Sunday and yesterday, before today

Of the things I did and read since Sunday, before i got the laptop today and started writing again.

Monday yesterday. It rained most of the day. Early in the morning I went out and bought myself
breakfast. HotSiLog – Hotdogs, rice and egg – the warm food was most welcome. I went around the street and found myself a small plastic mirror and a disposable razor, i haven’t had a shave since day before the diagnosis.

Last Sunday, as I was in the middle of moving into my small enclave, Joe called to ask about,
what else, dvds. He was getting a buy-one-take-one promo and he was choosing to get either Gone Baby Gone or Master and Commander as the freebie. He reminded me I gave him a copy of Gone Baby before, so he opted for Master & Commander.

I didn’t do much Sunday night since I didn’t have the laptop yet. I finished The Road before I slept, tried hard to keep a tear from falling. I can’t wait for the film adaptation coming out later this year, Viggo “Aragorn” Mortensen plays The Man (Cormack McCarthy didn’t give them names in The Road).

Yesterday I tried reading Hard-boiled Wonderland and the End of the World, but such was the contrast between McCarthy’s languid, genteel prose and Murakami’s hip humor I had to stop. I’ve tried several times to finish that book, but it never grips me to keep turning the pages.

And then I started – or managed to finish what I started to read long ago and skipped, the very crass, perverted, egocentric semi-autobiographical accounts of 1994 Cuba in Dirty Havana Nights by poet Pedro Juan Gutierrez. I wanted to burn the book, but Gutierrez is good in chapters that don’t feature his alter-ego Pedro Juan, which is like, 15% of the 392-page book.

I still have Stranger in a Strange Land to finish – I think I left it off moths ago somewhere in the middle. I bought Heinlein’s paperback at a street fest a year ago I think. Or Monster bought it for me. I was a little surprised Monster said she has the book, I didn’t figure her a sci-fi person (that was long before Star Trek was shown last May. Did we geek out on that or what.)

Until then, a short script is brewing in my mind. Good thing this laptop is here. Maybe I’ll have one written at the end of this isolation.

A few more words from The Road:

“They crawled slowly through the leaves toward what looked like lower ground. He lay listening,
holding the boy. He could hear them in the road talking. Voice of a woman. Then he heard them in the dry leaves. He took the boy’s hand and pushed the revolver into it. Take it, he whispered.
Take it. The boy was terrified. He put his arm around him and held him. His body so thin. Don’t
be afraid, he said. If they find you you are going to have to do it. Do you understand? Shh. No
crying. Do you hear me? You know how to do it. You put it in your mouth and point it up. Do it
quick and hard. Do you understand? Stop crying. Do you understand?

I think so.

No. Do you understand?


Say yes I do Papa.

Yes I do Papa.

He looked down at him. All he saw was terror. He took the gun from him. No you don’t, he said.”

At the end of this novel, your heart shall have been torn to shreds, I promise.


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