Becoming Me
Stream of Consciousness - January 14th, 2026
I don’t know why I tend to lean on the english language to write some of my stuff. It’s like I go inside my mind and say, Español, take a break, and off he goes to rest.
To me, it feels a bit poetic.
To me, it’s as if there’s another voice coming from within.
My own, but different. Even the tone is calmer and wiser, somehow.
Is my english-speaking persona a millennium-old guy, or am I just delusional?
—
Exercising has become, once again, part of my routine.
It’s a habit now, which makes it a lifestyle—or so I heard in a TikTok or a Reel or whatever.
I enjoy it this way, anyway.
The same way I enjoy having bread with peanut butter and slices of banana for dessert.
The same way I enjoy realizing I have not bitten my nails in a long time.
I have, though, been biting my nails a lot lately.
—
A pop-up appears: “Help me write.”
Why would I ask my Google Docs to help me write?
You do know I’m just… typing while I ponder and pondering while I type, don’t you?
Of course you don’t; you’re still just a machine.
—
I used to be ashamed of my english accent,
and for that I have an old friend to thank.
For that, too, I have a current mind to blame:
the one that gets self-conscious and anxious and LOUD.
I understood my old friend was not to blame.
I learned to stop taking others so seriously—and myself, for that matter.
Now I love my inglish accent.
—
One out of twelve:
the piano songs I promised to learn
to finally have a repertoire.
(I mostly improvise and am ashamed of myself when I don’t have actual pieces to play other than the ones that form out of the blue.)
One for each month of the year.
Congratulations are due in January
because I learned one,
and because it’s actually the name of the song.
I hope Mac Miller is looking down on us from heaven, smiling.
- Alfonso
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