ardent bullshit comes down every faultline gushing heavily into jest kindly luscious melons nodding openly post quakes resting still to undermind various wonderous xylophones yawning zealously

Wednesday, February 17, 2016

Hot cereal

These days cream of wheat or oatmeal and reading is the name of the game. It's a nice game. A pretty quiet game. Other than when I leave my home, which is anything but quiet.

Yesterday I had coffee with my old friend, Geoffrey. He said he was happy to see that I hadn't drastically changed since moving to Manhattan. That happens to some people, I suppose. I do walk more quickly. And live quite efficiently in many regards. This regard does not carry over to when taken into context food and Barney's trips. My demons still live in pleasure centers.

So I was in Mexico City (DF) for a few days, walking around, looking at art. It is quite challenging getting around without internet in a country that (hesitantly at best) speaks to you in English. I feel so spoiled now by the google maps and instagrams, telling me where to go and what to eat. Also, photos of cats that are not mine.

DF was great. And somewhat reminiscent of Glasgow in that it felt like such a working city. Very sunny and airy. Jogs through the bosque conjured up some pretty strong feelings of the fact that it is a city built on top of a city full of a warring culture. Interesting. So I kept on jogging, and stopping to look at stuff and then jogging along.

Next month I am back in Puerto Rico because winter is terrible and I can count on seeing the sunshine minimally for the next couple months. How is this healthy for us? Shouldn't we just be sleeping the whole time? How did I ever live through all of winter without going somewhere sunny in the middle?

Which brings me back to the original thought of hot cereal and reading. And the nap I am about to take.

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