Timpul zboara…
nu pierde vremea cautand
pantoful pierdut!
Nu stiu cati ani am. De copilaria mea nu-mi amintesc. Limba neamului meu am uitat-o. M-am nascut intr-o tara de miazanoapte. Stiu orasul in care unii trecatori se apropiau si imi vorbeau. O fata cu nume strein, stiu de ea, dar i-am uitat numele. Am uitat tot.
*
Asadar, Isabel. Daca ar fi numai numele… Dar, pentru Dumnezeu, am inteles din cea dintai seara ca e aidoma fecioarei Isabel din Oatacamund. E ea insasi. Numai trupul e schimbat si fata mai frumoasa. Nu o cunosc decat pe ea; si aceasta, pentru ca o cheama Isabel (…) Nu pot gandi – si atunci incerc sa vorbesc . Dialogul nostru are tot farmecul unei fete care nu gandeste si al unui ins care incearca sa-si invigoreze gandirea.
*
Isabel e frumoasa cand imbraca vesmantul de duminica.
*
- Spune, Isabel iti place mult salbaticia?… Si totusi, cand eu am fost salbatec in acea noapte de la Bristol? Spune, Isabel, spune… Haide, haide, spune-mi pe nume, acum. Incearca. Imi stii numele? E un nume frumos, Isabel, e din tara mea. Il stii?… E stupid sa taci mereu, Isabel… Haide, haide, zambeste si pentru mine, Isabel. Ai zambit o singura data, pentru Algie.
*
Isabel a inceput sa planga. Obrazul ei vested, desumflat, se umilea cu lacrimi. Trupul mic si deformat se cutremura suspinand. M-am asezat pe marginea patului si am incercat s-o mangai. Eram linistit; spectacolul nu ma turbura, nu ma misca. Eram impietrit – si voiam sa stiu, sunt neputincios sa scriu cat de aprig voiam sa stiu.
-Spune, Isabel, Isabel… spune…
(M. Eliade)
A howling wind is whistling in the night
My dog is growling in the dark
Something’s pulling me outside
To ride around in circles
I know that you have got the time
Coz anything I want, you do
You’ll take a ride through the strangers
Who don’t understand how to feel;
When I touched you
I felt that you still had your baby fat
And a little taste of baby’s breath
Makes me forget about death
At your age you’re still joking
It ain’t time yet for the choking
So now we can see the movie and see each other truly
In the deathcar, we’re alive
{10/08/2010}
Lounge for lovers
Will you raise me up, will you help me down? Will you get me right out of this town? Will you make it all a little less cold? Can you make it all a little less old? Will you make me some magic, with your own two hands? Can you build an emerald city with these grains of sand? Can you give me something I can take home? Will you cater to every fantasy I got? Will you hose me down with holy water, if I get too hot? Will you take me places I’ve never known?
And into that gate they shall enter, and in that house they shall dwell, where there shall be no cloud nor sun, no darkness nor dazzling, but one equal light, nor noise nor silence, but one equal music, no fears nor hopes, but one equal possession, no foes nor friends, but an equal community and Identity, no ends nor beginnings, but one equal eternity.
(J. Donne)
{23/01/2010}
I Hear Sound, I See Fury
{27/12/2009}
These Streets Will Make You Feel Brand New
Lights are blinding, girls need blinders
So they can step out of bounds quickly
The sidelines are blind with casualties
Who sip life casually, then gradually become worse.
Don’t bite the apple, Eve, caught up in the crowd,
Now you’re in style and in the winter gets cold
En vogue with your skin out, the city of sin is a pity on a whim.
Good girls gone bad, the city’s filled with them,
Hail Mary to the city you´re a Virgin,
And Jesus can’t save you, life starts when the church ends!
