sau poate sunt deja.

… I need a slave who will stab me and a faithful dog that will devour my body…

I’m watching penguins of madagscar, episode – countless, writing a letter to Frau Camelia Voiculescu, blabbering about theatrical projects and realising just how much the Budapest Operetta and Musical actually kicks ass and listening to Bonaparte to shoot my ego down.

About as dead as could be.

Only a true panda expert, however, would know these startling facts:
That the otherwise slow moving Panda can outrun a cheetah when moving backwards
That panda fur, when woven into a fabric, is bulletproof
A panda briefly replaced Ringo Starr in the Beatles
Pandas were frequently used as background extras in classic black and white films
That all panda cubs or ‘cubinetts’ as they are called, are born female and will only turn male if given a fright in their first 48 hours

But it’s too late.

100 facts about pandas

Some came, some could have, but when they all went I gathered my gifts and borrowed possessions. Some stood still for years and taught me comfort and deeply rooted vice, some came around for a day or two and estranged vile hints for my immagination to indulge itself into. Some left dreams and music, some plagued me with courage or fear. Some even seemed to share the same story and give me that patterned air of emotional derrangement.

Now, I could recall all of them – all and none, only thinking of the one to come.

*****

Dupa Wings of Desire nici macar gandurile nu se mai simt in largul lor in stinghereala. Dintr-un bun simt, dintr-o nevoie de expansiune, n-as mai putea sa-mi permit ganduri meschine. Meschine prin lipsa de insemnatate, prin lipsa excesului, prin lipsa potentialului din ele. Trivialitate.

Dupa Pessoa, n-as mai putea scrie. Adevaratul lui jurnal – si nu falsul – ce jurnal devine asumat doar prin interpunerea unui nume, a unui personaj fictiv trasat in date biografice oarecum diferentiate de ale autorului, dar care nu lasa nici macar un singur eveniment de natura mundana sa transpara in inregistrarile lui zilnice? in constiinta lui? in scotocirea  care si-a retezat toate legaturile cu celalalt.

Si-atunci, din mijlocul ratarii si mediocritatii personale, prefer sa mor un pic. Doar pana dimineata.

*****

Your dreams, hopes, aspirations
Have all turned to dust
You’ve nobody left now to talk to
And you’ve no-one left now to trust
Should I mourn your decline
Should I be nice to you
Where do I draw the line

No, I will drink to your decline
I will drink to your decline

Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome The Tiger Lillies: The Decline

My body has become a vessel, a midnight vessel with all its voyages and storing compartments, with its seas of peace and horror, with its one dream that gives way to the morning. My body has become a vessel of fumes and toxins -a dragon spelled to sleep – a monster of the morning. A vessel for the pills and alcohol. A vessel for the vomit. A human vessel for you to come and spill your love.

and if i break -