Murmur de tacere, de vant adiere, … si glas.
[...] De mă voi scula, pre mulţi am să popesc şi eu [...]
Atingere suava
Ce buze frumoase
Si pielea… catifea
Saruta-ma !!!
Ador chipul tau, de vorbele tale,
iar de ochii tai, de buzele tale…
de trandafir petale…
Albastru si curcubeu… de apa tulburi nori.
Sunt romantic si de romantism mi-e greata…
Iar vorbe fara chip si tu ma placi
si eu te plac.
Ai ras frumos, dar ai disparut,
cu chip.
Ma tot astept sa rupi tacerea,
dar nu o faci.
Vreau doar adevar si stiu sa pierd
si am pierdut.
De ochii tai frumosi, simpatic!
Acum doi ani, o luna, m-ai salutat
Si te-am salutat
Si te cunosc, sau asa cred
Povesti fara chip, peste alte povesti,
Un chip si dispari.
Timp scurs, peste alt timp
Si te iubesc.
Otrava-n inima si ganduri…
Si ma dezamagesti, iar acum eu sunt cel ce dispare.
Am invatat sa pierd, de vorbele tale…
Ca tot povesteam acum cateva zile despre intalnirea mea cu Banchetul lui Platon (mai exact Mitul Androginului), iata si o varianta cosmetizata a acestuia:
Pour une meilleure compréhension ( 
) am sa insir si versurile below:
When the earth was still flat,
And the clouds made of fire,
And mountains stretched up to the sky,
Sometimes higher,
Folks roamed the earth
Like big rolling kegs.
They had two sets of arms.
They had two sets of legs.
They had two faces peering
Out of one giant head
So they could watch all around them
As they talked; while they read.
And they never knew nothing of love.
It was before the origin of love.
The origin of love
And there were three sexes then,
One that looked like two men
Glued up back to back,
Called the children of the sun.
And similar in shape and girth
Were the children of the earth.
They looked like two girls
Rolled up in one.
And the children of the moon
Were like a fork shoved on a spoon.
They were part sun, part earth
Part daughter, part son.
The origin of love
Now the gods grew quite scared
Of our strength and defiance
And Thor said,
“I’m gonna kill them all
With my hammer,
Like I killed the giants.”
And Zeus said, “No,
You better let me
Use my lightening, like scissors,
Like I cut the legs off the whales
And dinosaurs into lizards.”
Then he grabbed up some bolts
And he let out a laugh,
Said, “I’ll split them right down the middle.
Gonna cut them right up in half.”
And then storm clouds gathered above
Into great balls of fire
And then fire shot down
From the sky in bolts
Like shining blades
Of a knife.
And it ripped
Right through the flesh
Of the children of the sun
And the moon
And the earth.
And some Indian god
Sewed the wound up into a hole,
Pulled it round to our belly
To remind us of the price we pay.
And Osiris and the gods of the Nile
Gathered up a big storm
To blow a hurricane,
To scatter us away,
In a flood of wind and rain,
And a sea of tidal waves,
To wash us all away,
And if we don’t behave
They’ll cut us down again
And we’ll be hopping round on one foot
And looking through one eye.
Last time I saw you
We had just split in two.
You were looking at me.
I was looking at you.
You had a way so familiar,
But I could not recognize,
Cause you had blood on your face;
I had blood in my eyes.
But I could swear by your expression
That the pain down in your soul
Was the same as the one down in mine.
That’s the pain,
Cuts a straight line
Down through the heart;
We called it love.
So we wrapped our arms around each other,
Trying to shove ourselves back together.
We were making love,
Making love.
It was a cold dark evening,
Such a long time ago,
When by the mighty hand of Jove,
It was the sad story
How we became
Lonely two-legged creatures,
It’s the story of
The origin of love.
That’s the origin of love.
Poate sunt eu mult prea labil pentru secolul asta, dar melodia asta ma face intotdeauna sa (vreau sa) plang.
Nota: Videoclipul a fost extras din filmul Hedwig and the Angry Inch
Motto:
A fost odata ca niciodata, ca de n-ar fi, stiti voi, … Mos Craciun…
Povestea incepe in urma cu douazeci si ceva de ani… cand, intr-o luna calduroasa de august se nastea un baietel usor supradimensionat… si nu, nu pe fondul nefericitelor evenimente de la Cernobîl.
Mi-am dorit mereu sa astern paragrafe care nu au nici un fel de legatura unul cu celalalt, iar acum am in sfarsit ocazia sa o fac 
(nu va convine, scrieti si voi acasa sau dati un anunt la ziar).
Si ca sa nu bat campii prea tare, ca doar timpul tot pe bani se vinde, presupun ca ne amintim cu totii povestile copilariei gen Alba ca Zapada, Sleeping Beauty (in romana e tradus atat de prost incat as putea sa vars, asa ca prefer titlul dat de Fratii Grimm – même si à l’origine l’histoire s’appelait La Belle au Bois dormant), Cenusereasa, etc… Ei bine, daca dupa ce auzeau povestile astea, fetitele cu codite se inchipuiau in pielea personajului feminin, ajuns la o maturitate relativa, personajul povestii noastre – baietelul usor supradimensionat – realizeaza ca poate nu se inchipuia in pielea personajului feminin, dar undeva dupa varsta jocurilor de-a mama, tata, doctorul si asa mai departe, si el incepea sa viseze la Fat Frumos… si inca mai viseaza.
[…]
E de la ei as spune…, doar ca nu o spun pentru ca risc sa devin prea previzibil 
[…]
A, da, sa ma prezint. In povestea asta ma numesc “Q” (aflam ulterior cui corespunde acronimul), acesta e blog-ul meu (dupa lupte seculare) si am (ne)placerea sa va prezint viata vazuta prin ochii mei hipermetropi si astigmati.
Nota : Daca devin prea boring, nu ezitati sa faceti uz de ouale si legumele alterate din dotare !
Anyways, imi revine acum in minte… Mitul Androginului in varianta lui Platon, pe care din memorie il citeam acum niste anisori… pe vremea cand ma date-uiam cu un tanar care lucra pe la MEC (pe vremea aceea Ministerul Invatamantului), dar toate acestea si mai multe, intr-o varianta mult mai structurata si mai plina de sens, in episodul urmator.
Va urma…
Vad vise-ntrupate gonind dupa vise,
Pân’ dau în mormintele ce-asteapta deschise,
Si nu stiu gândirea-mi în ce sa o sting:
Sa râd ca nebunii? Sa-i blestem? Sa-i plâng?
La ce?… Oare totul nu e nebunie?
Au moartea ta, înger, de ce fu sa fie?
Au e sens în lume? Tu chip zâmbitor,
Trait-ai anume ca astfel sa mori?
De e sens într-asta, e-ntors si ateu,
Pe palida-ti frunte nu-i scris Dumnezeu.
(M. Eminescu, Mortua Est!)
A, da si apropo, Q stands for Queer.
Oricum, nu stiu despre voi, dar eu m-am prins demult despre ce e vorba.
