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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2008-03-25 | [Ce texte devrait être lu en english] |
Roller coaster
I’ve took myself into the bus station, wasting seconds. Shadows were tied by my shoes laces… I’ve got in the charming box swindling my back in a white chair and moving away. I could see through the glass altered performers: Others taller, others ugly, Others slighter and others smiley… The bus driver was a bloke, laughing and leading me to nowhere; he had a rusty beard like a pirate and sang with deaf sounds a song! I’ve got dizzy, the performers were moving chaotically and swiftly, the echoes were fading and I fell down like a barmy dog. Then I saw my mother’s smirk, I smelt my father’s bottle of wine, and got woozy again… Into my look, nasty, my feet got bigger, also my hands, my clothes got tear off, and the white chair started to change his colour in a rainbow perspective! Wind got diluted into my eyes, on my skin, on my hair wings – and vanished away with the sun beams, with moon’s expression, with stars’ tales. I’ve closed my eyes ... I saw nothing! I’ve opened my look and saw something – it was somewhat with round shapes, long hair, big lips and silky hands… It had a peculiar bouquet; I spent some time beyond talking with eyes, looking with mouths and sensing with our bodies – the same movie endlessly repeating was lost when the bus stopped!!! I was alone… no more driver’s beard, no more shadows, not even dizziness or other closer entity – just some ash on a chair with no colour…
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