January. February. March. April. Wait a minute, May? Really? Where? Could this all be because of Infinite Jest or is something else going on here? It was not for lack of material. I mean, did you see the Televisa-esk production, the one starring the ex-Playmate, and which pretended to be this country's Presidential debates? Bof. I won't even start. My blood pressure.
But I still have nothing to say. Or maybe I have the strength yet.
This is the longest period between entries since I began this experiment in August of 2008. At least I think so. So what happened? One might guess that I fell out of love with the city, that I am no longer curious and or inthralled by its idiosyncrasies, that I am bored, that I was killed by a narco shootout, which came to a tragic end in front of that bougie organic store in Condesa, the all-natural-living-lactobacteria-guaranteed-yogurt-tub splattering on the sidewalk as I freed my hand to grab what felt like a bee string but, you know, expecting to see nothing more than my hand upon further inspection, wait, blood? so I looked twice out of disbelief because I only checked in the first place as a formality, like when one stands up too quickly and bumps one's head on something sharp having miscalculated one's force + the objects distance but one's hand always comes back from the point of impact clean so I was probably pretty surprised by the color and the blossom on my shirt, that the story is already being adapted for the screen with (true) rumors that Michael Bay is bidding for the production and hopes for it to be out before Christmas 2013, that at Jose's suggestion I became an international prostitute and my pimp allows me a weekly 10 minutes (maximum) of interweb access, which I use to tell my parents that I joined a traveling circus as a trapeze artist, a long-held but dormant passion unmasked by a fascination with the pointed, pink and white striped tents that lay backdrop for the sequined elephants reflecting the morning light that I had passed on my way to work until the sparkles induced an insanity that beckoned me into the show.
But all of those theories are lamentably wrong. I guess I became too comfortable here. Too confident that I had it all figured out. Opted to do little else with my little free time other than be with what seemed like perfect-fit-friends in this adult playground. Kind of lost myself in between the glamor and the ugliness of social scenes in a sprawling metropolis. Equal and opposite reactions in the world.
Time for Round 2 (more like Round 20). But who is really counting.
But I still have nothing to say. Or maybe I have the strength yet.
But all of those theories are lamentably wrong. I guess I became too comfortable here. Too confident that I had it all figured out. Opted to do little else with my little free time other than be with what seemed like perfect-fit-friends in this adult playground. Kind of lost myself in between the glamor and the ugliness of social scenes in a sprawling metropolis. Equal and opposite reactions in the world.
Time for Round 2 (more like Round 20). But who is really counting.
