Saturday, March 14, 2015


I'm glad that things aren't getting worse, well at some point they are, but they are no worries. Everything isn’t permanent anyways; that can be either a good thing, or a bad thing. It doesn't surprise me anymore that some people decide on a whim, that their choices can ripple, and their voices can't be a piece of cake. So, why do I say these? It really is easier to write things down, than to do them, in fact, there are more things we have yet to do and they are nearing.

It isn't really nice talking about our lives sometimes, because no one could understand. So we write it down somewhere safe, where they can't be read by many friends, where we can either shed tears or laugh it all down for crying out loud. These are impermanent words that are bound to be forgotten, because really, they don't know you.

It happens as well when you are alone in the city, with all the buildings standing and people walking under the lucid sun. I did that. First, I sat down outside a restaurant without ordering anything. I just came from the gym and I saw a couple looking after their ponytailed girl holding french fries powdered with cheese. The girl's fingers were also powdered with cheese. She cleaned her fingers up after she had exhausted all of it. I thought she wanted more, but she was sleepy, and her parents were hurrying up. I stayed there for an hour, looking around for things that might catch my eyes. I said maybe I can write about it in the future, and when I write about it they could sound more interesting. But no. I was bored just hearing murmurs from the parents sitting with their kid on the other side. I just thought of having a baby some time, that can solve it. So I bent a little and looked down at the ground floor and saw a white car in front of the hotel and watched.

The chauffeur went out of the car with a buffet of white flowers in white ribbon. He was attaching it in front of the car. He left the flower and he went back to the car and then opened the front hood. He ran back and then fixed the dear ribbon, forced it and knotted in the radiator and the buffet didn't fall. He was heavily perspiring, wearing a black shirt and dark jeans. He was a wreck, but he fixed the ribbon and car was okay.

I stood up after he went away and I took a walk to find a jar of whey protein powder. I went downstairs and saw different faces. I went around and asked the guard where the sports store was. The guard was puzzled and I saw his wrinkles, even though he was young. His forehead was shiny, of course with wrinkles. He looked like a dark wet chewing gum. He said he was just newly hired and thought there were a few. So I went to the other mall hoping that there were any. I watched my steps and saw the beige staircase and thought of a caramel cake. I found a sports house and went in. There was air con inside, but it still felt so warm. I knew there wasn't any because the seller said they didn't sell some. She was lying down and sleepy. I told myself why everyone was sleepy, and I went down using the escalator.

I took a walk on the side street and I went to see a garden surrounded by buildings, it was very warm. I needed to cool off. So I discovered that there was another mall when I arrived at the garden. The garden had a pond with little fishes getting lost. There were tons of light brown blocks on the floor and around the pond. I went in the mall, still with a container of whey in my head. I went up and ended up in a bookshop. It felt really cold and I wasn't wet anymore. I said I might get sick, but fuck off.

The bookshop was full of hippie looking teenagers who didn't seem to like reading. They looked all good with thin clothes and short skirts. They looked cool. I went out because I didn't like to be with those cool hippies, I went out of the mall. I walked in a dark passageway in the garden and went out of it, it was pretty cool, I walked by a coffee shop with white people sitting outside smoking. I was perspiring again because I walked a little faster. My jeans, it went warmer. So I realized that I haven’t eaten yet, I kept on walking looking for food. I reached the corner of the street and went inside the Family Mart in front of the McDonald's. I was hungry, but I chose a cheap soya drink to curb it off a bit. I just wanted to sit down again, and to watch. I sat there behind the transparent glass watching shiny cars' reflection of wobbling shiny buildings. I watched people walk in and out of the store and I realized it was in the corner. I sat still and the guard was kind of watching me, and others, waiting for us to do something stupid in his shiny store.

That day was fun, in a way that my eyes were well fed and my calves worked well. Now, isn't it really nice talking about our lives sometimes? I doubt it. It really is easier to just write them down than to do them. I must say I liked experiencing them more than writing them, but I didn't say I didn't like writing them. Everything, like this one is fleeting, but each of it sounded a little bit more and more of like myself. It wasn't mundane because I chose what to do. Why be sad when we have a choice?

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