Sixth page III

 

I better go back and check what’s going on with the system.  That was yesterday,  and it’s still so. I came late today, I was doing some business in the morning,  let’s hope it works out. It did, as matter of fact. The sky held this view as though it was going to snow, but we’re still in autumn,  so it was more a painting to my eyes rather than an actual fall of snow. Grass is still green, it is getting more and more leaves on top of it every time. They provide the wind with an extra percussion; they are the cymbals of the landscape. Like a hi-hat during a disco beat: pointing, making you remember, evocate. It’s chilling.  A good time for making love, for remaining naked and in each other’s arms. A good time to reduce the world into a bed…  stay there, stay there until blood pressure does its magic, so we get ready for another round. I’m hungry,  but just a bit thirstier, so I get some water. I sit on the couch in the living room… try to have a sort of balance of past facts, up to the present, all in my head, in silence; looking up with the lights off. Blinking, once, twice, and as many times as anxiety pushes for. It’s not panic, not yet at least. It’s just that, for some irony, worries come right after sex. Sunday, evening, probably the first of the last days for this text. My eighty-thousand words project will have stop at half of it. It was great to try, but I don’t get paid for writing; unfortunately for me. May these words I’m serving here, a bit of reflection, a bit of a story, and a bit of just fiction; a message for my baby boy – I love you too much – and, or, any upcoming eyes who dare spend some time here: welcome! And Thank you! Monday, an expecting morning.  News to be briefed about and decisions to be made because of. It started cold, chilling, and also quiet. Machines have been turned on .  The sound of industry, once again, once more. Question-answer communication: commands.  Yes, No. Here. There. Boxes are coming down to the pack stations. Am I going to miss all this? Who knows! Routines are stronger than passions, or something like that. I’m waiting for an answer,  and not a unpersonal one, by the way. The answer came. I think it’s a good one. Let’s see.

 

There’s a story here. The story of the broken glass. Time, money, both wasted, a lose-lose situation. I came up with this thing that, in order to safe some time, I start the car and let it heat fir a few minutes, so when it comes to leave, it will be ready to go then. Old habits die hard, right? I locked every door because… because that’s what we do back home. There’s no way a car is left open where I am from. I can’t help it, even by being conscious that I must leave it open, I lock it as a reflex. So I did it, as usual, only this time I left the keys inside. It was getting late, and it was cold already. I went upstairs to find something to open it with. I couldn’t. I don’t know anything about these things. The day before I had seen a tree with some branches looking like falling down. I thought I should move the car some spot else, but I didn’t, I just forgot about it. Now the car was on, with the keys inside, and a branch of a tree ready to fall down over it… at least I didn’t break the glass myself. Nature took care of my situation and, as these words take place, (and form of a message) I’m sitting here, several miles away from work, not getting any money while waiting for the glass to be replaced, and not before a whole trip under this chilling weather. All this with the purpose of saving time. I want to go to the bathroom,  but the adrenaline won’t let me. I said that this journey is coming to a stop, to a cut. I think I might have a few moments before that. This one for instance,  despite the bad time, I managed to serve a few words about it. Everyone was mad at home, and they have a point: these times are already pushing us to waste,  why helping them waste more? It is funny, even cute, when I am in situations like this one (more often that I would like to, by the way) and someone from the staff asks If I’m dropping the car off to pick it up later… I mean, sure! Only that I can’t afford it. So waiting, meaning wasting, seems to be unavoidable for people like myself.  There is a guy in front of me working with his laptop, taking advantage of the situation, surely making some money, or at least spending this time wisely (I assume we all have a broken glass here) and I, I am writing, documenting my experience for, for my own amusement,  I guess. Laughing internally at my own expense; what else can I do? I do have a laptop, but it’s at home, and I don’t really work with it. I thought such a day will come soon, but soon seems far from where I stand (or sit) at least I am not just lost in Instagram.  I haven’t even opened it. That’s something,  considering the circumstance I am under. The day didn’t end that bad. I want to believe that this broken glass situation represents a metaphor in my life, symbolizing somehow the break of a past to start over new. Good things happen too and we must embrace them, not with irony, but with hope. Family comes first. I’m going to have some wine, surely.  See you later!