I'm looking at this blue towel while I think about
these words. The towel is nothing but a squared shape, so I'm having squared thoughts:
an open door, a closed window, a laptop shut, a cell phone on, a TV, a remote
control, a cushion, a carpet, the room
of the apartment, my desk, the sticky
notes pack, everything with four sides, with four angles. What if we flip it
all and ourselves with it? What if the depth lies only in our minds? Well, if
not, angles definitely change depending on where you stand. That could explain why
the tantrums when others just observe and remain quiet.
Drawers. Some of them don’t get open for a while. Sometimes
they work better for memories than pictures themselves. You find that thing you thought it was cool
to have, but you never really used it, you just put it there. Now that you’re
looking at it you remember what happened when you were buying it, what you were
told, you didn’t believe it, but now it’s true, so you put the thing back in
the drawer, and you keep the memory for some time in your head, and acknowledge
that had to happen, that it’s better this way, that you in fact never got the
chance to choose, that you were more like a witness and no photo told you that
before. Now you have to stop looking at the towel, get dressed and go to work, and
set your mind on what you need to do, and please stop using social media like
you do…
How is the shape of the void? Is it a circle with a
hole? How about Israel depth? Perhaps the depth is built with our issues, all
those issues we’ve been collecting and treasure like remembering them was
something worth to do. How much have we learned from them. I see myself falling
apart in silence and there’s nothing there to bring up for making anything
better. Even good memories lose their power to cheer you up when the present is
so hope-consuming. So we just have this void to visit and contemplate, like a
lake, waiting for anything to pop, to splash. A leaf fallen from a tree and taken by the
wind to flow you, with you; while the silence greets all those memories the
same wind brought you when touching your face. I just need more money, and perhaps more time with myself.
Shades, I can see the lamp on their reflex. The house
is dark and the lamp is on, even at daytime. The sound of a hairdryer, the sound of a Sunday evening that awaits the
routine to start again. High temperature in the body. The month is about to end,
and I woke up with this feeling of frustration that we pay to be fined. I was
fined with two hundred dollars by a company named LMS Parking. They are in
charge of giving us (we, the residents of this complex) this type of service
where my car has to be registered, so I
won’t be fined, and my car wouldn’t be locked. I want to understand why, as
residents, we are not being called, and
told first, as a courtesy: dear resident,
based on our records, your car is not registered, we kindly ask you to do it so. Instead, the
administration just send a general email stating, pretty much, that if the car
is not registered, it will be locked,
and you will be fined. Just like that. It felt rude, like they don’t care, like
it is what it is. Another day comes by.
Costumer care, sometimes an empty definition. If it’s
in person, you have to wait on a large line and spend a time you don’t have
just make a point that, perhaps, it
won’t be considered. So you call, and the waiting is even worse. Then you have
the reviews, so you let go your
frustration to no one, and then you get an empty answer like: so sorry to hear that.
It is happening in every level, in every field. The illusion of not being alone
tend to get a serious strike when you actually have to use social media for a
real personal matter. In other words, if your problem is not part of a trend,
then it won’t get any attention, so you better find a trendy concern to make
opinions, or else you better remain quiet and take your frustration on any
other thing that has nothing to do with your problem. This is our world now:
Parking services. They don’t serve me at least.
