Poto was a fish. Poto was a happy fish until he realized that the world he was watching from his crystal-walled palace was nothing but a tiny fragment of the known universe. Luckily for Poto, his memory didn't last enough to be worried more that a few minutes. After that, Poto was a happy fish again.
If I knew I was pregnant right now, I wouldn't be worried about many things. I wouldn't be worried about all the weed I smoked in Amsterdam, one month after the last time I had sex. I would worry about all the tobacco, it honestly wasn't that much in comparison to what I used to smoke when I lived in my planet. If I found out, right this instant about me having a four-month foetus jamming my guts I wouldn't even be worried about that late night in Joe's about a month ago, when I thought it was a good idea to share a few lines of Magical Powder of Bolivia with two total strangers on top of the toilet paper dispenser. I wouldn't care at all that the father would be a French guy whose name I barely remember -and if I do remember it, it's actually because it reminds me of an historical character whom I admire. I guess I always dreamt about being a single mom, like Jenny Fields, with nobody to disagree about the raising of my progeny. I wouldn't mind about the money. I have money now, not a lot but enough to not be in a very sad position with a baby in my arms.
What I would worry about, if I found out I was pregnant right now, is that in the past month I have consumed enough coffee to fill an Olympic swimming pool. And yes, I write this while I'm having a coffee.
Anyway, I'm not pregnant. I thought I was for a few day, but only because I haven't had my period in a few month and I'm insanely fat, but apparently that's for other reasons... Now that I think about it, coffee might have stopped my hormonal cycle, that wouldn't surprise me at all, not after the amounts I've been injecting in my blood.
Having a coffee is not a reason to be ashamed these days... It's actually quite fashionable. Alcoholism, on the other hand, is so out. Cocaine is very "nineties" but, as you know, everything comes back and the nineties are starting to be cool again. I don't really mind being addicted to coffee, but it's starting to cost me a lot of money. It would be easier if I was just addicted to water, like that stupid arsehole was.
Daniel was addicted to water. Apparently the doctors told him it was called potomania, what he had, accompanied by an acute anorexia. This was before his homeless period, and after his cocaine period. He was laughing about it when he told me, of course. He told me one day he decided he wanted to drink a lot of water and for a few month from that, he couldn't stop drinking. He was always carrying a bottle with him and, of course, he wouldn't want to eat, but only drink water.
"The funny thing," he said, "is that my parents were happy for me. They kept on having cold water specially for me on the fridge, since they always saw me drinking it... we never kept water on the fridge before that. They thought I was being healthy, that it was a good thing."
He could have died.
Like so many other times... It's quite impressive that he's still alive, now that I think about it, specially after that time his brother tried to kill him.
