Inkriql Posted January 2, 2020 Share Posted January 2, 2020 We always start the year at ICON with a first-person account about the characteristics of New Year's Eve and the challenges of the new year. In 2016, for example, we talked about a man who decided to party alone. In 2017, one who came out and did not taste a drop of alcohol. In 2018, about one that didn't even leave his house. Today, when 2020 begins, we have already passed New Year's Eve in all its forms and we face the most delicate of the new year: the purposes. The oven was for me a dangerous and unknown terrain until someone explained to me, in 2016, that it was enough to indicate the temperature and the type of cooking. How easy! Why nobody had told me before? “Do you know what kind of plan never fails? No plan". The phrase is from Parasites (Bong Joon-ho, 2019), one of the most celebrated films of the year that has just ended, and serves to illustrate the futility of those New Year's resolutions that we strive to fulfill each year, almost always with disappointing results. On the other hand, it is logical to make plans in our head: we operate based on schedules, lists, stops and deadlines. Few things are more exciting than trying to be a better person. And few are less surprising than verifying that we have not succeeded. ADVERTISING inRead invented by Teads These are mine, as particular as universal, as human as pathetic, as frivolous as they are deep. It is possible that a few readers who have tried one day to be better people can be identified in some. And surely almost anyone can be reflected in any process that involves desire, pretense and failure. In 'The Client' (1994) Brad Renfro played a troubled boy who was already smoking at the age of eleven. A great movie, a bad example. In 'The Client' (1994) Brad Renfro played a troubled boy who was already smoking at the age of eleven. A great movie, a bad example. 1. Quit smoking When did I set it? 2014 When did I get it? 2019 I am part of the statistics: I wanted to smoke because in the cinema I smoked all the people I liked. If you ever hear someone again saying that fiction is partly to blame for our vices, don't take it for granted. In my case it was the fault, especially, The Client, the 1994 thriller in which Brad Renfro, with eleven years, smoked the pitis that robbed his mother. And how good he smoked! What a style, what a class, what a dangerous and busty guy. I left the cinema (I was eleven too) and I said to myself: "I'm going to have that hairstyle and I'm going to smoke!" It was my New Year's resolutions in 1994. To smoke it took a few years, I waited to get to the institute. Regarding the hairstyle (a kind of mullet macarrita that he had great), anyway. When I tried it at home and arrived at class the following Monday, the language teacher interrupted the lesson to point me out and ask: "And you, Alonso, why did you come combed like a poet?" Conclusion: let's not try to imitate cinema. I decided to quit smoking in 2014 because I had an asthma attack in Lipari, a lost island in northern Sicily that, if you think about it, is a beautiful and poetic place to die for. I did not die: I smoked less since then, yes, but it was not until 2019 when I took a hangover of tobacco (the previous Saturday, between wines and glasses, I had smoked too much) to not smoke one day. And then two. And then three. Then the whole week. And so three months go, a little without realizing it. Brad Renfro, that handsome actor that I took as a hair and behavioral model, not only smoked: he started using marijuana at eight, heroine at twelve and cocaine at fifteen. He died at twenty-five. Eye to choose idols. 2. Exercise So I took it to heart to leave less than now I think I should go out more, because I often see friends or acquaintances and they ask me where I have gotten, if I am in a sect, if I have had babies, if I have become a monk of I close or practice asceticism in my living room with the blinds down When did I set it? In 2005, in 2006, in 2007, in 2008, in 2009, in 2010, in 2011 and in 2012. When did I get it? In 2013. This chronology of events is more common than the flu: I signed up for the gym, bought a tracksuit and prepared a backpack with a towel, water and lock for the box office. But once I stood in the fitness room that place seemed like a sovereign slap, a sad flea where people ran on tapes without getting anywhere, lifted heavy things without ordering anything and hung on stretched bars like octopuses that the sun dries on the island of Paros. I repeated this process one day a year for many: I signed up, went two days and forgot. Until in 2013, while on vacation at the beach, someone took a picture of me and it happened, no more: I looked fat, fat, huge. And I did not like it. In September 2013, when I returned from those vacations, I signed up for a gym close to home. Condition number one: if the gym is not at hand, one does not go. This time, still shocked by that image of myself that had disgusted me so much, I did not give up in horror after two days, but endured a few more and completed a week. Condition number two: this is like the cold water of the beach, if you endure the first minutes it will start to be pleasant. And it turns out that after those few days I noticed some result, little thing, but I saw it, it was there. Condition number three and the most important: when you notice that it works, even if it is a minimal effect, one keeps going and, this time, with courage and conviction. That nobody sees in this a generalized call to go to the gym to have a normative body, no. It felt good to my head after a year, in addition, that it was not especially easy, but perhaps the reader prefers to sign up for chotis classes, take walks in the park or ride a bike. Condition number four: do what you want, but do something. They say it makes you happy. I don't say it, science says it. In 'American Beauty' (1999), one of the great chronicles about the age crisis that contemporary cinema has left, Kevin Spacey decides to start exercising in his basement to try to encourage a life that goes to hell. In 'American Beauty' (1999), one of the great chronicles about the age crisis that contemporary cinema has left, Kevin Spacey decides to start exercising in his basement to try to encourage a life that goes to hell. 3. Exit less When did I set it? Never, really. When did I get it? In 2017 The thing is that going out at night was fun, so it never occurred to me to stop. Until it suddenly began to be fun, one day, without knowing very well why. Was it because he had a boyfriend? Yes, but I already had it before 2017 and I had continued to wake up many Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays with my head stuck in the toilet. Also, thinking about quitting dating because of a partner is a very poor thing of spirit. Was it, perhaps, because he had developed an atrocious phobia of nightclubs and generally dark and crowded places where the music is very loud? That will be. I think the short answer to this intrigue is that I became a premature old man with 35 years. There is not much epic here. And it is something that bothers me deeply, because if I have admired something it is always people who do not behave according to their age. The disco sallys, those people who continue to drink and dance at forty, fifty and sixty surrounded by people who could be their children or their grandchildren, have always conquered me by their way of laughing at the conventions challenge time and, if they hurry me , to the death. Only now they fascinate me from home. As I read, when we see a very attractive person, our brain starts releasing dopamine, a stimulant that can cause us to act as if we were nervous or a little drunk. Beauty drunk! 4. Exit more When did I set it? In 2018 When did I get it? I haven't got it yet. Well, I took it so hard to go out less than now I think I should go out more, because I often see dear friends or nice acquaintances and they ask me where I have gone, if I am in a sect, if I have had babies, if I have I have made a closing monk, or an Anacoreta, or if I practice asceticism in my living room with the blinds down. In 2020 I have to lose my fear of crowds, places where there are people, to meet new people. Could it be that I've already met too much? Science says that the human brain can tolerate 5 great friends, 15 dry friends and 50 acquaintances. I probably reached that ceiling during the time when I woke up with my head in the toilet and no longer needed to see anyone else. Go out more or go out less at night? In the comedy '200 cigarettes' (1999), as their faces indicate, Paul Rudd and Courney Love decide to go out more. Go out more or go out less at night? In the comedy '200 cigarettes' (1999), as their faces indicate, Paul Rudd and Courney Love decide to go out more. 5. Drink less When did I set it? Never, really. When did I get it? I will never get it. Because beware, going out less at night does not mean you drink less. In fact, the wine aisle of my supermarket has become my new social club: there I am already able to identify the faces of other regular liquor buyers and I meet acquaintances who ask me about my life and urge me to stay for have a drink (on dates that never materialize) while deciding whether to take a Rioja, a Cariñena, a Toro, a Rueda or the four at the same time and holy Easter. And how am I going to drink less? How will I drink less if the economy collapses, the poles melt, the extreme right is installed in the governments of Europe and time passes, inexorably, leaving gray hair on 2 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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