This is me, writing for writing’s sake. I’ve been looking into various options to publish “Héroes Ficticios” and it seems I’ve narrowed it down enough to do something about it. Anyway, I feel like spitballing; one of the downsides of blogging, I suppose, is that there’s not way to have an immediate exchange of ideas with whoever’s reading you… you always have to wait when and if a comment pops up and then just reply to that and so on and so forth. I have an inherent need to communicate just as much as I get off on making people around me laugh, and even though I might or might not at some degree accomplish both hopefully, I wish it were more immediate. On Monday I was trying to put some pants on while the dog kept trying to lick my leg when I hit my pinky toe with the metal leg of a chair in the kitchen… it was not pleasant. I thought the injury would be easily discarded by my always-awesome healing factor but it must’ve gone on vacation because now the finger’s the size of my thumb and is sporting a sexy, sexy purple color that’s not letting me walk well, like I got shot in the leg or something. Irony strikes. Things get even more interesting when I’m forced to walk a few blocks to my office building because my father, who’s carpooling with me, has no sense of time or consideration for others whatsoever so he dropped me off at a street corner like I was a whore and left me to limp my way past the extensive sidewalk to the elevator where I would very easily pass out on my pain. As of this moment the act of moving my foot an inch causes me pain.

I just realized the “Mada Faká” page is fucked. That sucks. Gonna have to do something about that when I’m done here… A friend of mine, a very charming and cute girl whom I met over New Years in Bocas del Toro is leaving the country indefinitely and she wants to spend her last night here with friends, so I’ll drop by for a bit. Word on the street says she wants to pull an all-nighter and today I’m feeling too lame to do it… hopefully she’ll keep in touch. My window view overlooks Avenida Balboa and, by association, the Panama Bay. Now, this bay is polluted out the ass (quite literally) since all wastes (or at least most of them) are poured out into the ocean thru here, causing it to sport a smell that only a mother could withstand… if the Panama Bay where the lady’s bastard, dirty child. The Mayor’s office keeps saying there’s a proyect going on that will clean up the bay and sanitize it to such a degree that I will probably one day walk out to the street and dip in my future-beloeved city-slicker beach. No need to pour ridiculously priced gas, no beach houses where the majority of those who go so that they don’t ever leave the house and specially, no worries. The sun in the morning is prime for me to be outside, frying my skin. The talking heads say it’ll be 15 years for all the waste to be sanitized and all of the sewage routes to be shut off/redirected and that looks so far away… maybe I’ll bring my kids to enjoy it all when I return. I really want to do a comic… wonder is Lucho’s still busy with school and work; I’d love to get him involved in some stuff. Yeah. Well, I think I’m gonna wrap this up; if I feel like talking about something more substantial then the feeds will let you know. Now, to fix my damn page.

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