Wednesday, April 12, 2017

36 - 42 Range

Latitude of activity.

Dear Diary:

I think I have said enough yesterday. Probably too much. I was hoping the Spanish spirit would affect me so I could tone down the harshness in my speech, I mean they are such a jolly and optimistic people, but I guess this is who I am. I won't take back a single word, but I don't feel like discussing the subject again anytime soon. (A price has been paid.)

Ultimately, the truth is that if the people don't embrace you or don't appreciate the effort you've made for their wellbeing, you leave. I left, and I won't go back. I still love these people, they are still dear to my heart, but I have to remind myself not to do anything rash or risk myself on their behalf. That's stupid.

Now I pray, but I don't wish. There is a significant difference if you think about it. Wishing is pretty superficial and weak. But nevertheless, best wishes. I've actually given all that I could give and that's not enough and it was given at a wrong time, apparently, but there are so many bigger fish to fry. So let's move on.

I also have to keep in mind to keep it light. I'm supposed to talk to you about flowers and whipped cream. I don't know why I said whipped cream, something to eat. Getting into great shape. Top shape, if you will. That's called for.

And I don't use this expression often, actually at all, because it's weak and sexist, but in this very context and for the one and only time, and just because I want you to know: I'm never getting a cat again, it's a pussy move.

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