Forbidden spanish

 It’s been several years since I started wandering around these lands. A few months since I looked into the traffic of these lines. Turns out, a quarter of my audience is not from Spain. So they were not my audience. Language barrier, of course. Not like the other can be called an audience, just a few lost people who happen to be fluent enough to guide themselves.

Here, you won’t find perfect grammar, sense, brillancy or something worthy. Only incoherent yells, joke attempts, vague futuristic ideas, unfinished projects. Maybe insults from time to time. Made by a lunatic, a bored lunatic, probably inside a moving train, when he’s exhausted and unfunny. Typing on a dusty screen, wearing uneven glasses, convoluted hair, comfy clothes.

Are not we all like that at some point? I like to think people come here to see their reflection in a dirty well. How low they can descend. Very low, I promise. On a good day, I’ll be watching along from above, maybe pointing downwards while laughing. 

I guess I’ll allow, every other month, english speakers, to enjoy this messy collection of words. You find your own purpose to come here. We sell popcorn I heard, just don’t know where. Think of it as a circus, if you don’t see clowns, just turn off your screen, and the dark reflection will make it work.

Enough beef was randomly thrown today. So maybe, for starters I’ll pick it up and have dinner. Experimental cuisine is curious, I’ll try not to be picky. 

Please, mind the gap, and get out asap.