I’ve never been shy. Rather, careless. But for a while—I think the pandemic must have something to do with it—I began to refer to another pathology, not wanting to draw too much attention. I realize I’m doing it wrong, but depending on what old adventure novels it may be outdated at my age, re-reading and I continue to do so. In a way, Julio Camba wrote that every illness is an adventure, and the only adventure possible when you reach an age. Tired of looking at the outside world, Camba said, one concentrates all attention within oneself and explores the liver and spleen, as well as exploring the most unknown and interesting areas of the planet. But for this, of course, the liver has to have personality, something that wouldn’t happen if it was perfectly healthy.
When life abandons her vertigo, she dives into intriguing introspection. And we get out of this by the extraordinary events that brought together more than a dozen people, and which, to give just one example, has practically disappeared since any mundane act of introducing a new brand of canned food. The trivialization of the existing world has allowed the devaluation of words in addition to people.
Aside from the most candid discoveries and the general apprehension of rising electricity bills and prices, the most surprising adventure may be to have listened to Michio Kaku, a Japanese-American theoretical physicist. digitize human consciousness and travel the world at the speed of light and in 15 minutes we will be on Mars. I am a fan of time travel that I will never do. In the meantime, I’ll be content to follow the hepatic personality.