I am sat in the ROI DES BELGES pub or café or something. I am listing to jazz music. I have to say that it is not a bad town. Maybe I will live here some day but I cannot live here yet. For me it’s the same being here or there, I just watch people living around me. I just wait for my time. It’s 2010. I am 37. This is a good year for dying. From 73 to 37, pretty numbers.
Drinking at morning is good for somebody who pretends to be a writer. Another beer, please. I am waiting for the time to go by. It’s crazy. Who was I before writing this blog? Maybe I have always written this blog.
Sometimes I think that nobody read it. But it isn’t true because tomorrow the person who says to be me read this blog and that person isn’t me so... If you do not understand me, I strongly recommend you to read the short story “The other” written by Jorge Luis Borges (a really good Argentinean writer).
In the opposite table there is a couple. At the beginning she was happy and her face was a big smile. He is much younger than her. The woman’s face is now serious. He only listens to her. I guess I am seeing their splitting up. They enter this local together but they are now two people.
There is more sun here than in my town,… in June 17…