It was nearly a year ago today (wow). The outdoor markets in Valparaíso weren’t cutting it. I had found a good copy of Neruda’s early Crepusculario and some Fuentes novel about spies whose title I’ve forgotten. I was alone by that point having split with the friends I had been with a handful of days before. In the hostel that night at the computer I managed to find the address of seemingly the only multi-language bookstore in the entirety of V Región. The next day I picked up the late Gabriel García Márquez’s Story of a Shipwrecked Sailor along with Llosa’s collection of essays Making Waves on a recommendation and a whim by the interested shop owner. I don’t have much to say about anything and i don’t know why i’m sharing (which is why this is here and not on facebook), but the foreign comfort that story alone brought me then and now is something sé que voy a olvidar nunca para siempre.
Thank you for the fight Señor Márquez. Rest in peace.
With the great fire, an anniversary of a memorial coming up and now this another reason to return sooner than I could possibly spare.
Johnnie Walker///Red Label
The last pisco sour, huh?
I had the dumbest look on my face
- huh? yeah. get me drunk, okay?
airseck - a picture of all humanity
trees, plains, water, argiculture, cities.
I vomit from hours of standing
too much water, you’re oversaturated
he doesn’t care, he won’t remember
how many people does he see a day?
in a day it won’t matter… I lost
Sunday May 4 2013
There is a line somewhere between your jawbone and collarbone where your father snuck in.