Dilapidation’s processes are organized Decays
<p>It is almost the last day of August. Tomorrow is my 77th birthday. Birthdays to me are melancholic events in which I remember my youth in Buenos Aires and the birthday parties (I hated them) that my parents organized for me in our long and narrow garden. The previous day was the day of St. Rose of Lima and it was notorious that on her feast day there was something called <em>La Tormenta de Santa Rosa.</em> But I don’t think that any of my birthdays were spoiled by rain.</p>
<p>Birthdays are melancholic because so many of those friends, cousins and of course my parents are all gone. I reflect on my birthday, always, the diminishing returns of all those that I once loved.</p>
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