No, no ... In a Saturday morning and while reading a book by Ray Loriga, in which the protagonist, the most depressing of the earth, much like me, no if it's the best time to write about yourself. Also, if I do, it will be well, as I not correct or anything. Directly. Whatever happens. I can not imagine the result. Anyway, here we go.
Let's start with last night. It was Friday, and like every Friday I started getting nervous since the morning. During the week, more or less, routines keep ghosts away, but on weekends, when one has decided not to have a life "conventional" (or has not been the conventional choice because he was breastfed), must be bright enough to fill the spaces.
had several plans to go to "fun." Go to an opening a gallery with Sergio and Marja, or a floor opening party a few co-workers, or a simple beer with a girl, which I watched for a while and we're still friends, and his group. Apparently
could be a good Friday night. But like most of the weekend started to auto discard all plans. The weather did not help. A gray day, gray, wet and ended in a huge tormentone in the afternoon, made my spirits were at rock bottom.
As large groups oppress me more and more, in my mind, I chose to go to the gallery where I had like to talk to anyone. In addition, intellectual I'm afraid. They are too "cool" and straight to me. Neither read nor write, but many parties are intellectuals where to learn a lot. In any case I called Sergio to delay the meeting time. I put the rain as an excuse, faithful ally of my mood. Meanwhile
take a couple of beers with two colleagues in my company. Cone them feel comfortable. I can talk about my weaknesses and listen to theirs. And sometimes even laughed. They are outcasts like me. Everyone working on this site have a similar profile. Or rather, we have very different histories but a common denominator which is not normal. Finally
cancel with Sergio because the gallery this far. My colleagues are going to the party, which I am also invited but did not want to go. My friend sent him an sms saying I have physiotherapy and health comes first. All I answer or look at me with a clear gesture, "and, as always. Never point at anything. You are a bore. "
are right. I take my bicycle and I come home in the rain. Me as a "Shoarma" before climbing on the bar downstairs, alone. I enter home, hardly greet my roommates, I take a shower and crawl into bed and read. It is eleven.
is not anything wrong with not going out on a Friday night but the bad news is why. I'm starting to disconnect from things. Speak with people, I have friends, do things, but nothing ends of filling and almost everything I am too lazy. Sometimes I look at the "homeless" and start to fear. No, I look sad stories because they have nothing, that's not important, but the psychological whys.
difficult it is to write about oneself, and not wanting to be avoided lies. It is true that you do not have passions, I have. However, I have changed much in recent years, what I want and what I am. And in some ways for good, but sometimes I'm still lost. Because life is exciting, but difficult.
worst thing is that you know you have everything in order to be happy and just leave out the opportunities and make efforts very nonspecific and misdirected.
the love and not talk. My mother. I met a lot of girls in recent times. All colors, styles and ideologies. Impossible. Not once has produced the magic spark that makes you want to be with that person at all times, whether awake or asleep, and float above the world hand in hand. Yes, those who feel corny and you can not buy with money or with effort. Well
. I had promised to write a little about myself. But only slightly. I could go to infinity, and part would be true and some exaggeration and falsehood. But it's time to go out, go to the gym, shopping books and cream I need for my battered dry skin. Also I have to work and finish reading the book by Ray Loriga and who knows, tonight, probably looking for a friend and have some beers and watching some girl away. Nor is it a drama, it's just that these clouds and constant rain are my spirits down a little a bit. But thank God, or whatever, I'm cyclothymic and lows that after this I have also moments of total satisfaction with my life.
Let's start with last night. It was Friday, and like every Friday I started getting nervous since the morning. During the week, more or less, routines keep ghosts away, but on weekends, when one has decided not to have a life "conventional" (or has not been the conventional choice because he was breastfed), must be bright enough to fill the spaces.
had several plans to go to "fun." Go to an opening a gallery with Sergio and Marja, or a floor opening party a few co-workers, or a simple beer with a girl, which I watched for a while and we're still friends, and his group. Apparently
could be a good Friday night. But like most of the weekend started to auto discard all plans. The weather did not help. A gray day, gray, wet and ended in a huge tormentone in the afternoon, made my spirits were at rock bottom.
As large groups oppress me more and more, in my mind, I chose to go to the gallery where I had like to talk to anyone. In addition, intellectual I'm afraid. They are too "cool" and straight to me. Neither read nor write, but many parties are intellectuals where to learn a lot. In any case I called Sergio to delay the meeting time. I put the rain as an excuse, faithful ally of my mood. Meanwhile
take a couple of beers with two colleagues in my company. Cone them feel comfortable. I can talk about my weaknesses and listen to theirs. And sometimes even laughed. They are outcasts like me. Everyone working on this site have a similar profile. Or rather, we have very different histories but a common denominator which is not normal. Finally
cancel with Sergio because the gallery this far. My colleagues are going to the party, which I am also invited but did not want to go. My friend sent him an sms saying I have physiotherapy and health comes first. All I answer or look at me with a clear gesture, "and, as always. Never point at anything. You are a bore. "
are right. I take my bicycle and I come home in the rain. Me as a "Shoarma" before climbing on the bar downstairs, alone. I enter home, hardly greet my roommates, I take a shower and crawl into bed and read. It is eleven.
is not anything wrong with not going out on a Friday night but the bad news is why. I'm starting to disconnect from things. Speak with people, I have friends, do things, but nothing ends of filling and almost everything I am too lazy. Sometimes I look at the "homeless" and start to fear. No, I look sad stories because they have nothing, that's not important, but the psychological whys.
difficult it is to write about oneself, and not wanting to be avoided lies. It is true that you do not have passions, I have. However, I have changed much in recent years, what I want and what I am. And in some ways for good, but sometimes I'm still lost. Because life is exciting, but difficult.
worst thing is that you know you have everything in order to be happy and just leave out the opportunities and make efforts very nonspecific and misdirected.
the love and not talk. My mother. I met a lot of girls in recent times. All colors, styles and ideologies. Impossible. Not once has produced the magic spark that makes you want to be with that person at all times, whether awake or asleep, and float above the world hand in hand. Yes, those who feel corny and you can not buy with money or with effort. Well
. I had promised to write a little about myself. But only slightly. I could go to infinity, and part would be true and some exaggeration and falsehood. But it's time to go out, go to the gym, shopping books and cream I need for my battered dry skin. Also I have to work and finish reading the book by Ray Loriga and who knows, tonight, probably looking for a friend and have some beers and watching some girl away. Nor is it a drama, it's just that these clouds and constant rain are my spirits down a little a bit. But thank God, or whatever, I'm cyclothymic and lows that after this I have also moments of total satisfaction with my life.
