Rants on lit. from Guatemala

Forget about it and fly the damn plane

Music: “cada vez que me voy” from Jumbo, a band that Mariana showed me. And that I like, just because she likes it… this makes me think about what chrystian says. He says, the other night he couth me listening to what he calls unwanted music, that Mariana would never know it if I´m not really listening to it… but as I have made clear before I´m really anal about this thing. And more of if the other persona can´t see or be around what I´m doing.

Read: After finishing with the Satiricon and Lords of the night I´m reading Crime and Punishment by none other than Dostoievski. I know, I know… I have a lot to catch up on. But let’s take one thing at a time, k? Ah, and I also read a part of Nancy’s thesis on Ana María Rodas, the part that talks about Gorilla war fare on Guatemala (I really have to talk about this)
K. we have a lot to talk about… let’s see how long do I have to work on this today. First off… I’m, no wonder, dead broke. And now I really am dead broke… I have to beg for cigarettes from my brother seen I have no more money to pay for them… Ha! I knew this was coming… but didn’t actually do anything about it. Why is this? And this, in fact, is a very important question. This is very personal… and like most of my thinking all tangled up and blurry and in need of further revision. But the way I see it is like this: For a long time a hid behind the idea that I was helping my father. I never asked for my salary and I am painfully reminded of something that Kirken (one of Nancy’s Canadian friends) said once: you should think of getting better representation.

So, why is this hiding? I in deed wanted to help my father and more than once was held back by this idea… my father couldn’t pick up the heavy stuff I picked up… so this part is not hiding in a bad way. Hiding in a way that is explainable… I would say. But the fact remains… I was hiding. I hate working for someone else, I hate having to mingle with strangers and hate hair cuts.

There for I’m broke. This wouldn’t be a problem for me. I work for food and internet access. Nothing else, well maybe besides books that is, would worry me. But now, we are all broke… my brother is still hanging on… but for how long having to take care of his blood sucking brother that is… god I hate this… I actually had to ask for work today, from a near stranger, and SL offered me hope. But on this I’m inclined to think of it as Roula thinks of hope…

And then he was broke and looking for work. So I now have to cut off my hair, have no self respect and do things I don’t like (hey so what else is new). But I can still read… hey, that is good! Ha! But knowing me there is something wrong with this too… I still haven’t fix the light on my room… so no light for me, no reading for me… hahahahaha I just like being dramatic. Mariana is always nagging me about it, and she is right, I think she cares enough to tell me.

On top of this there is this thing that I think is growing inside me, nope, not some kind of virus or venereal illness… is this thing that my brother described so wisely (amazingly enough): the fact of projection. He says that when you are talking, but not really talking person-to-person with someone you may accidentally project your thought of a perfect person onto them. This I think is fixable… and am not really sure if it’s affecting me. Have to think more on this.

k. another entry with out finish… but it´s been a day since I wrote the last part… I can´t take it any more… I´m falling behind… k. I´ll try to fix this…