Universal Truths

1) Triangular sandwiches taste better than square ones.
2) At the end of every party there is always a girl crying.3) One of the most awkward things that can happen in a pub is when your pint-to-toilet cycle gets synchronised with a complete stranger.
4) You’ve never quite sure whether it’s ok to eat green crisps.5) Everyone who grew up in the 80′s has entered the digits 55378008 into a calculator.
6) Reading when you’re drunk is horrible.7) Sharpening a pencil with a knife makes you feel really manly.
8)You’re never quite sure whether it’s against the law or not to have a fire in your back garden.10) Nobody ever dares make cup-a-soup in a bowl.
11) You never know where to look when eating a banana.12) Its impossible to describe the smell of a wet cat.
13) Prodding a fire with a stick makes you feel manly.14) Rummaging in an overgrown garden will always turn up a bouncy ball.
15) You always feel a bit scared when stroking horses.16) Everyone always remembers the day a dog ran into your school.
17) The most embarrassing thing you can do as schoolchild is to call your teacher mum or dad.18) The smaller the monkey the more it looks like it would kill you at the
first given opportunity.
19) Some days you see lots of people on crutches.20) Every bloke has at some stage while taking a pee flushed half way through and then raced against the flush.
21) Old women with mobile phones look wrong!22) Its impossible to look cool whilst picking up a Frisbee.
23) Driving through a tunnel makes you feel excited.24) You never ever run out of salt.
25) Old ladies can eat more than you think.26) You can’t respect a man who carries a dog.
27) There’s no panic like the panic you momentarily feel when you’ve got your hand or head stuck in something.28) No one knows the origins of their metal coat hangers.
29) Despite constant warning, you have never met anybody who has had their arm broken by a swan.30) The most painful household incident is wearing socks and stepping on an upturned plug.
31) People who don’t drive slam car doors too hard32) You’ve turned into your dad the day you put aside a thin piece of wood
specifically to stir paint with.
33) Everyone had an uncle who tried to steal their nose.34) Bricks are horrible to carry.
35) In every plate of chips there is a bad chip.

Arcana IX

Sta singura la masa. Sta singura in camera. In fata ei, un geam. Langa ea, vinul fierbinte si aromat. E innorat afara… Asteapta. Semnul intarzie sa apara si desi sperantele ei sunt marete, stie adanc in fiinta ei ca un miracol i-ar fi necesar ca semnul sa schimbe vremea ei innorata. Va plati vinul. Se va ridica stingand ultima tigara din pachetul pe jumatate plin (sau gol?) si va pleca. Unde? Unde apartine. Oriunde, dar nu in bratele lui… Umbra lui sobra pare ca s-a claustrat de mult acolo, refuzand culoarea, asteptand sa se stearga in neantul amintirilor a ce putea sa fie, a ce nu a fost. A ce nu e… inca?

Poate ca… mai exista credinta inocenta in minuni, undeva in sufletul copilului adancit, in zambetul amar ce-i infrumuseteaza aura in linii groase si sure. Privire fugara asternuta pe telefon. Nu. Nu suna. Nu suna…

Stie ca zambetele nu se vand. Sarutarile nu se dau pentru caritatea sufletelor. Iar sentimentele nu se schimba ca o valuta, pe un orgasm trecator; si actul imperecherii umane nu echivaleaza cu masturbarea onanica ajutata de niste organe sexuale. Stie asta. Si el stie asta. Au invatat amandoi, singuri, ca iubirea pretuieste sorocul durerii. Dar el inca sufera. El inca iubeste. O alta. Nu pe ea.

Inca o tigara stinsa. Inca o gura de vin. Inca o privire fugara risipita pe acel obiect. Functioneaza? Da. Simpla verificare de rutina. E disperata. Stie. Se simte atat de vinovata. E femeie, la naiba! O femeie ce asteapta un semn, in loc sa fuga! In orice directie – stanga, dreapta, spre el, spre casa, departe de el, departe de suferinta, spre el… Nu, nu spre el! nu… Va astepta. Si azi. Ca si ieri… Ca si maine.

Inca o tigara aprinsa. Inca o gura de vin. Dulce ameteala amara! Cartea nou cumparata asteapta pe masa, langa ea, sa fie citita. Nu? Macar rasfoita? Nu. Fonduri materiale desuete. Esente spirituale se zbenguie la aceasta masa! Veniti cu totii, va rog, aruncati un ochi pe aceasta taraba, probati o frustrare? O alta? Cumparati sentimente! Sau plecati mai departe!...

De nu s-ar mai uita!!! De ce acum? Le simte privirile… Cand sa fi rasarit cele trei siluete la masa de langa ea? De cand o cerceteaza atat de abuziv? De ce pretind ca poarta conversatii mai interesante decat deliciul inspectiei adresat ei? Nu mai conteaza!... se va intoarce spre universul ei stingher, balacindu-se in bazinul durerii surde a unei lacrimi ce sta sa cada din ochiul drept.
Se insereaza afara. Atat de repde… atat de incet… Regrete si iluzii apun si ele odata cu soarele invizibil al unei zile pribegi de iarna. Duca-se… Ma duc si eu.

Ultima tigara. Ultima gura de vin. Ma duc si eu in noapte... rece.