i'd like to take my time

you need not pull the curtains.it's alright.the sun may enter the room.so may the moon.the xilophone spreads around sweet sound flavours of both wealth and peace.my watch can take its time.may each second last three seconds..i'm not in a hurry at all. i'm not going anywhere.i'm yearning for my hands shaping round letters.i miss the compulsory dark-blue colour of the ink dripping from the pen.i miss blue ink staints getting through my fingertips.i can't picture myself ever missing the keyboard.
i hate speed.i'd rather have my days pourring slowly as if they were made of some honey i keep on twisting above the jar every now and then.
i preffer tasting paper with my fingers to seeing quick images unfolding on some display. i cannot be compelled into the features of this times. if only the subway stations were longer and interpersonal connections more dense..

a crescut mare

isi spuse ca deja a crescut mare.
cand yann tiersen ii devine premergator lui chopin in intruziunea spre subtilitatea,rafinamentul,matematica roditoare a portativelor aparent hieroglifice.
cand periplul prin note,sincope,contratimpi se concretizeaza in ore de plush si reverie inseamna ca te'ai facut mare. mare si norocos.
norocul vine si odata cu citirea ritmic repetata a randurilor lui cioran.."muzica este calea sonora a ascezei".
cand beatitudinea urca precum adrenalina si iti inclesteaza maxilarele in fiorul rece hedonistic.
cand te rasfeti in metrou privind grimase extenuate si ti le poti poti imagina zambind. cu atat mai norocos si fericit cand reusesti sa le transpui in pastel sau in uleiuri pe vreo panza a nimanui,plasmuita.
cand in recuzita proprie ai indeajuns de mult combustibil de ganduri bune si curate incat sa iti faci tie insuti surprize restrictionate in perimetrul dat de circumferinta propriului scalp.
cand iti simti zambetul propagat in alte zambete. te'ai facut mare,norocos,si simplu-fericit.
cand te bucuri daca in jur iti miroase a vanilie si atat. sau a scortisoara.
esti adult-bine cand gesturile si expresiile faciale ale copiilor ti se deruleaza cu incetinitorul pe retina.
cand hainele uneori brodate ale bunicilor iti vin si tie frumos.
cand reminiscente utopice inca iti paraziteaza mintea si iti vine sa chicotesti.
cand te trezesti inconjurat de persoane pe care iti vine sa le asezi in cutii cartonate si legate in funda cu pamblici de matase rosie.
cand ai invatzat sa privesti fara sa critici prin okii neinstruiti si inteligent-sclipitori ai annei karina,intruchipand'o pe nana a lui godard in "Vivre sa vie".
cand traiesti recontextualizata senzatia finalizarii catorva etaje de piese lego.
a crescut mare.

self-made

there was once upon a time a self-made princess living in a self-made tiny castle.
she used to like self-made sweet alcoholic drinks. and that would be due to the pleasant and thrilling taste of childhood,as well as the subsequent state of emphatic rapture.
she used to wear a self-made fringe decorating her forehead. the fringe would foresee her strong eyebrows and very black eyes.
she used to paint her lips in scarlet. she used to wear them in a self-made smile.
she used to dress up in self-made items that would enable her to dance a waltz of some self-made old times when going out at night.she scarcely seemed to inhabit time. she often idulged herself into that parisisian looking-like.
she hated the city she lived in,but she used to so very much love her fairy-tale friends. she would be fast blinking her eyelashes when being surrounded by people and quite seldom when walking quite alone,or reading,or drinking tea.
she used to smoke long,brown,cherry or chocolate flavoured cigars,using a long self-made cigarette holder.
she used to dream about a self-made piano she would have known to play..
she did not think a self-made prince-charming existed.