Zero page II

 

Hello! It feels surreal to actually think you might be reading this. I still gravitate and wonder where all these thoughts go when I’m not thinking. You see, I find hard to get they are stored somewhere in my head like our mind features a type of hard disk. I find it hard because memories change, and they ended up attached to a feeling, a feeling that can turn into something else. For example, the anger linked to a moment can turn into resentment, or forgiveness, and so the memory. It’s almost impossible to keep it as it happened. Garcia Marquez said, or so I read, that life is not that one we lived but the one we remember, and how we remember it to tell others about it. I’m translating here. It might come out a little different, but you get me. Especially you! Yeah, the voices, but we’re not paying attention,  and I’m still hoping for the financial help. So how do we bring them up to context. That’s another one: context. Are we going to be understood soon?

 

Sunday night. Too much food. Too many beers. I feel like I can’t do what I must when sitting in the bathroom. The let go is not happening and there are things I have to do after. This is another episode of time discount. I’ve said already that the time spent while waiting in the car should be discounted. Well, this time Too. I’m going to stand up willing to come back again because I didn’t do it. I can wait a little longer, but I don’t know how much would it be.  It’s better to cut now and restart later, despite the hours of sleep. I will compromise them. There’s always something.  Something’s always wrong,  like the song. That’s so nineties,  right? Little problems germinated in our routines, so they can grow. We raise them, indeed. Somehow we are prone to keep them for a while before taking care of them. A problem is always a good topic to start a conversation, and when it is used for such purposes, it works out pretty well as catalyst to get people’s opinion and therefore judge them. Does she care about me? What was that she told me when I talked about my problem? It is time consuming and I’m not sure if we get any discount on it. I realized they are several the scenarios where we spend – waste – our time… and it won’t come back. I have this feeling that I could have spent it more wisely,  but then I check the phone and I read that I spend about ten hours weekly on social media. That’s enough evidence to understand why I’m getting dumber while I think I’m smarter.  It’s funny because in this case, our perception works as it does with a mirror: what you see is sort of beautified by idea of oneself in front of others. So we might not be as cute as we internally see ourselves, or even uglier, fatter, shorter, more repulsive than we actually think we are if that’s the case. Shall we be sad at it? Of course not. This is life and it shouldn’t be wasted through social media scrolling.  What if I’m repulsive? Try to understand why you are and before whom. There might be a chance you’re biased by the persistence of being accepted where you don’t belong, or feel related to. Am I biased? I have to discover it. Are these words biased? Absolutely. That’s why love writing.  Nobody cares about my thoughts but God, so I just write and write until I get rich or bored or both. In the meantime, poverty keeps me inside paragraphs of self acknowledgement. Learning how to look up while I’m down. I’ve been down for too long but I won’t complain. I know nothing else, and my concept of further is limited by my obligations,  so I just gravitate among the words I serve and the music I play for myself. Don’t get me wrong.  I have a lot of joy along with this. I have personal accomplishments and a beautiful family. So let’s keep this life going and provide whatever lies inside of me to tell about my people, and myself.  See you later.

 

A rainy morning.  Eggs are being cooked.  Coffee is brewing.  I haven’t been able to enjoy these magnesium nights. We’ll get to it. Back to 2023, the need to move was unavoidable.  This is forth place and we’ll probably keep going until we find the right one. Tuesday is on the move. I came early for work, I have just spent like forty minutes only on social media. I didn’t get anything from it: no news, no knowledge, no thoughts, just forty minutes away from my life. I’m hungry now. I was laughing at myself because every time I raise my arms the sweater I’m wearing goes up too and my belly gets exposed. This could be something when we’re chubby. We are always some sort ashamed for not having a better body. It is like social media, like smoking: we know what we have to do, only we don’t want to, and that opens up a variety of meanings. What do we want? We get this mix from our desires, our duties and the alienation of both. I need a coffee. Once again, I need another job. It would be great if it could be at writing but I’ve been bypassed too many times. I’ve been rejected more as a writer than as a lover, and I’ve been rejected at lot. So, back in here, back again to 2023. Winter was over and spring came full of hope. I was reading about the block chain technology. As many others, I also fell into the illusion of earning money without working too hard for it. I read about SEC and Tokens. To be honest, I have no clue. I still don’t understand it, but then it felt like wisdom granted from the Akhasic Records, everything looked so clear at that time. Now such knowledge seems to fade away like the smoke, like the faith. Like the money I earn from hard work.  This story won’t promise an end, perhaps closure; a closure of an era. We need to be able to look back and understand that we had to leave Venezuela. That despite how bad we miss Caracas, we had to tell her see you later, and later won’t be any soon. Let’s bring new music to our ears. Let’s contemplate our current surroundings.  There’s silence,  I can hear the fingers dancing on computer keyboards. Each cubicle is covered. A need for privacy. Someone doesn’t want to be seen nor head. The air-conditioning is fine. It’s raining outside. I can hear a few coughs from time to time. I close my eyes and go back…