I let the wind pass me when I entered the coffee shop on the corner of Ovalo Guiterrez, minutes after I took off the bus with the red and white stripes written next to its name, Orion. My plan has changed and I felt little bit wicked about it but I feel wicked all the time, so I constantly feel terribly just fine thereafter. It was raining last night and when I walked out my building around six a.m, I thanked God for letting me bring my grey jumper. My grey jumper with navy blue embroidery accents placed right in the middle, formed the six letters city name: OREGON. I have never been to that city and haven´t think nor had imagine myself being there. And now I cant remember what was the reason for me to buy this jumper back when I was in Indonesia, couple years ago. But I dont consider ´reasoning´ as a vital aspect of buying things. Plus, I rarely buy things lately other than the things I eat. And the only reason why I eat is because I have to keep living. Let´s stop on that.
Some people say a cup of freshly ground coffee is what it takes to get people moving in, starting a day, a brand new day after last night´s fight with their lover, or mistress, or their one-night-stand´s partner, or their ex partner, or just themselves. I fought a lot with myself, like last night when I was irritated by my own mind. She said I should have become that twenty three years old female who should spend money on having fun, go to the party or just have a drink or two while watching live band play jazzy tunes at La Noche, the club where once I went with some Peruvians I had just met during my first month in Peru. Now I dont even remember any bit of that place. I just can´t picture myself in there, I just simply cant and why should I try to? All I wanna do right now is to take a deep breath, start sippin´ my black coffee and keep writing.
Today is today and tomorrow is a brand new day. What happened to yesterday? Why I feel so dark and dull when I think about the time that has passed? I become super romantic whenever I start to look back on memories, probably because they all died in my mind but live in my heart. And I´m a romantic at heart. How useless I would be if I keep writing when the sky ask me to go out and see how different Lima within a rainy day like this. Raining is not for Lima and I could start telling you how many times I have been here and watching over the poured water mingling mystifyingly. It wouldn´t take more than 5 fingers. In fact, they never came more than once in a month. I think it´s hard to be a romantic person in this city. Probably that´s why: The rain is just never want to come. Which is annoying, for me.