course as always, you did not answer. You will not answer my questions. It became a habit, I ask questions, I try to understand, I try to understand you, and the horizon moves away (you know, the horizon disappears when the possibility of Ulysses, he n 'was not wrong, I admit, one day ...), the more I find myself making, contained, muffled in a place dark, opaque as naphtha, crude oil, unrefined, we found that for a whole summer on the beaches, because a boat had sank and its sides had been gutted by the swell.
past, I remember, I put my hand in the warm hand that was stretched towards me, and I asked all the questions that came to mind, receiving a pain au chocolate, escaped issues my lips, I looked around and gestures had a spontaneity that I do is more. They floated in the transparent air, and often I felt a smile that rested on me. And stage repeated to ∞, I thought it would last forever.
Now I do not understand anything ... You again became opaque and mysterious, inert, gooey, your material has changed state, it looks like you got before this awful word, without enthusiasm, "Colloidal" and you repeat it in all possible cases, you change the context, but for years, I can not hear it in your voice, and I'm doing everything I can, I think I do skimp, I think, if I look at most of my consciousness, where there beats a little life still systole diastole, yet the pace is calm and regular, doctor even told me that I will live up to one hundred twenty years, I can say I'm really all I can.
But nothing helped. Nothing was done. There are now over, there's no big deal, it's not a brilliant and spectacular destruction, not only that, the world has become gently informs, colloidal, as in a Dali nightmare. Now
not mean anything ... everything comes out of my hands, and the possibility of Ulysses has disappeared over the horizon ∞.
0 comments:
Post a Comment