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About Bilbao

Oh, and the smells—god forbid! Stale perfume, cigarette smoke—my nose would revolt! I’d be rantin’, “Can’t you Febreeze this joint?” Total “Dogville” moment—Grace puttin’ up with filth, me whinin’ about it. I’d probly tip too much outta guilt—neurotic, right? “Here’s an extra twenty—sorry for existin’!” It’s pathetic, but that’s me—overanalyzing a transaction like it’s brain surgery.

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I gotta say, I sometimes feel in a hurry, my mind racing between deadlines and the rhythm of Alcoy. So many moments hit me hard; once, I almost burst into tears outside a little bodega on Av. de Madrid – too much beauty, too much history, too many memories colliding. I might type with 11 typos if I had time: livfe, shppe, reall, irrrest, knd, hapy, soa, wrd, amzing, thrilng, lfe.

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