Afán
I listened to Sir Laurence Olivier read this article on the Eleven Reader iPhone app and I’m speechless at the range of emotions it stirred in me. This article absolutely must be heard in Sir Laurence Olivier’s voice on Eleven Reader.
Honesty — had I begun to say, before marveling at Mr. Olivier’s reading — should not be negotiable. Rather, we should do everything possible to make what we think and feel and let others know about us less hurtful and upsetting, and reality should provide legitimate evidence on which to base that sincere manifestation of good inner contents.
The dorsal heloma on the fifth toe transformed into a hard, thick, powerful, vulgar corn that hasn’t hurt again. Such a natural, optimal adaptation that should have occurred throughout my entire being has, for now, only happened in my foot.
There are some long faces now, faces that used to be shorter when I was not human but a teen wolf full of beans from some manic episode, naive expectations, the appearance of money in my wallet, a permanent contract that would allow me to think about getting my teeth fixed, and the recognition for my tasks well done — even if they were subhuman tasks — that had not occurred in the immediately preceding times — while I was engaged in more suited activities.
I was well-fed, and I liked that the entrance hall was the damned Times Square at rush hour. I felt there was more to the world than the first floor, even though even then I spent hours repeating ‘first floor’ to everyone, sometimes more than once to the same person in the same week.
The conviction that no one could want anything from me that weren’t ridiculous and trivial hadn’t yet taken root in my being. The idea of visiting new places was still more appealing than the idea of travelling by plane — like now, without great expectations beyond the trip as a process: the luggage, the airport and PA system, the aeroplane.
(The idea of travelling by plane)
It has been weeks since the staff responsible for cleaning the street with pressurised water have come by the street where I work, more or less since the dogs started urinating right on the pavement at the entrance, without their owners stopping them or pouring water on the puddle of pee.
God’s sense of humour responded to my verses* about hegemonic longevity with the pregnancy of a neighbour — to the ominous demography and source of afanes** on the stairs will be added the afanes on the stairs with the pushchair of that baby, who’ll bear the new joyful demographic and landscape balance.
(*) Domino Danzig
(**) Grok on the Spanish word afán
In parallel humour, to the piss on the wheels of the bins had already been added — as we said — the piss on the pavement right in front of the entrance; and finally, the request of the mother of the demographic balancer was added to everything, who told me that she knew that street cleaning was not among my duties, but that the pregnancy had increased her sense of smell, reduced her stomach, and she could not stand the permanent stench at the entrance of the building.
The thesis* on evil as the only element exempt from the threat of ridicule was not, therefore, the only thing that nobody would do if I didn’t: in the same way, nobody would clean up the piss in the street if I didn’t clean it up — although, unlike the thesis, the cleaning could be done by anyone.
(*) Towards the thesis that the only thing safe from ridicule is evil
I’m glad to inform that, on the other hand, as I was finishing this article, an employee of the block manager came by to bring me, among other things, my summer bonus cheque. Long time ago I had noticed that she had a nice voice and hair, but it wasn’t until now that I discovered she also had an attractive bum. Since she’s a little plump, I thought that this detail might have prevented many men from appreciating the charm of her voice, hair and bum, and I wondered if these compliments would also go unsaid if I didn’t say them. So, here they are, though I doubt I’ll ever say them to her.
I do what I can.
The mother hasn’t said anything to me again, the dogs might change their ways, the water pressure workers might show up one day and do their job, the newborn might not bring with him (?) the restoration of nightmares that his older brother and two other simultaneous neighbour babies had represented, which at the time meant helping to carry three pushchairs up and down the stairs between three and six times a day each, coinciding, among other things, with my three months of permanent extreme stomach pain caused by the massive intake of ibuprofen during massive dental surgeries.
It is likely, yes, that the new problems will be solved and that the old ones will not recur. We must think about the lilies and the striving for each present day — with its own afán.
(The world made it clear to me)
From a physiological standpoint, the fight against anxiety is being waged without meds, certainly without psychologists, and too with iced coffee. I had learnt that these shock therapies work for the nerves: although the fact is often overlooked and not apparent to our awareness, anxiety is triggered by a physiological fear of dying; our body doesn’t want to die, something convinces it that it will die soon, we do everything possible to further exacerbate the nervousness (for example, by drinking coffee), and when the body realises that (for now) it isn’t going to pass away, the anxiety subsides.
Severe anxiety is the worst thing that can happen to you (experts say the pain is greater than that of the most difficult childbirth; I would add that it’s also worse than the most severe depression), but it has the advantage that it only lasts for a prolonged period the first time. The following times, you already know what’s happening to you, you know you’re not going to die, and the anxiety — at least in its severe and unbearable form — disappears quickly.
Unfortunately, the rational evidence that death would be the best thing, the yearning to die immediately, is not as easy to manage as the physical fear of imminent death. And the interplay between these two conflicting forces within the body is horrible.
And it’s so strange to think about a future that you don’t want to live through.
We already know that the most important thing, and almost the only thing that really matters, is not to neglect oral hygiene and health *— but there are other things that we also want to pay attention to, because they are afanes that do require pre-occupation as today’s afán.
(*) Ethica — diei et noctis — ordine geometrico demonstrata
In July, we have a dentist appointment and our annual Twitter Premium and DAZN subscriptions expire. In August, we are on holiday, we’ll have a hair appointment, an eye exam, and we’re going to read the book written by the boss of the woman of the wine shop. In May 2027, we have to renew our National Identity Card, which we can do up to six months in advance if we want. In August 2027, we’ll pay the final instalment of the bank loan for the dental treatment, four years later.
The X Premium subscription will definitely be renewed. The DAZN subscription, however, is very unlikely to be renewed, because they have not offered any promotions, the price will double, I haven’t been enjoying football lately, and I don’t see anything that suggests an improvement for next season.
To renew my ID card, in principle a certificate of registration is not required, but we’ll see if they decide to investigate the registered address and tell me that I no longer live there and that I do have to present the certificate of registration of my current address, in which case I’d have to present a false address, endorsed by some acquaintance, since it is not possible to register at my real current address.
Regarding the photograph, I’m counting on the police station having the means to take it. I don’t want to deal with the false address issue, and I don’t want to go somewhere else specifically to have my picture taken, so I’ll request the appointment 180 days in advance, as they allow. That way, if everything goes well, I will leave the station with my renewed ID, and if otherwise they don’t accept the address on my current ID and/or don’t have the means to take my photo, I will have 180 days to sort out the false address, get the photo taken, and return to the station to renew my ID.
Finally, completing the payments on the loan for the dental treatment will allow me to afford a second and final dental treatment that I know, based on the results of the first treatment over these four years, will be worth it, whatever the cost, as long as I can afford it.