Last night: dreaming of running out of pesos.
Dreaming of bacterial food, of getting lost in Mexico, misunderstanding the taxi situation.
I did not sleep well.
Three days until Mexico.
This won’t be my longest international trip. I spent 22 days in Europe when I was 16 and two weeks in Belgium when I was 18. What can do for two weeks in Belgium? I’ll tell you: Antwerp, Oostende, Brussels. My mother’s small hometown and all the family you can imagine.
Watching American movies on TV with my cousins. Laughing at a joke, then moments later they laugh. The subtitles were slow.
Learning one word in Flemish: wacht. It means “wait.”
A project idea.
A tentative first poem that is surely garbage but a step in a direction, toward something.
Slowly coming back to writing. Like doing too much cardio. Feeling tired, but not tired at the same time.
And then, the name of the film my main character is making in my novel: Phantasmaorgasm.
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