In our time, approaching thirty means living in the shadow of a Nothingness that threatens to consume everything. Now we can no longer expect too much from the world; Now everything is different and you have to enjoy walking past a photo booth and hearing laughter inside more than ever
After much thought and, in fact, losing sight of the process, I decided to buy a typewriter. Every time I notice that it is more difficult to maintain my attention if I keep receiving emailsnotifications and warnings every five minutes, and much – much – less if I waste time constantly Googling nonsense. I would write by hand, but since the industrial revolution will eventually consume the world, what less than to take advantage of some of its advantages. It will not be a romantic act, but an act of pragmatism, but also because I believe that the future should not have the power to bury the past in ignominy; And if there are still people painting me with oils, don’t let them look at me funny. I called my advisor to ask if I could pay him with the digital kit and he hung up on me.
The other night I was at a Bryan Adams concert and on the track, from the stands, you could see the glow of bald heads reflected by the spotlights – a white sedan floated suspended by cables, it turns out that they were cables – and next to me were some older ladies who could have been my great-aunts from Glasgow. They smiled as if they had just arrived in paradise. I don’t know if it would be the spirit of the times this has been generated for a while; I don’t know if it was the company; The crowd looked more like a family dinner than the crowd I’m used to seeing at a concert; the beer and the guitar playing, the riffs and these people who take off their shirts as quickly as possible, which also have their transporting effect in an era which already existed, but which still exists. I don’t know what it would be, but for three hours, at the Palacio de los Deportes in Murcia, the twin towers were never demolished and the bankruptcy of Lehmann Brothers on September 15, 2008, never happened. The world stopped on December 31, 1999 and at the end of the concert we discovered that this was not the case. This time, as Cream said, no longer escapes, it is endured. That the future was serious.
There’s not much left of what we used to be and that’s why we have to look back and remember that there are still guys in jeans and baseball caps playing the soundtrack to the end of the ‘history. A year ago, I said that when the end times come, I’d like to be there to see it, but since I tend to romanticize even the echoes of the last star, I overestimated our ability to go to hell without embarrassing others. What to leave, what to deactivate, how sparingly; how little we learned from José Luis Cuerda. The fundamental difference between surrealism and science fiction is epic, and this apocalypse is, in many ways – slow, shameful and regrettable – less epic. What I imagined Jos Whedon did is done by Tarantino.
To approach thirty is to expect an abyss and find a plain; it’s learning that sometimes being intimate is intimidating and that most of the time we are accessories in the routine of dozens of strangers. In this day and age, approaching thirty is like living in the story of Michael Ende; It is living in the shadow of a Nothingness that threatens to consume everything. Now everything is something else and we can no longer expect too much from the world; Now everything is different and you have to enjoy walking past a photo booth and hearing laughter inside more than ever. I feel nostalgic for the 90s and 2000s, video stores and tacky clothes just for fun and so many things that don’t exist anymore that I’m surprised at how old I am; I don’t know if it’s my impression, but the last ten years have lasted half a century. It’s possible that what happens to many is exactly what happens to me: I had an interesting decade in my twenties, I’m a playwright, or both. There is a moment in life when you reach an age that is not yours, which creates a gap between two times, one internal and the other real, and neither your age nor the one you appear to be. have more importance. From that moment on, it only serves to know if a death is premature or a dangerous pregnancy, if “you are ready for this” or if “you will have time for this or that thing”. During this time, you grow; You never stop doing it, even if you don’t quite understand what it means. We are like a city built by someone with someone else’s maps. The world moves so fast that the only static thing seems to be the void it carries with it, the rest wanders like an echo. Time does the same: it sweeps away and erases; devours
