Shit I want to do:

– Start a journal! Maybe words will take up less space in my head if I transfer them to paper.

– Cook this

– Stop acting like Miss Fucking Crankypants when things don’t go the way I want them to.

– Maybe exercise? I would like to not look like a 90-year-old in two years or so.

– I need to start doing things. Doing in the sense of hacerlas, acción, ejecutar. I just feel, lately and forever, that I am probably the only person on this planet who is so absorbed in her own inside world. Or absorbed with thoughts and details so insignificant they might not even constitute a phenomenon on their own. I can decimate a glance, a piece of fabric, a word, a few seconds of silence into something so amorphously different from its original form that it doesn’t represent anything similar to what it was to begin with.

– Get high? I think I might enjoy it.

– Remember that everything is reversible. Repeat it to myself several times during the day.


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