Friday 28 October 2011

Lust for Life


I am a trapezoidal tree, with my brisky mane floating in the illusion, my roots were formed in bleeding ground; my trunk is pierced by a square ball that has left a hole like a window through which flows the sea, in which seagulls snivel like infants. In my sap cries the dust from which I draw and all the violins are tighed to my grandparents souls. My hands have eyes and I have mouths instead of feet, eating the ground while fleeing...

I step the pedals in a hurry and the nightly world passes by through my eyes, hallucinogenic and sad like a sea of golden spirits, juvenile and tender. The images stick at the border of my eyelids as wings of thousand footed spiders. The train is golden and shiny and takes my glance in it's speed. We race, then curve ourselves in the same curved line as in a non-Euclidian geometry; we leak together in a tender spin as lovers embraced in a dance. It steals my eyes from my eye sockets and runs away; imprints a rotation spin to my eye globes and REMs extremely beautifully coloured pulsate in front of me like in a magic lantern. I'm high. But I'm not on drugs. I'm on Life. I'm alive! I indulge into the pleasure of this pretious moment and I taste it, I bite from it as from a rare delicacy; I swallow this sensation with small bites as a ravenous cannibal, eating his thoughts in a transe.

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Sunt un arbore trapezoidal, cu coama zbarlita plutind in iluzie; radacinile mi s-au inchegat in pamant sangerand; trunchiul mi-e strapuns de o ghiulea patrata ce-a lasat in urma o gaura ca o fereastra prin care se scurge marea, in care scancesc pescarusii cu urlete de nou nascuti. In seva imi plange tarana din care ma trag si toate viorile laolalta sunt legate de sufletele bunicilor. In palme am ochi; si am guri in loc de picioare, cu care fug mancand pamantul...
Zoresc la pedale si lumea trece nocturna prin fata mea, halucinogena si trista ca o mare de spirite aurii, juvenile si tandre. Imaginile imi bat in pleoape si-n piept ca aripi de paianjen cu infinite picioare. Trenul e galben si poleit. Trenul e de aur si-mi fuge cu el privirea. Ne intrecem, apoi ne curbam amandoi in acceasi directie, ca intr-o geometrie non-euclidiana; ne scurgem impreuna intr-o rotatie mladioasa ca un dans de dragoste. Imi fura ochii si fuge cu ei; imprima spin de rotatie globului meu ocular si REM-uri  deosebit de frumoase pulseaza in fata-mi ca intr-o lanterna magica. I'm high, but I'm not on drugs. I'm on Life. I'm alive. Imi servesc ca o delicatesa acest moment pretios si-l inghit cu imbucaturi mici de canibal hamesit, fagocitandu-si gandurile.

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