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RegisterPosted by: kkshaha cnd
« on: September 16, 2023, 03:27:52 am »Meanwhile, it is now pouring rain in Madrid, flooding the streets and metro stations. You write to me, soaked, waiting for so much water to stop falling so you can go home. Inverted symmetries, dislocated and embedded times. Distances. 4. I am traveling on a Friday afternoon on a packed bus on the way to Claromecó, a small town on the Argentine coast, to visit my old man. The people around, after the first leg of the trip, relax, take off their masks, drink mate, talk and laugh.
A baby has been coughing and crying, non-stop, for a long time. I ask Phone Number List neighbor, a handsome guy who reads Osho, to please put on his mask, because I am going to visit an 80-year-old person and I want to take care of myself. I'm taking care of myself? Taking care of myself, taking care of him, is it going to see him or is it stopping traveling or perhaps is it avoiding any contact with anyone else, or is it looking for safer means of transportation? The edge of guilt reappears, solid as a scab. And without much conviction I repeat to myself the mantra: "no one infects anyone, we simply infect each other." On the way, I text with Lea, who has just been admitted to the hospital again due to respiratory consequences of covid: very low oxygen saturation and high heart rate.
While she, on the other side of the world, waits in an emergency room to be evaluated by doctors, the world around me wants to believe that the pandemic is ending. The world needs to believe it, resume its contact routines, go out for a drink, meet up, go to the beach. Is that desire indifference or denial? That wanting to kiss you, bury his nose in your neck, nibble your feet and cheeks, smell your hair? 5. My father did not get sick from covid but he did get sick from depression, insomnia, loneliness.
A baby has been coughing and crying, non-stop, for a long time. I ask Phone Number List neighbor, a handsome guy who reads Osho, to please put on his mask, because I am going to visit an 80-year-old person and I want to take care of myself. I'm taking care of myself? Taking care of myself, taking care of him, is it going to see him or is it stopping traveling or perhaps is it avoiding any contact with anyone else, or is it looking for safer means of transportation? The edge of guilt reappears, solid as a scab. And without much conviction I repeat to myself the mantra: "no one infects anyone, we simply infect each other." On the way, I text with Lea, who has just been admitted to the hospital again due to respiratory consequences of covid: very low oxygen saturation and high heart rate.
While she, on the other side of the world, waits in an emergency room to be evaluated by doctors, the world around me wants to believe that the pandemic is ending. The world needs to believe it, resume its contact routines, go out for a drink, meet up, go to the beach. Is that desire indifference or denial? That wanting to kiss you, bury his nose in your neck, nibble your feet and cheeks, smell your hair? 5. My father did not get sick from covid but he did get sick from depression, insomnia, loneliness.