The expression to lose your head brings to mind that fringe and tragic meaning we happen to associate with Marie-Antoinette and how the haughty frivolousness of her good-weather days turned nobly decorous in… Continue reading
The swing goes by the way of definition of something intangible, similar to the elements in Euclidean geometry, such as point, line, plane — objects without substance… Our idea of justice, being engendered… Continue reading
And as I no longer close the curtains or shutters, the bedroom is in mourning — dark. And when the door is half-open, there is a vertical black line, this narrow black column… Continue reading
I exist, around me extends the void, the real world’s darkness. I exist and continue blind, anxious, because people next to me are so obviously other beings, feeling nothing of what I feel.… Continue reading
Thomas would stay in his room to read — sitting with his hands joined above the forehead, thumbs pressed against the hair roots, so absorbed that he wouldn’t move whenever we entered. And… Continue reading
Of what nature was the Sirens’ singing? What was wrong with it? What was the defect that made it so powerful? Some say that their singing was human, a natural noise, for sure… Continue reading
See this poem, it will not deter crime, nor will it bring back to life a dead mammal, there are exaggerations: the computer navigates, the printer cuts down forests, while a distraught deer… Continue reading
Fifteen years ago, perhaps a little more, I was on my way from who knows where; late at night, the streets were empty. I was walking with an open umbrella over my head,… Continue reading
Beware of café conversations that leave you with migraine headaches the morning after. Drink in the company of people from other trades, they may actually teach you something useful, but stay away from… Continue reading
When he gets off his bicycle he has to be careful: these days, swinging a leg over the bike’s seat could turn into a trying experience. Once both feet are on the ground,… Continue reading