I told her to go and get the kid, Vangelis, who right now is at his friend’s house until further notice. The music, magically, has stopped and the urgency to leave seems imminent. I am certain some things will be forgotten. In my rush to accomplish my goal, I will lose sight of details concerning other aspects, and in the last instant start running towards the door. Isabel’s sense of being has improved with the presence of the dog; she now has a sense of humor whenever she refers to the animal. She has bought a particular brand of food that the animal’s owner had initially left with us the day he came to bring the dog, Snoopy. Isabel, generously, took advantage of an offer of buying Snoopy a large bag of food. The dog rejected it. It didn’t even bothered going close from there. Today, she bought the brand the dog likes. Kudos for her, I say.
At last, I have won: the number of words now is 40,050, and counting, way passed my original mark.

Criminal mind

We went for a stroll on the street in our way to the liquor store, and I could see how stressful this neighborhood is. The dog didn’t make matters easier. I always thought of having a cute dog as an excellent pretext to be approached by a girl or change phrases with one that has taken her dog out for a stroll as well. Instead, a homeless woman talked to me about how she has a dog of her name, saying he was cute and all the while there, our order pending, the store full. I was behind of a man who was buying the entire store, apparently; so I switched lines, right after my favorite dealer was vociferously talking, obviously drunk or high. He is a chum of a person, terrifyingly looking and yet so mild in reality. Luckily, he only wanted a small drink and made fun lightly about the dog, as being a lion. I laughed under pressure, finally bought what I had gone there for, a little alcohol for the road ahead. We smoked a little and on my way home I was stalked by a guy I’ve seen on parole, when I worked with Internal Intelligence and they assigned me to the Department of Correction in the Bronx. It was a very devastating experience, and once in while I come across in the streets with one or some other guy that attended those facilities to be interviewed by his parole officer. Usually, in security you get to meet all kinds of people, and every so often you meet what we call “a real ass”. In any other building I worked downtown, including the former World Trade Center site, I believed that there was a complete ass in every ten individuals I came across. In the Department of Correction, two out of five displayed a very criminal personality and almost four out of five didn’t greet you and simply went about their business without exhibiting any courtesy. On the same percentage as you get the criminal personality in one out of every ten individuals, not an exact science in any reasonable way, you would get one that seemed extra nice, and such a nice personality that the first thing coming to your mind was, “How is it that this nice girl ended up here.”
-Oh –she answered me: -I’ve stabbed my ex.
I could sympathize with such predicament. In our mind, we tend to idolize those we feel attached to emotionally; hence, the saying goes that love is blind. It would be a fun time with the family. It would provide Isabel a valuable chance to get acquainted with my relatives. The music selected is raw, black, of course; but we have a collection of more than five hundred compact disks containing rock music.
Pink Floyd, Guns and Roses, the Beatles, Santana, the Doors, U2, Nirvana, Led Zeppelin, Radiohead, Queen, Stone Temple Pilots, the Cure, Aerosmith, Madonna, Jimmy Hendrix, Elvis Presley, Metallica, Pearl Jam, Smashing Pumpkins, Audioslave, Nine Inch Nails, Korn, and thousands, thousands more. Music has depressed me. As a depressed kid, I grew closer to those of us who were pessimists and in some ways I am very pessimistic. But I attracted people of my condition, and Bobbie, my cousin, showed me some rock music. Now, even though I love rock like you have no idea, the truth is I discarded largely listening to rock that was depressing. Instead, I shifted to new musical horizons. That’s how I found the music that always surrounded me, hip-hop, some rap even, reggae, reggae-ton, or Spanish reggae, and I must say that I am delighted. Somehow, I think that is part of growing genuinely, immersing in a different musical gender, tunes we detested at times, disregarding as offensive, ignorant, vulgar, were in fact rhythmical treaties, revitalized in comparison to its abstract and often indifferent rock, heavy guitar music was always a muse professing narcissistic tendencies. Compared to their counterparts, also branches of rock, like Rap and Hip-Hop are, there is an emphasis on carnality and violence. Of course, Rap and Hip-Hop will make the day, since rock has been declining into obscurity gradually; bands no longer get the attention they once got. These propellers of music, the musical carbohydrates, since who remembers what was a great song in Rap more than a year ago. Meringue and salsa, Spanish most popular exponents, along with some Reggeaton recently, like the case is with Tego Calderon. I will take some music. Isabel is on the phone, killing a little bit of time before we get ready to leave. I have told her that we will go as soon as I finished my goal of writing at least forty thousand words in these passages before the year ended. So far, I’m up to 39,512 words, and counting. When I began a few hours ago, I wrote more than five thousand words in a single sitting. What is the purpose of this, you ask? It’s a little bit of a few things: mental masturbation, association writing, exorcizing oneself, proves for once that I’m as prolific as I think. I doubt I will come up with the rest before leaving, but I will attempt to do so.

Creating momentum

How to create momentum? Well, see what is there for inspiration, what are the pros of the idea exposed, and exacerbate any potentiality, perhaps make some of our very own. What sophists we are. I called my aunt and heard her saddened at the possibility of us not attending. She argued that it was a time to spend with family and only once a year. She asked me directly if it had something to do with Isabel not wanting to attend, and I reassured her that that wasn’t the case. Right there and then, I decided heartedly to go with the family to encounter my other estranged family. I also called Bobbie and asked if he wanted to smoke something good, and he said it was always good to have some of that around. So, I will take some with me and share. Plus, I’ll have some before going, and buy a few drinks for the family. For now, I will also purchase a bottle of wine or something to drink before heading to Queens. We have planned to leave, as I suggested, in an hour or so. It’s only seven thirty-five in the evening. I said in an hour or so, but I thought to myself we would do so at ten o’clock, in more than a couple of hours from now. That would give us a chance to get drunk. Now the dog is barking because I put my coat on and took his leash on the side… he knows where are going together to buy liquor. So smart of him, well, that he got surely from me.

Now that I have eaten

Now that I have eaten and digested my food watching an episode never seen more than once before on the Dave Chappell DVD is time to write. It’s pleasant outside, weather-wise, not too cold just a bitter chill. Three possible ideas: one was absolutely self-indulgent, the other half selfish and not imposed, and thirdly, a boring obligating one. In the end, I have decided we will all go to Queens. That was, of course, the third choice and, to say it mildly, initially the least contemplated as an actualization. Now, it stands. Isabel is readying herself, along with her son, Vangelis. We will be on our way in a little while. I should probably take with me music, alcohol and pot, because we are going to party. The sad part is that my cousins might not be hanging around and then I’ll be stuck with Paola and my aunt and another half a dozen elders who will undoubtedly be gossiping behind our backs about us. If such is the case, I will venture out myself to wish them a Happy New Year and come back here later in the night. That was the second choice. The third, and most appetizing one, was to go to Kana by myself, and receive the New Year dancing, if possible, with a perfectly gorgeous stranger.
Selfishness is a dish served cold, and it can wait. Tonight is a time of reminiscence and what better place to squander it away than with those strangest of all creatures known as family. I am usually centered in my decisions and normally I would have opted for the second alternative. Just for the sake of appearances, I shall sacrifice a little and spend some quality time with them. After all, we can always call it a night and venture into Manhattan.
Vangelis was afraid of something happening when I suggested going to Times Square, but I told him he shouldn’t be afraid, whatever happens, happens, and we shouldn’t let fear rule us. I told him that if some losers had the proverbial balls to climb aboard a plane, take it hostage and then crash against skyscrapers, I didn’t find a reason why would I fear attending the massive madness in Times Square. In all the years that I’ve lived in this city, I never got to welcome New Years in Times Square. What other souls would give in order to have this opportunity? I shall do so at another time, not tonight. This coming year is a time of sacrifices in the name of others. I should continue to help my mother and sister in Colombia, and legalize Isabel’s situation, assist her finding another job, and move out of the Bronx. Some of the things I will do for myself include a dental work and publishing a couple of books. We will built something for a few people in my life, so that I can prosper in peace with myself and rely confidently on the idea that my existence has been not been completely wasted. Going back to school in summer to take courses on specific subjects, traveling outside the United States, and reading these words with a new smile on my face will be enough to live up to.
Now, I must proceed with caution, renounce any attempt to escape and flourish. I will call them and find out if my cousins will be staying until New Year’s arrival. If so, then I shall have no further excuse not to.

I'm starving here

I exercised and then showered, got dressed from the bottom up, and Isabel got home a little while ago complaining, as usual, about the mess caused during her absence. I tried cleaning up some of the conditions occasioned, but forgot details like the coffee stains on the stove, around the computer, her standards are just too high when it comes to neatness. That is fortunate for me. But maybe we could rid ourselves of the nagging. She cooks deliciously, a sexual Amazon who inherited all the hot tropic of her island, Dominican Republic, faithful as an ugly nun but a very nicely kept body and her share of good-looks. I am starting to have my doubts about going to Queens. Isabel is not crazy about the idea, and the only motive behind it is to save face with my family. There are technical obstacles, like the fact we both work tomorrow. She does so in the morning, and I, in the evening. I could, ideally, go by myself and excuse her for not being with me. And then leave, like I did on Christmas Eve. But the problem is I had said I would spend it with my family and my aunt asked for me. What I could do, and seemed excited to so, is go and have a blast myself. Then call Isabel and take her out later in the night. An idea she doesn’t seem to object to. Besides, I want to see them all before the year ends. Call my mother later on, have some champagne, and loud music. I have divided my blood ties, and whatever resolution I take, it will be for sane purposes. It’s hard to claim sanity given the circumstances under which I write. The smell of dog’s urine, the tapping of its nails as he moves about, Isabel’s complaints and now hunger makes harder to concentrate. Now, this last one, hunger, given the privileges of this society, is not a problem at all. Now that Isabel is on the phone, I will eat and get ready to leave the house. I think I might go to my aunt’s house and see what all the excuses of not going are really all about? True, it is far from here, and we don’t have a car. But it still is early and we might make an opportunity to escape this apartment, bursting out our safety bubble. As we have excuses not to do the things we set out to from the start, we also have the opportunity to find reasons justifying them. We could make of this what we want: go to the movies, visit my aunt and leaving before the New Year comes, party there or anywhere. The main idea should include being open and receptive to whatever scenario comes alive, follow our saner impulses, and live a little. Starving myself is not bringing me Nirvana.

Got to get ready

I got to get ready to start the new year. The first resolution, for which I won’t kill myself, is to demand more of myself. I will publish two decent books throughout the course of the next year, one based on these log entries and the other possibly a compilation of poems. For now, though, I will be glad just getting some other things done as well on a last-minute basis. One of them is having more than forty thousand words in store with this manuscript alone by tonight. I won’t polish it much, I want it medium rare and a bit indecent. Like the open orchid of a vulva. First, complete this entry, publish it and then have my regular routine of exercises, then take a shower and get ready to go to my aunt’s house. I have to get cracking, immediately. I haven’t even decided, for instance, what will I wear? Vangelis, too, has to ready himself. It will be three o’clock in fifteen minutes or so. I wanted to be in Queens by five thirty, to see if we get the chance of going to the movies once we arrive at my aunt’s. There is a movie theater nearby and we could take advantage of it. I proposed cooking some pork chops myself to Astrid, but she dismissed the idea gently. In the very least, I will take plenty of alcohol for the whole family to last through the night. Now, I must get ready and then come back and finish this log.

As eons pass, at least our hygiene has improved.

Waking up so late in the day the year ends! Bah, there’s no year ending, only in the societal mind. You can’t help, though, but feel a bit excited, not as much as most would. People await certain events of the year, like the day of their nativity or Christmas day, and even some, specially the older ones, despise the end of the year or the upcoming of a birthday because these events serve as a reminder of the inevitable passage of time that has largely been wasted by them. Instead, some celebrate their births at least once an hour every day of their lives. There are, among those, plenty of bitter writers living with contempt, and I, too, had more than my brush with that hopeless kind.
Little do many faithful modern Christians know the origin of Christmas, how a pagan celebration that began on the 17th and ended on the 25th of December, and it was a truly wild party. The neo-Christians, or Catholics, a branch out of Judaism (since Jesus himself was Jewish), wanted to do away with anything that represented that luscious Roman way. They found it hard to abolish the celebration, and instead chose the last day of such, arbitrarily, as Jesus Christ’s birth date. In reality, no one knows for sure the date of Jesus’ nativity. However, it gave identity and power to its myth, and propelled Catholicism as one of the most widely spread religions in the world. Ever since, the tradition stood. You’d be surprised how many educated individuals don’t know much about these events in which they invest plenty of their time and vitality, planning or detesting, or in a state of indifference, perhaps, but always affected somehow, someway by them. Of course, as time went by, how we celebrate has been altered repeatedly, impacted by many customs, civilizations, imperialist governments, the weakening and subsequent fall of the Roman Empire; colonialism. Nowadays, technology, as in the past literature, changed our world, one which is thriving continually. The arts always captivated the imagination of the people, and in the end, they were who dictated the pause and prose that could rival the gritty politics, always functioning in the interest of the richest and most powerful. They dictate the course of a nation but artists are masters in disguise, striking silently. In all forms, and by all means necessary, we are heard: books, music, films, painting, sculpture, etc. Film-makers, musicians, lyrical workers, gardeners and carpenters, to mention just a few. We stick to words, and leave others to judge. Our rights to party, part of our cultural inheritance, left us fending for our own skin and everywhere divided by the choice between pain and pleasure. Haven’t we felt ill for too long? I am a Christian by geographical chance, but I shower regularly and I know Como le llega el agua al coco (literally meaning, “How water travels all the way inside a coconut”, a popular proverb, more accurately translating: “The inner workings of this whole thing”).
I won’t talk much about calendars and some Roman officials to whom the addition of days and months was entrusted abusing their authority by adding more days so that they could stay in office longer. Not quite the Republican way nowadays, but close. I won’t go into details about the ancient Babylonians, but the fact is that the Romans changed many calendars, adding months and names so arbitrarily, why not change it once more when Christianity became the dominant religion in the empire during Constantine’s reign? Christianity wanted to do away with anything Roman that the sole notion of bathing one’s self was seen as a sin, since anything related to body and pleasure was forbidden. It was a religion of slaves, and it came to power, not coincidentally, in the already decadent Roman Era. An era known as the Middle Ages began. I guess I should go into detail so that my adversaries and friends do not see me as a fraud. Not knowing much about these affairs is okay, after all people in the Middle Ages didn’t know themselves as living in an era of darkness. To the extent of my knowledge, which is to the extent of the information I have exposed myself to, is disorderly vast and constantly striving. We also live in a very primitive way. We still function in norm with ancient myths, and no Calendar Reform will take place anytime soon. It seems as if many aspects of what we call reality, in fact is composed of fable-like elements, our faithful today know the teachings but rarely apply the wisdom of their prophets and masters. In any area of the arts, there are always icons, just as some have their idols. I want my word to mirror the mess emptiness has carved in us, and glue back together my shattered wings. Lick my wounds, sleep well and indulge every now and then on a daily basis, stand tall and march forward, sculpt my tongue, and lead. Wherever we shall step, we should leave ingrained our footprint so that others coming behind us can use as guides with our maps and their own itineraries. The Romans certainly knew that they could change and establish institutions capriciously; even the year, based erroneously on the birth of Jesus. Do you think that the people living before Christ were actually counting the years backwards till the birth of Jesus marked its forwardness? No one really knows exactly when was Jesus born, but since the early Romans couldn’t do away with the festivity, they officially made the last day of it, 25th of December, as the birth date of Jesus of Nazareth. As for the calendars, and the origin of the actual one, it’s confusing but not irrelevant. So, the Romans were capable of changing more their customs yet not so often their clothes. Our hygiene has improved but our myths prevail.

Briefly reacquainted

Tonight I worked up to six o’clock at night. In winter, nightfall happens before six o’clock. My appetite decreased slightly compared to the usual amount of calories I intake. I have my session of exercises to blame it on. I got briefly reacquainted with my recent past. The songs with which I lost weight through aerobics, for forty-five minutes jumping in the air rhythmically to the music, as if there was an invisible rope lashing out at the bottom of my feet. That was yesterday, and already today not only my metabolism incremented but I felt fresher. My knees were weak momentarily, but that’s about as negative side effects would go.