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!
