Just for twenty days they felt like they were on star trek. In a desperate moment before work overload I decided to deinstalarme, z bramalazo, todas my social circles. I know what I am terribly addicted to; After all, I was satisfied with uninstalling the phone. Anxiety told me it would fall scroll I had time left, so the reason for the disappearance was only one: to get him back, it costs everything.
The wine by the bottle was a big surprise: much calmeran escape from my insomnia and an emotional detachment worthy of a Buddhist woman, which, as my psychologist well knows, he was desperate to keep.
It met me so little that I longed to see hubies rescatado with it, write newspaper articles in stupid three-hour diaries, write radio guides, get information about reading manuscripts in French, or encourage reading clubs in public libraries for four people who pay me drinks and coffee, since it offers croissant.
Being able to work without silence or migration by abandoning forced sociability – or voyeurism? – digital could not provide so much peace of mind. If I felt more calm and resentful, it was because I had to block all access to so many things that I don’t care about and even hate to know.
I was playing on the tester and could stop the links until I saw a photo of a tostada with huevo and water that made me think of an Olympic aspirant in the best gymnast category in my neighborhood; ya ne me hacía al harakiri because it must have bombed for the thousands of copies sold by this young author, I suspect it will be published every three years because I inherited the piece.
So much for when I hoped the water would flow, s publishing my expareja sonreni with a naughty heart in my arms, after which I was abandoned because I did not want to be a father and non-negotiable; In the supermarket, I was not surprised by the smile of the friend we had to talk to one day without communicating with him, who now went on a European escape with people we could meet.
None of it penetrated my retina and then it turned into a garrapata because it was suddenly protected by a device I had embedded in the place where it takes to touch the touch screen.
In a world where impacts of all kinds travel upon us, we learn information like a sick person connected to a breathing tube
En Farewell (Anagram), Julian Barnes says goodbye to his readers diagnose blood cancer. For him, the Anglo-Saxon author traces the path of parts of his past that require the mullet to think about these existential questions that only dawn before the dead tuff that springs from the traps in the making of the collad.
A knowledge of certain surgical processes in the terminally ill leads to the following: let us be happy, healthy, and safe, to a surgical procedure which consists of “a precise opening in the skull and causes infinitesimal damage in order to provoke the release of all our prisoners“You know the price for not forgetting any detail of that night with a row of dresses or the first sick teenage boy was to remember every episode where we escaped a bloated baby or dreamed about carrying the baby out in the morning in full postpartum crisis?”
If the identity is inseparable a deep explanation of where we come fromthe required cobra has distinct relevance when directed at the writer. Can’t fiction be born from an anecdote to one that crosses the mind here and there? Can a vision be based only on ideas and abstract concepts that wander through philosophical manuals, or must we build it on the basis of lived experience?
En October Niña (Gatopardo edition), Linda Boström Knausgård talks about the electric shocks she received between 2013 and 2017 due to her diagnosed bipolar disorder; “Sometimes I was so overwhelmed by this kind of electricity that I was sure I wasn’t capable of writing this,” he admits.
Loss of intellectual abilities as a secondary effect of electroconvulsive therapy, still legal today in countries like Suecia, arrojó to a terrible disorder: how it could be cured if it included healing a head that prevented her from telling storieswhen was literature about vocation and worth? If you were unable to imagine a world completely different from the dead, could you really hope for a happy and promising future?
From the point of view of the psychiatric center where I was interned, I suppose: healing a mentally ill person requires removing the whole figure, turning it into someone who lacks his own testimony, but only his own appearance and body. Fortunately, this confusion is not suitable for the novelist and the poet: in the work, the intention is to restore both an interpretive element that can serve not only as an inspiration, until we give up the critical feeling. There is no power to decide.
The problem with the quiz is not to think we are what we are until then enjoy the memory as well received. Memory sometimes saves, yes, above all, when we have to think back as part of a collective responsible for historical progress. However, the citizen also persecutes, condemns and attacks spaces that were once intended for a better cause. Or at least most of all.
In a world where impacts of all kinds—74 gigabytes equivalent to 70,000 thoughts—are the first diary of our brain processes, Barnes says, We read information like a sick person in a coma attached to the breathing tube. This is when the man who does not know is built as an oasis of calm; as a state of permanent ignorance not only desirable, but also utopian and enviable. And therefore, quizzes, we are ready to record our abilities for the first time.
Andrea Genovartova (Barcelona, 1993) es escritora. On the first amendment, Preferred consumptionit won the 2023 Novel Anagram Book Awards and was published in Spanish the same year.
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