De-aia port tocuri doar când e strict necesar şi/sau am o mustaţă pe lângă mine. Pen’ că mustăţile sunt punctuale* şi dacă-s punctuale voi fi şi eu, în virtutea inerţiei. Pen’ că mustăţile ştiu din naştere să aproximeze timpul necesar unei gagici să-şi mişte curul din punctul x în punctul y, cu sau fără mijloace de transport motorizate, şi-or să te frece deci la icre până te ţii de program.

* eu nu sunt aproape niciodată punctuală. mustăţile cu care mă etalez, însă, e musai să fie. dacă nu sunt nu-i o problemă, pentru că nu mă atrag.

now turn your back and stop returning here. it does no good to either of us.

So you see a loose screw and you try to screw it back in. You push and twist it and turn and yet the damn thing just won’t fit. The more you try, the harder it gets.

Only too late, if ever, you stop to think that maybe the screw didn’t even belong there. Blank face, soft arms, you stare at the hole, screw in one hand. You switch your look from one to the other an then around you. Nobody saw anything. It’s all quiet. So you leave.

the snowball

February 18th, 2010

you wince and you think  and twist and turn that idea in your head, and in the end you decide to give it a try. that’s the moment. that’s the snowflake that starts it all. the ball starts rolling, increasing its volume, wadding, doubling its size, grabbing other snowfalkes in its way, rocking and flowing. it’s the flap of wings that you need to indulge yourself into, for your own sake.

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