Tuesday, September 27, 2011

The mundane

Fervent admiration for those girls who wear the right clothes is an imaginary phenomenon. Unless you are in the crowd of girls who are looking out for recent fashion, forget it. Most people out there are too amateur in every aspect of their personalities to bother much about clothing, and though I must admit that a well-dressed person is an eyecatcher, unless more follows they stay just that.
I had a lot of olive oil on my pizza this night. It was a rather salty pizza too, so I ate the centre parts first and the crust later. One of those blokes in the bar who has nothing to do but watch you and make comments suddenly said, "Nice to meet you."
I had had enough to drink so I spent my night reading good books. There was a Bible, a novel by some promising author situated on the correct coordinates on the globe, an old law book whose formulations were not plausible to the layman and a Math book. Suddenly I decided I had to get an epilator, a haircut and a facial done. After all, to myself I am more than a mere eyecatcher and I must spend on my appearance. I must have smooth shiny skin and glossy hair, and I must show myself to all those out there.
The girl who had helped me out in the afternoon was glum all evening. She must have been sleepy or something. Still she maintained decorum, was polite and went to bed at a time not too late and not too early, with the others. I was left facing myself in the mirror. I had a few pimples on my face. There was not much fat anywhere on my body. The region where I grew up is a provincial, traditional rural hub. A little bit of trade here and there but not much to speak of. No metropolitan flair, except at the university. The indifference of the big cities not to be seen, nor the variety. This is the kind of place where you buy a coat two sizes too large for growing kids so that you will not have to replace it too soon. Buy a shirt and it will have to stay in good condition for a long time. Take care of the pence. All very very comforting values, and a work culture which leads to precision and care. Follow instructions well and be kind and Christian at the same time.

I realize I am at home here. There is a mentality of farmers and poultry holders but it is an earthy, brown and fresh mindset. It is practical and leaves no doubts as to how to proceed. The boys are good and honest; the girls, straightforward, unpretentious, and healthy. What more do you want. You are tied to the salt of the earth.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Guess who.

The fodder of my imagination, the protagonist of the useless little reveries by day when things get boring. He has no special qualities in particular but the honour of starring in these plots without having to put in any effort. The protagonist occupies a unique post. The post is always occupied, no matter where. The occupant is not constant, of course, but there has to be such an object, at least one of them. Some little thing to exercise one's imagination upon, the poor subject of many ridiculous pictured conversations, he gets fitted into all sorts of dramas whose existence he has no means of knowing of. Blessed soul, let him live his life and smoke his cigarettes in peace and may this knowledge never reach him.

Friday, September 2, 2011

STATUS UPDATE

Moderate interest in life.
Tiredness level through the week was high.
Number of new people spoken to was very high, approximately 20.
Number of times I got into a train was 13.
Number of heavy brick like books transported home was 9.
Number of steps climbed per day was approximately 220.
Frequency of boredom was daily.
Number of pieces of cake eaten was 8.
Interest in running away is nonzero.
Nonzero wish to meet somebody who is far off.
Constant realization of mundanity of life.
Number of people I reasonably like at new workplace is 2.
Amount of sense in life is zero but appears more.
Amount of money in bank account is slightly nonzero.
Amount of weight gained is higher than I expected.
Zero sport.
Full dumbness
Fully mechanical.