There comes a moment when you feel much better. You look at yourself in the mirror. The soundtrack goes with the moment. Life is passing by at a generous pace again. Fast enough to be fun and slow enough to bear, and to watch.
Ideas are coming by the dozen. No time to write. Its all incorporating into a crazier creature than I am. I want to be crazy. That’s the only salvation. Everyone wants to be something they are not. It’s called evolution and it’s 3:17 pm on a 30th of December year 2006.
I should shower. Small variations, but the main goal is in my head. This guy teleported in the TV series I’m watching. Evolution, right?
2 am
Here I am. Changing, adapting to the nuclear wasteland. Back from that stupid job all I want to do is move. I want to get drunk. I can’t believe tomorrow I have a whole free day.
I was about to pay my debt today. I don’t even remember if it’s the only one I’ve had. With this job I could pay every money debt I’ve had. I would just need to remember whom to pay to and how much. How could I pay my parents all the money that I owe them? I once blatantly lied to them. I paid for an abortion. How fucked up could I be? How scared? I even remember the amount. It wasn’t that much. It’s like a month worth of work, minus a couple of wine bottles. Fuck. I try really hard not to hide from it, but it’s hard. Is it ok to move on?
I told them I was going to move. That’s why I’ve felt miserable all this time. Probably.
I don’t want to go back to the past. I just wish I was brave enough to face my responsibility.
I know it’s pathetic but for a moment I feel like I’m talking to someone. And I don’t mean the time I publish this, if I ever do, but I mean this: The very moment when I’m writing, typing this ideas down, talking to myself on the background of my own mind, the music is too loud for me to hear my conversation. But I can keep track in this page. Anyways. Sure enough, the moment I realize what’s going on, I understand in the end I am talking to you. A reader. Because this is dead if it’s not read. I suppose it was too much for a stupid fuck like I was back then to bear. I was freaking out... it was the year 200? I think.
On the other hand I’ve been a wannabee all my life. I’ve gotten excited at concerts of bands I don’t even like. I try to get people to like me by being open and friendly to their positions.
And still... I feel like I have the right to start over. To let go off the past. Divide between what’s gone and what is yet to come. And also, what stays.
Most of the old songs sound like crap. I can’t even touch the pixies albums. However I come across David Bowie’s Outside happy to find that We Prick You sounds brand new. Like the day I knew it, about 6 years ago. Because Revolution comes in the strangest ways, and I rather be inside you. I remember that plastic coat. It was supposed to look like leather. I used to shave my head then. Just a pose too. It was comfortable. And looked neutral. I liked it. But it can be way more neutral to have hair. You just need to not paint it. So I guess Argelia can stop worrying now about me sharing the secrets of hair dying entitled to the punks. Haha. That was funny. I suppose it was a moment of confidence.
Adolescents can be anal. I was, even up until my 25th birthday. What a loser. And no. Because I am crawling out of my skin. You know? Adapting. Like a snake does.
Do I really have a plan? I better believe I do because, otherwise, I’ll shit my pants. I mean. I can barely support myself here with all this opportunities above other people.
There’s something really cool on the headphones. I won’t say the name. Juan played me this musician. Bio tonic... there. I said it.
Probably it’s best if I don’t think about it. Maybe I should just take it slow. Or maybe I should throw a party with candies and progressive...like this Doof tune.
im turning in... 3:20 am
