Over two months ago or so, I had joined a gym. The plan was to get beck into my fitness live style and all that jazz. Three to four weeks later, I canceled my membership. At the time — and perhaps still — I wasn’t feeling too comfortable to be in such a place. Also did not help that the place didn’t seem been taken cared for. This week, I started again, but at home, here it’s safe — allegedly.

And here’s the thing. When you are at the gym, you are physically and mentally — ideally — there. Once you’re there, it is you and your thoughts, perhaps your music, iron, and sweat. When you are at home, well, I feel like there are more distractions, even if you’re by yourself. Maybe not distractions but temptations, you can stop and just sit on the couch, or go tothe fridge and whatnot.

This has been my problem when working out at home, all the distractions and temptations. This week I found a way to make it work.

I need to keep the monkey, in my brain, occupied.

So, I have my ’routine’ and, if possible, I turn the tv, put Naruto on, and get to it! Yes, you could say this could be a distraction, true. However, I have already seen this anime show, and it is not playing for my entertainment, it’s for the monkey in my brain.

I am not certain that I ever want to go back to a gym, I mean, I like gyms, just not sure if I’m comfortable with them — yet. The idea is to buy equipment, little by little, and condition the garage as my home gym.

We shall see

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Luna, my 2-soon-to-be-3 years-old, truly knows how to troll me and push my buttons. She knows I loathe it when she calls me daddy, I’m not ‘daddy’, I am papá!

But every time I call her attention for something she’s not supposed to be doing or say,

Luna, no

I get the,

okay, daddy

🤬

i am not entirely sure what made me think about this but, thought of it, i did anyway.

Back in the college days, when i still had no car or license to drive. (yes, i didn’t have the need for driving and didn’t get to it until my first year of college). i was always out and about with my buddy jonathan. Jonathan, had a nissan sentra (can’t remember the year) but it was relatively old but in good conditions. good as in good to go out drag-racing other cars.

one particular afternoon we were strolling, probably on our way to some hole-in-the-wall to have a few beers. this is ponce, Puerto Rico, it was hot, hence a cold beer was needed. we are in our way when we saw another sporty car, a possible racing contender, right.

we approach the other car, and it is obvious our intentions, or jonathan’s rather. the gentleman on the other car gets what we are trying to do, to which he yells at us,

sorry, i am working

and proceeds to show us his gun.

i cannot tell or remember the model, type of gun but to me, it was huge and reason enough to reply,

sorry, our bad, good luck

we drove away, to the hole-in-the-wall, and had a few beers in peace.

the end

Yet again, I am having ideas of closing my instagram account. This time, for like the fifth time, sighs. Not because it is overwhelming or hate against Facebook (or Meta), but because my tendency to browse or look at things that somehow causes me anxiety in some ways. And it is especially through its explore tab. I go in there and I doom-scroll and it might sound stupid but, I get anxiety out of it. And even thoughI know this, I fall for it every time.

Comparison is the thief of joy

— attributed to President Theodore Roosevelt and others

I wish there was a way to hide that tab or there was a third-party Instagram client, so I can ignore that feature. Though, for me, it is not a feature. I indeed closed the account a few days ago out off impulsive rage — for like 12 hours. Instagram is no longer a place for photos, I don’t enjoy it as such, it is more a way to stay in contact with friends that are not in my usual social venues.

I’ve got to turn this thing off!

According to this notification, my AirPods Pro are somewhere in the middle of the freeway.

What?

I actually doubled guessed myself for a second!

My AirPods are actually — and have been the entire time — in my left pocket.

🤨

The issue began with the controversy between Big City Coffee and BSU's Inclusive Excellence Student Council. The group members, according to its Facebook page, are "student activists at Boise State seeking the liberation of all historically and systemically marginalized peoples."
Fendly's shop prominently displayed the "thin blue line flag" as a sign of her support to police officers. Some, however, view that flag as a symbol of white supremacy.

Source: BSU asks courts to dismiss $10 million Big City Coffee lawsuit | KBOI

The "thin blue line flag". A blue line flag. A blue flag. 

A flag as a symbol of white supremacy.

This is a thing that has been in my mind for over a year or so, ever since election year, which was last year. We have become extremely polarized and very vocal. I feel like symbols, words, actions, and flags have taken a very different meaning entirely for many. In some ways. As we have become more and more polarized and vocal, also, easily triggered and, sometimes, easily offended. Everything is a statement. We get angry and instead of having a good conversation, we turned towards rage and hate. I know this because it happens to me all the time. I get easily triggered and hence, angry.

I live in Idaho, this state is a red as it can get. I feel like only a small number of us are more liberal than the majority of the population here. I still see the trucks with the Trump's flags, the confederate flags, and other bumper stickers or signs of what can be considered just conservative propaganda, patriotism, or white supremacy propaganda, depending on who you ask.

It is been hard for me to distinguish them, in the past two years. Especially in this town. I see a big truck with the American flag and I don't know exactly why... Are you a patriot, a conservative, or a white supremacist?

If This Flag Offends You, I'll Help You Pack

I have seen these bumper stickers in so many vehicles around town. They usually are accompanied by some other unsavory propaganda and whatnot.

It is hard to get behind a flag when this flag has been turned into something it isn't or shouldn't be.

You are a Puerto Rican, what the fuck do you know?

Also true, perhaps...

What I do know is that both my dad and my grandpa, and many of my cousins and uncles, have fought for the same flag.  And something in my gut tells me that the flags I see in trucks are not the same flag they fought or are fighting for.

Or so I want to believe.