Iată că am depăşit şi pragul de trei post-uri pe blog.
Dau publicităţii cel de-al patrulea meu post.
Ta-dam!

Iată că am depăşit şi pragul de trei post-uri pe blog.
Dau publicităţii cel de-al patrulea meu post.
Ta-dam!
Nimicul este totul. Până la urmă din nimic am apărut în mii şi mii de forme, de idei, de şabloane, stări şi etichete.
Nu am înţeles întotdeauna oamenii. Nici pe mine însămi nu ma pot cuprinde adesea. Am stări şi trăiri profunde şi abjecte. Mă înalţ în concepte nobile şi decad în noroiul dorinţelor şi nevoilor trupeşti.
Mă doare carnea de durerea din lume şi în acelaşi timp mă strafulgeră o bucurie, o stare de plutire când văd un copil zâmbind, o fată veselă ce are o loare în mână, un şofer de autobuz amabil, care îmi deschide uşa la stop.
Totul ţine de oameni şi de ideile lor despre nimic… Despre Tot.
For many times my mind just wonders onto the streets, looking for a partner mind. Or not necessarily partner… At least not in the classic or heteronormative way. My mind whishes any kind of free relationship. The only condition is the “compaticibility”. Let me invent you a story.
For example, once, a long time ago, my mind (from now on called MM) walked for a moment untouched by the almost permanent sensation of loneliness, calm and observing its own thoughts. Suddenly a little blue dog with a washed-out fur, due to the sun, rushed by me, straight through the ceramic liquid puddle near by MM. Of course my MM was splashed with ceramics from head to.. the other side of the head, just like the two honest traders, a poor traveling blacksmith and a young important lady, all those being in the vicinity of the event and suffering the same consequences as my dear MM.
- Oh my God!! yelled my dear MM. What a wonderful creature, what a nostalgic cheese breeze! What a puppy of wonderness yet untouched by the savage politics and demagogism of the past century!
Still, those facing the happenings weren’t so charmed! No, dialectical richness, no spasms of cerebral effervescence and happiness, NO! Not even the dry identical reaction or approval! Let me invent you what happened next! Wait and see:
- My leaf basket is ruined! I shall go back to the priest for a rebaptisment! That careless filthy bitch! It should be killed early in the morning, in the back of its neck, as well as the dragoon who gave him birth! He said just so in a hurry, one of the traders, obviously found in a predicament due to the wetness of the freshly blessed leafs.
The other man didn’t even said anything. He drinks slowly from his cefalexin forte that he made himself a moment ago, throws a devilish eye, takes a deep breath through his nostrils and laringi and then launches the greatest saliva conglomerate that I ever imagined, straight on the ground, as a sign of disgust of what just accured.
- I shall contract my “meattorney”! That low essence that ruined goodness of my kilt, shall cease to exist till Gold sets. (Her feathers were truly affected by the ceramics. It is known that the “ceraminoid” stains don’t just wash off that easily, on the contrary in some situations they are passed on after the owner’s death, up till the third generation.)
The poor blacksmith! Oh, the poor blacksmith! He saidn’t a word and continued on his road. The unrestness spread into the imaginary lungs of the present minds and at once started a heavy rain of lingvistic sulfur and ammoniac.
My MM. My poor MM… remained standardized as a malnutritioned struck head forward by a heavy meal that eventually lead to his death due to the great ingurgitation speed. This wasn’t the case of the MM. It was just some metaphysics.
So the MM did not knew what to believe. Surely they all have seen the same thing. And in this imaginary plane where these happen, perceptions don’t exist and all those minds know all the same thing, because they share the identical experience that the identical sensations gave them.
So it is just a different reaction caused by different temperaments (the temperament is the dynamical-energetic side of a personality). [that’s it, I said enough of this]
Where were we, that bittersweet and excellent vibration of innovation, of invention, of imagination – blue doggy dog probably bourn by a dragoon, like that gentleman said – disregarding the fact that he covered all of us with old Chinese porcelain, he was like a dance of lights who first met! Happy for sitting under the same star, without a blanket, directly on the grass, holding hands and dancing.
In that night, MM couldn’t rest a bit. And let me tell you why. Because HE HAD NO ONE TO TALK TO – NO ONE WHO WOULD CONTRADICT HIM – NO ONE TO TELL– ETC about what happened. And alone, lonesome and lonely, however he/she could be, talked and talked to thyself till falling asleep.
And thus the story is told and as we grow old, I’ve imagined this to be.
The End.
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