Vaya que se tenia tiempo de no escribir por acá. Good morning Sweden. Reporting live from the commuter train. It has been a long time since I decided to tackle the keyword and see what gaga came out. Many changes have occurred since last. I still consume spirits like never before and it probably is taking a toll on my constitution. My ganas is barely functioning as it is. I do have some ork like the Swedes are wont to say but it is diminishing like a candle on the wane. I am still highly sensitive to other approaching me or being I my vicinity. I just do not know how to bock others energy or my brain narrative feeding into every change in the air. I do not read books as often as I say I ought and as for exercise none of that either. Am heading back to the mother land for the summer vacation and I am making it a me vacation although they have always been about me only. My hindsight radar is active I see. I still cannot communicate as I wish with my kin. The older I the harsher the reality of my solitude. I try to convince myself it is divine will which has me on this path. I solace myself as well that at the very least no one comes to harm during the period of my life. I have also made the decision to go back to Mexico, to be true this ain’t no life for a Mexican. What it mostly comes down is that living alone, working and doing this and that with no real social interactions except from work which even that comes with strings attached. I often think a game changer would be to me someone new but I am rather immature. I am 57 and that limits my preferences for a partner. Most people in my age have already giving up on life already, or so it seems. I do not want to sound drastic but Swedish society in itself is self isolating. Ageism plays a whole new ball field in small towns. I have also entertained the notion of moving to Spain or Portugal. I want to do this by my 60th birthday or if I win big by chance earlier.
Other than that life is on everyday. What amazes me is how lucky I am regards my health. Considering how much of a dipsomaniac I am. The good shepherd doth bless me surely. Funny thing about my ganas is that when push comes to shove I can run or move fast, pick up on my reading and so forth. As for my career, this new colleague of mine has been quite an eye catcher when it comes to my third language teaching. Mostly because I focus on teaching how to study with simple study discipline methods.
Day two of perdition if that’s even a word. May 23. Superstitions are flying amok in my head. I informed the cousins up in Frisco of my arrival. I have kept it a secret as far as I could and as far as I have allowed my dipsomania in as much as I cannot really control it. There were far too many thoughts in my grey matter and now it seems I have nothing else left to express. I remember now, my spirituality. What a mess, my conversations with the almighty Judeo-Christian god are reduced to giving thanks and being grateful of the opportunity to be a part of his or her grand designs. Other than that I feel great and my soul requires but the bare minimum, touch and go if you will and am off to the material world as if nothing. My new god is fear of my own self. I am scared of my actions and interactions, that I may say something wrong and fear the wrath of God upon me for allowing my vortex of emotions to dictate what my fingers do out of control.
I have a long day ahead of me and I am at most 80% recovered. An optimist’s perspective. Maybe coffee will do the trick. I wonder if I will get a tattoo like I entertain in my head. I ought to write more often. It relaxes me and keeps my head elsewhere.
Luto en la familia. O lo que queda de la familia. Is there family in this constellation called me? Juanita, passed away on the night of the 22nd as is my understanding. She was always nice to us. Many times she would bring huge blocks of cheddar cheese and we’d live of that for weeks ahead. Mostly roasted quesadillas. She cared about her aunt a lot. She always stood by my grandma till her last days. That was family, buenos zacatecanos. In my younger years as a teenager she always welcomed me to her house in National City. First generation Mexican American but more Mexican que los nopales. She loved to dance in la Estrella. I can imagine her and mom partying to the hilt. That family even gave employment to my grandma when my grandma’s sister got sick. Grandma would commute to National City, Coolidge avenue. As I write this I realize what a huge chunk of life just this woman was, specially since I could just come and go as I pleased in the US. I suppose that her passing away means no more National City either. Will I ever encounter Gina or Sofia? Hard to say.
So, as we were saying. Maybe I ought to resort to we instead of I. I wonder if there are more advanced keyboards. Mine feels rather antiquated. We need to look into that. Nice weather we’re having these past days. It’s enough writing for today.
Gracias a Dios estamos aqui. We get to enjoy another da in our swirling sphere. That kind of messed me up when I learned that. We are travelling as we speak. By we I mean the planets that accompany us in this journey because one lovely turn of events and no more is the new song. I have been telling people that I am soon travelling. I have chosen not to divulge that. Mostly outta superstition. Or what not. I am at odds when it comes to my belief system. For some things I am a ravaging anti believer of the whole lot and then I believe minute stuff like superstitiouness mumble jumble. And then proceed to thank the Almighty for it. I mostly ignore myself on those matters.
Resaca. Elections in Spain. I still feed my grey matter crap. I guess abusing malt ain’t helping it. I miss having a her. It hurts being one. Am used it by now but certainly would not be bad if a her would enter my life. Who am I anyways? Work, mostly uneventful. I seem to be less insecure in my duties. I would seem the nice weather is here to stay. I wonder why aren’t they Russian people revolting or why they have never revolted against their leaders. It is odd at the highest levels. Was Yeltsin the only hope ever? The closest they ot to a sense of critical thinking? Not the we in the West are too critical of ourselves. I remember Perestroika as a fresh wind of hope with Gorbachev. And the early days of Putin too. Why are the Russian people so passive and yet have a tough reputation? Why can’t they introduce a new brand of the West instead. It is all a mystery. And no, I do not mean they’re attempts at inducing the West into a clone of their type of society. They are good at propaganda, that is for sure. Will Russia ever be like us? What is so scary of our way of living, our lifestyle that Russians can not fathom?