Yes, it is undeniable. This blog does not go through his prime. Creative stagnation, some will say. Disgusting, you say others. So I have come to believe. But do not weep for me. Lately I have been to run. Yeah yeah, run. Running every day, while listening to Bebe or Macaque (Macaco ! ) in the hulls. And crave that moment when I isolate myself from the world and stop thinking and just feel the sweat and physical exhaustion. Who I was going to say, two years ago when I was so engrossed in this blog, looking for reading that comment, to criticize plays and music to recommend.
Stuck creative? In an interview I read long ago, Günter Grass said that if being happy, not sit to write every day, eating pipes would be made so richly in the gate of his house. That was just the frustration, unhappiness (or lack of complete happiness) which made him a writer.
"Ennui? I also remember Terenci Moix .. Here in this blog, I wrote about "that time and that Death that wiped out everything, and that hope that gives only love" in a sort of post-oracle of my own life.
So do not worry too much, dear readers. There is no such as stagnation or boredom. It's just that life sometimes offers us better things to read go to the movies or get in front of a computer, and I'll give you permission to enjoy them. A big hug to everyone, and especially you, Pepa, because this blog started in your name, and you were the first in which he thought every time I wrote here.
PS: And yet, I resigned myself to tell you I'm with Delibes, and I could never imagine that Castilla would leave a magician of words and a picture of reality at the height of García Márquez (who is) .
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