Posts Tagged ‘[**’


August 6th, 2012

If it will be absorbed in my proper thoughts and dreams everything what I see is an indistinct mist of bodies to move it the same rhythm, without intention, route. It stows thus during 19 years and alone it has little time I woke up. I woke up and I got passionate myself. Now it is me difficult to read in the convoy, has as much thing to see! Before it thought about travelling to see natural monuments, wonders, to saborear regional plates and to smell new airs. Now, it has days where I feel that I cannot lose nor plus one minute without knowing the people of India, or the Cazaquisto, or Canada. I want to press the hand of an Australian with force and to make a vnia to a Japanese.

I want to speak on sex with an Arab woman and to ask to a Frenchman ' ' You want to marry me? ' '. Some time had had one dolo that she was a historical personage? I had, I have. Jlio Cesar. I want to have an imaginary colloquy with Jlio Cesar, Darwin, Clepatra and Joan D? arc. But also I want to have a private colloquy with that servant of room that served in Versailles during the reign of the King Sun and with salesman of fruit of the time of Salazar. I want to ask to a Russian peasant of century XIX ' ' It speaks with you, the nature! ' '. The difference between these last colloquies and the ones that I have been to describe, is that the first ones are possible, is to my reach, but tomorrow already they do not go to be.

My colloquy with rapariga that was to eat one crepe in Columbus belongs to the same category that all my investigations how much to the French cut with that servant of room. The past is the past and any chronological order imposed to the entity abstracta of the time that passed is only useful in the history lessons, not in the divagaes on lost chances. I never spoke, never I asked and all the faces hang side by side with the questions that had been never asked. It has something more hateful of what one asks that never was asked? It is as a letter that never was delivers or a trip that never was made. It is to cut for the root some thing before exactly of this thing to be. It is to relegate to the esquecimento an experience that never were had and a memory that never was formed. I arrived at the college. I cannot myself be forgotten to go to the reprografia to print those leves. (Sigh)