A pain in the ass post dedicated to my friend Joe Gallina
There is a dignity that the winner can not reach - Borges
Performed as a junkie out of a polygon I sat in Ecuador of the stairs to rub the temples and thinking about the brown that was on the shoulders.
time ago I decided to break the tyranny of time so I never watch so I diverted my attention to the clock needles that presides over the access door to the office, and then I remembered that two months has been screwed.
useless as a stopped clock, ha, how I felt about the task at hand.
The factory is expanding at my feet between blue and yellow and I still had much work ahead, both to be able to afford to stop without the result would suffer too.
lot of work ahead and short term, but come on, there on those stairs, all against me, was as comfortable as a canine eating sunflower seeds in a park, because deep down, I know no other way of swimming that faced current.
So I reached for the pocket looking for a last cigarette, but I only had one Chust residue of a week end it had no happy ending, and damn the Chinese burner would not work, plus she approached and see at close range is like walking on broken glass with their feet full of salt.
"A little late to walk in here right? - I said standing in front of me, pointing at his watch and gave me a disapproving look, I guess that's my total disregard for the health rules, bah, could once again live with his rejection.
"Much to do yet
-Yo ya me voy which is 8 pm, if I can do anything for you tell me ...
" What can you do for me and he said several times
"Yeah, but that does not you may have - fun while he said he turned to get away permanently by the door leading to the parking lot - indeed, To see if you update the blog! - I cried as I threw half smile like a Batarang and I look away up to not being hit between the eyes, when I noticed those who had died in office clock, 8:00, go all broken watches They are right twice a day.
Perhaps after all there was hope for me.
- No, the end will be better than a fucking atomic clock - I thought as I finally lit the damn burner of Mr. Chen and I could bring the rest of the cigar-rolling poor shit, then when inhaled with pleasure the waste of a night of excess remembered his half-smile and thought for Infras like me that would amount to about ten thousand kisses to pay at least ... . So I picked it up from the ground to check that had not yet lost its luster and a second standing on his throne of black metal leg that loser was happy with the wreckage of his life.
I joined, I spit my Chust when I was about to burn my lips, I gave back the clock and was late and broken again and went downstairs to continue my work while the memory of his half smile melted into my jacket cooling permeating my bones and my heart, but my face was drawn and a full smile.
Who knows, you may be able to reach the term, and may after all that night when I got home opened a beer accompanied by a Steven Seagal movie to hit me a laugh and comment on the blog, if I had any readers yet, taking into account the ups ball was writing lately.
Nah, surely you will forgive me for once.
back to work and end of the interlude
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