A Hipster In His Room

And things are good. A cabrón keeps prank-calling me. I’m not sure I should answer this cabrón. They keep leaving messages, additionally. I don’t know what the messages say. I don’t know how they got my phone number, señor.

Anyway, life is good. Calling me on a Sunday, though? That’s ridiculous. It’s my day of leisure—I mean, come on.

It’s my day of rest. I listen to a good song at the moment. It’s good stuff.

My day, of rest, in order to do the things I planned on all week, etcétera.

I toiled all week for this, now some cabrón is calling me on a Sunday for no reason whatsoever.

It’s unjust.

Now, for the kicker. I have nothing else to do today.

Oh, and I’m listening to a record, actually. It’s a new fad, these days. These hipster kids actually listen to records, these days, you know?

I keep feeling like my phone is vibrating, again, though it’s not, in reality.

I have a loose cannon of a mouth, these days. It’s okay. Nobody will sue me over it.

Journals are good to post to the public, correct? I don’t know, actually. I wish I would stop being autocrítico.

That’s the truth.

Hey, and I wonder, why didn’t the person calling me leave a message? I guess they could have, in a perfectly normal world. But they did not. And so they lost my trust.

I suppose they could have left a message, but they’re just some spammer trying to make ends meet, right? I don’t know.

But they didn’t have to call me.

Nobody has to do anything.

Autocrítico, if you haven’t learned already, is bad.

Because if I’m autocrítico, I don’t publish anything. And that’s bad.

And anti-publishing is anti-me. And that’s not a good policy.

Because these policy wonks are just trying to make things go their way. But they aren’t accomplishing a thing. That’s the truth.

These policy guys, with their degrees and all, don’t get anything done but make their clocks tick.

And is making your clock tick a moral reason to do what you do?

And after all, I don’t know if the cabrón who keeps calling me is actually prank-calling or not. Maybe he or she is not actually a cabrón. (If you haven’t discerned already, the term is not a nice one).

But people who call me on Sundays don’t need my attention, I’m sure. It is my day of rest, after all.

I don’t actually answer many calls these days. Close to zero calls have I answered the past few days. I just can’t spend the time. You know? Because I have a job and all. Not really, however.

Listening to this brass band is good, though.

I like the music, largely because it’s good music.

If you have any grammatical tips for me, I would like not to hear them.

I keep listening to the same record on repeat. Yeah, that part I said about the hipsters was true. It was actually true.