Like The Coldest Winter Chill

I'm pretty worried. I have a thousand things to do and I can't tell anyone. 
I feel so guilty, like if I were a lazy and irresponsible guy. 

The last couple of weeks, I've been working in home. 

The last days I went to the university, I shared space and time with four women.
Two of them are pregnant. Other is younger than me and probably she travels on a daily basis from Lerma to Mexico City and viceversa, and she's exposed to unknown viruses from unknown people. 

The other woman maybe has my age. She has told me that we knew each other when we were postgraduate students, almost ten years ago. She says someday I went to the lab where she worked and a friend of her introduced us. Honestly, I dunno remember that day.

Her husband works at a hospital and they have two kids. He was exposed to COVID-19 suspicious' patients the entire week. She was snoozing and coughing all day long and she told me that she was allergic and that she had forgotten her anti histamines. I believed her. 

Even though we avoided physical contact, some students went to the office. Some of them tried to give you the hand and some of them coughed and sneezed. 

Also, on an everyday basis I was traveling from my house to the university and back from university on public transportation. In Lerma, there are some sort of shared cabs and I took four of them each day. Passengers were pretty close to me. Some of them coughed and sneezed, like if they were harmless behaviors. It was impossible to keep distance. 

The last day I came back from university, I was OK. 

The day after, I had to go to the supermarket. We we're running out of food!

We took an Über. We did what we needed to do, as fast as we could. 

The supermarket was sort of empty. There were just a few customers walking here and there. 
I saw an elderly couple making their shopping and I suddenly imagined that my wife and myself could be those elders at some point, and I felt excited. 

Even though I have a bad feeling on that, I just can't stop thinking of one period of my life on which I can do all the stuff I love to do –writing, playing my electric guitars, reading–, just as I do now, but excluding all these horrible bureaucratic issues I sometimes have to deal with... and just giving a fuck for the entire world.  

It called my attention one thing: the section of canned food was almost empty. 

As we were about to pay our shopping, I started to have the chills. 

Later, back in home, I felt sort of ill. I had abrupt changes of temperature and I felt weak and sleepy. I felt my bones hurting, like if I just had walked for miles under a heavy rain. I was exhausted and I thought I was about to have the flu. 

On these days it's impossible to be unaware of COVID-19 symptoms' and I got worried.

Maybe I was just paranoid, but what if I was about to get sick...?, what if I would have to isolate from my wife and from the world...?, what if someone in the job had just infected me?

To things get worst, my wife is hypertensive...

I talked to my sister in law –she's a physician– and I told her how I felt and she recommended me to take some Paracetamol pills. 

I had a couple of terrible nights. 

I dreamt my colleague –the one who was coughing and snoozing in the real world– and myself had some sort of ill relationship. We were hiding from all the people who know us and trying to have a serious conversation. I sensed that she was pregnant and I was so afraid and I felt so stupid. 

As the dream progressed, the environment became darker and colder. It seemed that the Earth was getting sick, too. 

I also had hypnopompic hallucinations of my colleague and I woke up several times repeating a magic word who supposedly would end up this pandemic. 
Obviously, I was febrile. 

I had nightmares and I barely slept three or five hours per night. 

The entire weekend, I felt so weird. 

I convalesced watching some old Headbanger's Ball shows' with Alice In Chains on YouTube. It was very strange. They were premiering some videos of their 1995' eponymous album. I have heard that album several times, I like it a lot. I even own a physical exemplar of the compact disc. I bought it at El Chopo a couple of weeks ago. It's sad to realize that compact discs are in extinction pathways. 

Nevertheless, I hadn't watched their videos. Neither I had seen an interview of the band around that time. 

As I saw Layne Staley, with an heroin-addict appearance, trying to focus on the silly questions of Riky Rachtman, I realized that I never think of him as a contemporary of Kurt Cobain and Mark Lanegan –even though I'm a big fan of Tom Hansen's awesome novel, on which he describes, in a pretty rad way, how “heroin world” was in the early 90's–, but as a musician from another time and genre. 

I supposed my opinion is influenced by the fact that someone who I really dislike introduced me to Alice In Chains and that he was crazy about Mad Season. 

It was pretty strange. 

And, for a couple of seconds, as I died on my bed, I felt I was fifteen years old and that I was watching for the very first time an Alice In Chains' music video. I ended up thinking about myself back then. In resume: in 1995, my life wasn't as boring as it seemed to me. I just was a damned stupid. I didn't even know how to play “Queen of the rodeo” on guitar. All I wanted to have was enough time to read poetry, to write poems and to befriend with a crazy punk rocker girl. 

Now, as the disease spreads across the country and the authorities seem to give a fuck about the physicians, the small businessmen and the rest of the citizens, I have to deal with the fact that my colleagues might see me as an irresponsible lazy guy. 

(Really guys, believe or not: my life would be on risk if I moved from Lerma to Mexico City, on a daily basis.) 

I live in Lerma 'cause I have to teach classes almost everyday, 'cause I have academic meetings almost everyday... 'cause I have to work on a million bureaucratic issues... I don't have a car to move by my own resources and by my own risk to Mexico City. I don't even drive. I have not even had a driver's license!

Besides, I can't eat as a normal person. Moving implies many complications to me. 

A couple of years ago, I had a surgery and I can't fast for more than three hours and I cannot eat the food normal people eat. Moving is not a simple option to me, right now. 

My colleagues perform some experiments in Mexico City. They are allowed to do it before 14: 00. I spend three hours from my house to the lab. Public transport currently has some limited schedules. It's pretty complicated. 

Hate to say so. 

On this quarantine, I wake up early in the morning and I turn on the laptop and I start to work from 8:00 to almost 18:00 0r 19:00. 

Usually I have a couple of meetings via Skype, at last once per week. 

For two weeks I've been writing the discussion of a paper. Normally, I don't even have time to do it. I just, in general, dislike the data, but I must publish this paper, some way or another.

Right now, I have to write a protocol from a totally different research project... I have to make an awful tax process... I have to start writing at last one review from a totally different topic... I have to start to prepare virtual classes for the two courses... and I wish I could enjoy everything I do, but I feel so guilty. 

I really hate it. 

Heaven Beside You

July 23rd, 1993

I'm listening to this show. 
It's hard to realize that it was recorded 26 years ago, on July 23rd, 1993. 

It is surrounded by stories. 

Supposedly, Kurt Cobain overdosed before the show. 
As far as I remember, Krist Novoselic has confirmed it. 

Supposedly, MTV recorded the entire show. 
At least, several clips of the show –including excerpts of Scentless Apprentice, Milk It, Come As You Are and Lithium– appeared soon after, regularly on MTV. 

Fans have been waiting for an official release of this show. 
Paramount Theatre, Reading Festival and Live & Loud –three of the long awaited shows of the short career of Nirvana– were finally released after 30 years or so. 

Rumors about official releases of Hollywood Rock Festival (1993) and Paradiso (1991) appear on almost every Nirvana Fanbase on the internet. 
They seem to be just rumors.

Though From The Muddy Banks Of The Wishkah (1997) includes some rad versions of the most famous songs of the band in soundboard quality and though Krist Novoselic personally listened to entire shows and then selected a bunch of songs –supposedly, he even traded shows on the internet with fans–, it's unlikely that someday, some of these shows be available on its entirety as official releases for fans.  

I hope to be wrong. 

How would it be to have an official Roseland Ballroom release...?
How would it be to have an official release of Nirvana's last show in Seattle, four months before Kurt Cobain's corpse had been found on the greenhouse at his home in Lake Washington...?

On the internet, it's easy to find out several versions of the Roseland Ballroom show. 
Most of them were recorded with lo fi devices. 
People who attended to it, say it was a really intense show. 

Nirvana was about to release In Utero. 
Does anyone imagined that it would be their last studio album...?

The band had recently declared that they refused to make songs in the style of the multi-awarded Nevermind. 
They even had hired Steve Albini and they were so happy with the rough sound of In Utero.

Fans and media were starved for another Nirvana record and they were so impressed by the new songs.  

The recording of the upcoming album was also surrounded by stories. 

Supposedly, Geffen executives didn't like the original album version and so they forced Nirvana to hire Scott Litt to re-arranged a couple of songs –All Apologies, Pennyroyal Tea and Heart-shaped box... 

Supposedly, Radio Friendly Unit Shifter was the way the band made the audience to notice the censure of the record company they were forced to deal with.  

On this show, Nirvana played several songs of In Utero –Very Ape, Milk It, Scentless Apprentice, tourette's... – and they even invited John "Big" Duncan to the stage, to play a few songs as a second guitarist. 

Pat Smear was still not part of the band, but Kurt Cobain had spoken about the need to have a second guitarist to the rest of the band. 

John "Big" Duncan then was the guitar tech of Kurt Cobain. 

Duncan was so close to the leader of Nirvana that he recently has told to the media that Kurt was about to change from Stratocaster to Telecaster and that he wasn't really satisfied with the sound of the Jagstang that Fender had customized for him.  

I'm listening to an incomplete version of the Roseland Ballroom show, but it has soundboard quality. 
It includes excerpts of Scentless Apprentice and Rape Me.
It also includes Blew, School, Aneurysm, Come As You Are, Breed, Lithium and Drain You.

The picture I uploaded to this post, reminds me of one of the volumes of the Outcesticide collection that was illegally released soon after Kurt Cobain's death. 

I bought a bunch of Outcesticides when I was a teenager.

The one I refer to included the extended crazy version of Scentless Apprentice that Nirvana played in Rio de Janeiro in 1993. 

Today, I'm pretty sad and angst. 

I started to write a novel almost six years ago.
I submitted it to a contest a year ago. 
I submitted it to another contest on April. 

Between contests, I reviewed it several times.
This last time, the reviewing process almost made me crazy.
My entire life was devoted to the novel. 
It became some sort of obsession.
I became obsessive-compulsive to it. 

After a couple of weeks on my new job, the University was closed due to a strike.
The strike lasted for three months and I was broke and trying to deal with it, working as if money didn't matter to me.

I was really desperate and frustrated when I reviewed and re-wrote the novel and so I put all of my feelings on it. It might sound stupid, but I put my heart and my rage on it.

The novel has a solid structure. I worked on it for almost six years.
I've been writing since I was born. It's complicated to explain why I'm not another guy writing and pretending to be outstanding. Sometimes I think I really need to make friends with editors. 

The results of the last contest were announced today. 
A woman with 6K followers on Twitter won the contest. 
She also won another contest on the last years. 
She was also involved on some sort of TV show. 

This contest was meant to be for young writers. 
The last year a guy with a high-level scholarship for writers, won the contest. 
I understood that a "young writer" was more close to describe an "unknown writer" than to describe "a writer with few publications", but, maybe, I'm wrong. 

I just want to make it clear: one way or another, one day I will publish this or another novel. 

Let Me Dirty Up Your Mind

In 1996, I was 16 years old. Most of the time, I watched MTV. 

All I did was to listen music, but hadn't enough money to buy many records -I was so lazy and never considered to get a job- and also I was so frustrated 'cause I would never have the opportunity to hear Nirvana in a live show. 

Supposedly, they had played in Tijuana back in 1989, or so, long before Nevermind overthrew Dangerous' King of Pop. It was the closer they ever played to Mexico City, and I'm pretty sure that I still cared about Thundercats then.

At some point, in almost all MTV shows, people started to talk about a band in which Butch Vig was the drummer. I was so curious to listen to this band they talked about. Would they sound like Nirvana or Nevermind? Would I like their music?

It was a sunny afternoon in the middle of  autumn, when I finally heard Garbage. 

As usual, after another day in school, I sat on the living room and turned on the TV. 
The guy on MTV said he was about to show for the first time Queer, another single of the debut album of Garbage. 

He also said that Garbage's Stupid Girl and Only Happy When It Rains videos' were on a regular rotation on MTV and that people just loved them. 

via GIPHY

I felt hypnotized. It was a cryptic video, but I loved it. The music didn't sound like Nevermind at all, but I liked it, too -even though I wasn't, and I'm not, really a guy of loops and sfx. 

Nevertheless, I felt more attracted to the singer. She was beautiful, irreverent and provocative. Also, her voice was so sweet and soft. She sounded like a real singer, nothing to do with Courtney Love, which was almost the only female I used to listen up to. 

Monday night was my first Garbage experience -they played with Blondie and it was the last show of the Rage And Rapture Tour- and I just bought a couple of tickets a week ago. 

For a long time, I hadn't listened to the band. So I bought Strange Little Birds -and I loved Empty, Blackout and Even If Our Love Is Doomed- and in a few days I listened all the Garbage records' I own. 

Listening to their debut album, made me feel nostalgic. Didn't remember that once I met girl that used to be a Shirley copycat.  

While Shirley Manson sang and Butch Vig played the drums and both Duke Erikson and Steve Marker played guitars and Eric Avery -from Jane's Addiction!- played bass guitar, I wondered why in the hell I hadn't been in a Garbage live show. I know they've played in Mexico City constantly. Shirley said so. 

Even though they didn't played Queer, I loved the show. 
I'm becoming a big fan of their music, even though I still like garage punk bands. 
I'm sure at some point I'm going to read their book. 
   

Setlist, Palacio de Los Deportes, August 14th, 2017.

Queer

Porcelina Of The Vast Oceans

One cold night –perhaps on November of 1995–, I watched an amazing show on MTV. 

There was this band of four or five guys (I don't remember if there was a keyboardist) touring an album named Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness. Supposedly the album had been released a month ago, or so. 

The show started with a long song.

Amongst hypnotic changes of lights and beautiful images of the oceans reflected behind the members of the band, the cymbals and the guitar sounded slowly... as if their purpose was to wake up the audience from a warm dream. 

The atmosphere was so blue and calm. 

The song didn't sound like anything I had heard before. 

The music was soft and enveloping.

After a few cycles, the cymbals stopped and the guitar and the drums sounded like a fierce roar. Then, again, while a bold guy with a Stratocaster sang the verse and the chorus of the song, the music returned to the softness of the beginning.

The lyrics seemed so poetic and elaborate. It seemed to me that the writer of the song was not a common guy, that he or she didn't read silly literature. 

I hadn't heard of Smashing Pumpkins before, though I watched MTV almost everyday.  

The bold singer, at the center of the stage, with a black and white Stratocaster on his shoulders, was difficult to ignore.

He dressed a black shirt with the legend "Zero" in silver capital letters on his chest and he also wore silver brilliant trousers. He sang with passion and his voice sounded violent and guttural sometimes and sweet and melodic other times. He also kinda sang out of tune. He looked like a mad astronaut. I thought he was the brain of the band. 

Billy Corgan was a rockstar and a poet. 

The drummer, behind the singer, played with intensity. He made the snares and cymbals sounded so coordinated, changing from jazz to heavy rock n' roll beats. I thought of him as the soul of the band. 

On the right side of the stage, there was a thin asiatic-like guy. He seemed so shy, and out of place. He seemed an introverted man trying to be extroverted, but he was completely focused in being the lead guitarist of the band. 

The bassist player, at the left of the stage, was a blonde woman. She had pale skin. Her face was covered of something that looked like powder coating, and she was scary and attractive at the same time. Somehow, she looked sad or indifferent to the fans. 

Nevertheless, she tried to smile each time she had to whisper parts of the chorus of certain songs, and never stopped accompanying the chords and beats of the songs with her Fender Precision Bass. 

Though I didn't know they had a romance, I thought of James Iha and D'Arcy Wretsky as the heart of the band. 

via GIPHY

I was a teenager of almost 15 years old.
Music was everything for me.
The band impressed me so much. 

After three songs or so –maybe the show was edited by MTV– the Smashing Pumpkins played an acoustic set. 

The sweet-furious formula of the previous songs, changed a lot. 
Even Chamberlin used a smaller drum set than the one he used in the first part of the show. 

The members of the band took their places in a small surface of the stage. I think they even sat on small chairs. I didn't know the name of any of the songs they played, but I liked them, too. 

I also found the lyrics sort of poetic. 
I vaguely remember that these acoustic songs talked about love and anguish. 

(A few months later –when my brother and myself started to buy Smashing Pumpkins' albums– I would know that they had played Disarm, 1979 and In The Arms of Sleep on this acoustic set.) 

After the third commercial pause of MTV, the band played another heavy new songs from Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness and some other older songs like Today, and I kinda recognized it. I had watched the video of the song. The members of the band were mirthfully painting an ice-cream wagon and they looked so silly and dumb in the video. 

I guess they appeared so dumb that I just did not pay attention to their music. 

While I watched the show on MTV, suddenly I felt I was a moron because I was so bigoted and I didn't know such an amazing band existed.

A couple of weeks later, as a Christmas gift, my father gave us money.
My brother and myself found Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness in a supermarket and we bought it in compact disc format. We really enjoyed it. We heard it everyday. We recorded it on a cassette and we listened it on a walkman on our way to school or while we traveled across the city on the backseat of the red Jetta, as our dad drove to a boring place and our mom and our little brother were so impressed by the lights and by the Christmas ornaments hanging on the tall buildings in the streets. 

I listened that album for almost one year, day after day.
I even memorized all the lyrics. I even filled a notebook with Corgan-like poems.
Now, I hardly remember the lyrics. I lost that notebook as I lost my memory. 

Mellon Collie was released on October 24, 1995. 

                                                      

Love Is Suicide

Porcelina Of The Vast Oceans