“Creative” Writing

I’m sort of stuck in this roadside cafeteria in the middle of nowhere.

Well, in the middle of a city that I despise most of the time, and I adore just when it snows. Maybe it’s more of a psychological “nowhere”, where few worthy people are left, or maybe it’s just all the dust that collects everywhere that makes me feel ill.

People coming and going; strangers carrying around their tales, just like a troubadour did before our father’s fathers. The wrecked remainders of better times; times when people still cared for each other, there were not that many idiot socialites who think that buying shit for children was actually a good social service.

The people around me look as if they were waiting for a miracle to happen; something to rock their socks off… to put them out of their misery (in a way). They all have this long face… and smoke their lungs out.

As a little  boy I wanted to have super human powers; I wanted to fly, to save the lady in distress, to help the helpless… now I just want to get out of here.

This guy, looks like a taxi cab driver. Yeah. Five o’clock shadow, average shitty attitude, and stares at the waitresses. I remember a guy who once gave me a ride… he was telling me how he took advantage of a drunken girl who fell asleep in his car. I told him to pull over and got down. I think it is sick to do that; I was not going to give the asshole another cent. Another time on a taxi cab, I was with David, and the driver started getting spooky; he was asking us if we had ever noticed that people who die in car crashes never had their shoes on. He tried to explain why the shoes come off during an accident. When he started to get to the gory details we reached our destination, paid and got down. We just looked at each other with a WTF look.

Why did I sit in the smokers’ section? It stinks, my eyes hurt, and my throat is killing me.

…today’s not self-destruction day…

Yeah, I want to die… one day, just not today.

Now, what if someone decided to commit suicide by spending countless hours on small roadside cafeterias as a passive smoker? Hearing the same useless rants over and over…

“Guess where I saw Pam?”

“He wasn’t wearing a condom.”

“My boss is doing his assistant”

Breaking news! This guy’s boss is doing his assistant. No, no, really… stop caring about the ozone layer, and the non-renewable energy sources polluting our children’s future home, so we can talk about some random idiot’s boss that’s doing his assistant.

Looking at the bright side, you could get to know a lot of different places if you chose to commit suicide as a passive smoker in small roadside coffees. Guess you could meet a lot of interesting people along the way. I guess you could do it Tori Amos-style… going around the US writing songs.

So this is it. Is this the world we all want to save?

There’s this advert about a cancerous child whose father loves unconditionally. He’s standing besides the sleeping child saying that regardless of his bad behaviour, his not getting home early, his marrying someone the father dislikes, or even shouting at his mother, he only wants him to get well. It’s a pretty advert… the lights, the acting, everything. Now, after this scene, there is an image of the Danone logo, and a text that says that Danone wants him to be healthy as well, so with every Danone purchase, they will donate to a cancer center. Right. Corporations like Danone need him to be alive. This week, instead of buying two yogurts, I’ll be getting one, and donating the rest to cancer research. I’d rather donate the money anonymously than have this hypocrite corporation donate the money as if they were oh so very generous. I hate the emotional blackmail of trying to sell a product claiming that they will be donating .0000001% of sales.

In a way this is all doomed.

Ah yes… and social networks. MySpace, Facebook, LinkedIn, Hi5, and all that.

I just learned a new one… if you’re too picky to actually reject someone from their requests, you might as well click on “accept” and after you do it, delete him/her from your friends list. That way (s)he will see the “X has accepted your friend request” but will not be able to access anything. Perfect. Now you can stab someone on the back with a nice, big smile, and say “Yeah, well, I accepted your request… I don’t know why it won’t work”.

And I insist: do we really want to save this world? I mean… all those penguins trying so hard to survive, and we drive our cars, complain when the internet connection is down, and bitch about the prices of gas.

If I were a penguin, I’d hate humans so much, that I’d do everything in my power to make life harder for them… that’s if I don’t get hunted down by some avid “sportsman” who hunts for fun.

How much time have we wasted online? And that’s going to make me a better person…

I was so bored lately that besides getting a job, I took some old porn magazines I had and decided to experiment with them. I did the same things I do every weekend, but every time I parked somewhere, I dropped a magazine near the car. I wanted to see if the magazines would be there by the time I came back.

Guess what?

*drum rolls*

None of them were there when I came back.

Now what can be in the head of the person who picks a porn magazine on the street?

“Hey man, I found a cool magazine around… I don’t know if someone has jerked off with it, but anyway I’ll pick it up”.


Very very disgusting.


Maybe it’s just me, but come on… you find porn in the street and you pick it up? Yeah… like I could know if the owner of this magazine was a hygienic person.

I left the camera at home, so there are no photos to document my findings.

Art… yeah… N’s got a huge collection of cool books. I guess it comes with the whole Art-History-mayor thing. We’re also getting cool books for both. I thought it was a big step, but well… it just felt cool. And how to forget the random coolness… I was listening to Duncan Sheik, and somehow I told N that he did the songs for the Broadway musical “Spring Awakening”, which he played in the Seattle concert I went to. She said she actually saw the musical when we met in NYC after I had to fly back to Seattle. Awesome… like random rays of light that cross paths and meet.

Best of all: there’s no need to brag how she’s been to Broadway; she knows where she’s been.

I’ll elaborate on some books later on.

Less talky, more worky, right?

Hope life catches you well…