Woke up with a terrible diarrhea. Ate too many chocolate cookies last evening. I couldn’t help it. It was raining and raining and there was nothing else to do. Also, I forgot to smoke yesterday. How could I forget that. I guess I just didn’t feel the need to smoke otherwise I would have smoked at least two. Couldn’t eat anything all day today. Around three noon, drank three glasses of lemon juice and that’s all and listened again to my Spotify playlist. My playlist has got everything – blues, jazz, some country, some rock, classical. Mostly blues and jazz. My playlist is my crutch. Without it, I cannot walk too far. Without my music, I tend to lose my head sooner than usual. Without my music, I lose connection to life. Music keeps my spirit alive and awake, even when I have diarrhea!
Evening now. Back at home, listening to instrumental jazz. It hasn’t rained today, and I think it won’t rain tonight. Outside, quite windy. I can see the shadow of trees on my window swaying violently. Knock at the door. Must be the old woman bringing me dinner. Yeah, it’s her dressed in an orange blue printed gown, her white hair tied in a ponytail hidden under a veil. I could never understand culture, and how it has kept men and women, especially women, bound since centuries in the most absurd of ways. I am glad that I am uncultured. People say that culture preserves. Well, fuck that. We need more destruction than preservation.
Now that I have opened the door, a little walk outside in the front lawn. The sign of no rain gives me joy. The winds are chilly but bearable in this t-shirt and these shorts. I walk back inside to my bedroom, pick up the keys to the main gate, walk outside to the main gate, lock it. A dog wailing, running in circles. I watch it for a moment, locate the moon in the sky, and then walk back inside. I open the container in which the old woman brought me food, look at the contents. Not bad. Not too warm, but it will do.
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