It is really a relief to be alone at last, since it's the first moment I have for myself in the whole day. In fact, I am not alone and don't feel lonely at all, The Bridge is not something we set out for on owr own and I am honoured to set out on this amazing trip with even more amazing people, who are not in flesh and blood here but in some way I came here to be with them.And where is here? one may wonder. Spain. San Sebastian. Molly Malone -irish pub named after the fishmonger-slash-prostitute-slash-irish heroine for passing on syphilis to a considerably big part of the english troops in the ways we all know...-.
It is a new occasion but i must admit that the place is not new for me, but I chose it because the times when I've been here were always before partying, so this place holds for me this feeling of something fun happening afterwards. And I realised that I had never been to this place in the daylight. Hence why at 19:52 I went through the pub's first door into the small hall, deep breath and through the second door into the empty pub with the usual dim light. For a minute there I lost myself, I lost myself, Karma Police by Radiohead is playing at the moment which perfectly fits the dingy and obscure atmosphere.It takes quite long for me to decide where to sit, the place is so damn empty that for an indecisive mind like mine it is really difficult to choose. My final choice seems to have been done pretty much at random but I soon realise that it is just the place a person like me would chose -I'm too obvious-: in a corner, where not many people can notice me, next to the window so that I can see what goes on outside but in a way that the people in the street cannot see me, with my back to everyone else in the pub, writing in a notebook, apparently absorved in my own world -i guess the only thing missing is a banner explicitly saying "don't talk to me"-. I order a coffee because even if Fernando says that we're allowed to cheat in The Bridge, I'm the new one here so I'm playing "the good girl" (at least for the first days).
|Molly Malone, San Martín St., SS|
It may seem meaningless to the people who are reading this -and it might have been meaningless to me before joining this project- but I guess that Sophie and Fernando understand this sudden flood of excitement that one can get from just a pencil, a notebook and a drink. Right now I feel like a different person inside my own skin, I've got this feeling of agitation -and it's not just from the caffeine- that gives me this impulse of writing non-stop. It is such an odd sensation that I remember this morning as if it were a different day when I was scared as well as excited about this moment, thinking that I wasn't going to be able to come up with something to write about.
Still, while writing this -unfortunately or maybe fortunately I cannot write as fast as I think-, I got thinking about routine and how this is a escape from it, it is a quite regular topic in my thinking, because I find it absolutely necesary and at the same time nonsense. We plan our whole lives to have a future, building day by day what we want our future to be, but we really don't know if there will be a future, a tomorrow, for as far as we know every day could be our last. Anyhow, we can't live every day as if it were the last because we would have to start over every day from nothing. I personally have this odd love and admiration for routine but specially for breaking it: if there were no routine, we wouldn't be able to break it to make fun or relaxing thins, just as going to a pub, grabbing a coffee and writing just whatever that comes to your mind instead of doing the things you would normally be doing on a Monday Evening.
20:55 I should get going... class tomorrow...
|A sip of coffee and good company are worth a thousand words|