This life is weird, once you’ve passed through a door, you don’t know what’s next, but that’s what makes life this fun!
Day one: The start
We don’t get much rain in Southern Spain during the Summer, however, Wednesday was a rainy day. It is special because a long-expected rain produces a beautiful smell coming up from the soil, as dry earth expands by the mere touch of water.
It was still hot, and despite the rain drops, everything looked just like another warm July day. Decent and indecent men gather at the café for a breakfast, some start their duties, others are going to bed after a night out, and I go there every single morning for a toast and a coffee right before work.
Day two: The conversation
“Those guys are doing the same things Hitler did to them!” John told me while we were having breakfast outside. “Yeah, it’s nasty what’s going on in Gaza right now” I replied, and we both had the feeling that the world is becoming a nasty place to be, despite we were in a quiet corner, in a quiet town, in a quiet zone, and so he continued “…and what about the plane in Ukraine?”
By that time I could just feel the shame of being human, as only humans are able to such deeds, and I understood how lucky we were to have the chance to enjoy a coffee together and talk freely.
Day three: Childhood dreams
I dreamt of motorcycles at a very young age. As far as I know, my first ride was in mom’s womb when she was a pillion at my father’s Bultaco. I strongly believe I got addicted to motorcycles since that very moment.
My parents are and have always been very sensible people, and of course they ignored me when I asked for a motorbike at the age of two. My dad came up with the idea to get a replica of his motorbike by then, which was not a cool Bultaco, but an ugly Vespa.
So they got me a battery driven Vespa which only had full batteries for the five minutes that they lasted. My father told me to start pushing it myself as he was not happy to get me more batteries, so my hate for scooters started right there.
I did become a biker, and I ride my Triumph Speedmaster these days, which is kind of a rocker motorcycle, nothing related to the Vespas and Lambrettas the mods rode.
Day four: Rotten carrots
Too busy at work, too busy at my personal life, too busy under the sky just to find out I am hungry. So I ran quickly home to grab something to eat, and tears went down my cheeks as I discovered the total isolation of one single ingredient: a bag of carrots.
How have I come to this? It’s been a very good Summer so far referring to work, but that also includes I only have two types of food at home: Frozen stuff I have no time to prepare, and rotten carrots…
It seems as if my life was coming to a point of no return, so I must take inmediate action… something like eating out or not eating at all.
Day five: Say yeah!
And after all it’s Friday again, and I don’t want to get lost in my never-ending routine in which I work-eat-sleep-work-eat… and so on, so I have to think of something different, something as simple as Paul Stanley‘s voice saying just something as cool as YEAH!
Because it’s freedom what I need, it’s being a bit crazy, being a bit… yeah! Oh yeah!