imanamanai: privire in gradina interzisa

luni, 16 august 2010

privire in gradina interzisa

am aruncat o privire in interior si am vazut ca intotdeauna e ceva mai mult acolo, ceva ce nu-ti poti imagina, ceva ce depaseste asteptarile, ceva ce te surprinde atat de tare incat vrei sa te uiti inca o data si sa vezi mai mult si mai mult si mai mult.
ne mintim.
aruncam in gradina ca intr-o debara incuiata tot ceea ce nu putem cuprinde cu mintea intr-un moment anume al vietii. aruncam oameni cu starile lor pe care nu le putem intelege, aruncam clipe prea puternice sa le putem ingurgita, aruncam sentimente de ura, frustrare, durere , aruncam speranta, aruncam pacea, aruncam linistea, aruncam iubire.
tot ce aruncam in gradina ia .... o forma iar oamenii raman ca o hartie de calc. aleile gradinii sunt pline de oameni transparenti si forme nedefinite care se plimba aiurea .

cateodata gradina se zguduie si zidul se crapa. atunci, prin crapatura formele si oamenii sunt trasi afara si devin materie vascoasa care invaluie mintea si impaienjeneste ochii .

ce-ar fi sa
faceti curat si sa reparati crapaturile ?
fara frica

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Alice: But I don't want to go among mad people.

The Cat: Oh, you can't help that. We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad.

Alice: How do you know I'm mad?

The Cat: You must be. Or you wouldn't have come here.

Alice: And how do you know that you're mad?

The Cat: To begin with, a dog's not mad. You grant that?

Alice: I suppose so

The Cat: Well, then, you see, a dog growls when it's angry, and wags its tail when it's pleased. Now I growl when I'm pleased, and wag my tail when I'm angry. Therefore I'm mad.

If you shut your eyes and are a lucky one, you may see at times a shapeless pool of lovely pale colours suspended in the darkness; then if you squeeze your eyes tighter, the pool begins to take shape, and the colours become so vivid that with another squeeze they must go on fire. But just before they go on fire you see the lagoon. This is the nearest you ever get to it on the mainland, just one heavenly moment; if there could be two moments you might see the surf and hear the mermaids singing. The children often spent long summer days on this lagoon, swimming or floating most of the time, playing the mermaid games in the water, and so forth. You must not think from this that the mermaids were on friendly terms with them: on the contrary, it was among Wendy’s lasting regrets that all the time she was on the island she never had a civil word from one of them. When she stole softly to the edge of the lagoon she might see them by the score, especially on Marooners’ Rock, where they loved to bask, combing out their hair in a lazy way that quite irritated her; or she might even swim, on tiptoe as it were, to within a yard of them, but then they saw her and dived, probably splashing her with their tails, not by accident, but intentionally.