One More Cup of Cofee

Andaa doarme. Am adormit-o la telefon, i-am ascultat respiratia agitata, cred ca zicea ceva in somn ce nu am inteles prea bine. I-am cantat de leagan si i-am rostit incet de tot cat de mult o iubesc, ce inseamna ea pentru mine. Un happening cu cor antic, glossolalie si basm. Realitatea este mai cruda decat fictiunea. Fara legatura mi-a trecut prin cap stirea de ora 5 de azi cu batranul violator al nepoatei pe care o lasase insarcinata. Nepoata care, de fapt, ii era fiica, pentru ca era nascuta de propria lui fiica pe care o lasase insarcinata in urma unui viol anterior. Astea sunt malformatile unei lumi atinse de cancer. Mutantii realitatii. Alte concepte…

Andaa mi-a propus sa facem saptamana asta, spre final, o partuza. Sex in grup, adica. Eu am zis da pentru ca zic mereu da la ce imi cere ea asa cum si ea zice mereu da la ce ii cer eu. O sa facem, baby. Singura perversiune va fi lenjeria alba pe care i-o voi cumpara chiar maine. Ii voi saruta sexul prin dantela, voi sta cu obrazul lipit de pubisul ei. Nu stiu cine va participa si nu am deloc trac chiar daca ar fi prima oara pentru mine. Mi-as dori sa vina Simona, o prietena veche de-a ei, o fata frumoasa si superficiala. Are gingasia specifica unei partenere minunate de sex in grup. Poate si pustiul care a sunat-o din toaleta restaurantului ca sa-i ramana numarul pe mobil, iar ea sa-l caute cand I se face pofta de sex. E mai complicat dar nu prea am acum chef sa povestesc. Aia da perversiune. Fireste ca Andaa a avut chef si s-a dus. Si-au tras-o o data si gata, ea si-a scuturat cositele si a plecat. Normal ca nu mai scapa de el acum….

Da, este fictiune. Nu te mai uita asa! Ce crezi ca poti descoperi aici ? Pe tine?  o gramada dintre cunostintele Andei stiu ca ea scrie si ca despre ea se scrie. Ei acum citesc si se oglindesc. Sa-mi aduceti aminte sa sterg paragraful asta. Este o tampenie.

Andaa a tipat la meci, apoi a fost trista. Sunt obosita. Am obosit. Nu ma mai iubi asa de mult. A iesit la terasa si a baut 4 cafele si 200 de grame de cognac. Cand isi aduce aminte de catelusa ei incepe sa urasca. Pe ei, pe ea si, fireste, pe mine. Eu sunt ea. Doamne, baby cat de mult te iubesc. Bebeloi, te iubesc de crap. Ce mai e si asta ? Ce-mi faci tu mie ? Te iubesc. Firesc. Te iubesc firesc. Am intrebat-o ce ar alege daca variantele ar fi: reusesti sa te muti la Bucuresti sau se intoarce Pantera acasa? A tipat la mine, a gemut apoi si s-a culcat. Eu i-am cantat de leagan si i-am povestit cat de mult o iubesc pana a adormit.

One More Cup of Cofee  Bob Dylan

30 thoughts on “One More Cup of Cofee

  1. cafeaua aia zau de nu m-omoara, yet the cancer does it so much more…organic. pana la urma fericirea e garnitura de pe masa, iar durerea, fie ea si a sexului in grup :) ), e felul princpial, n’est’ce pas?adame?

  2. Oau.

    Adaam sau puterea obisnuintei. Sau poate ca nu e asa absolut deloc.
    Cert este ca as alege prima varianta. Si nu este ziua cartitei…

  3. what about two, my lovely lumsa?:) pantera e un om.

    vollard, andaa a tinut sa-ti raspunda ea la comentariu. nu stiu de ce. cred ca te place:) are voie azi.

    bebe, eu merg pe varianta malahica, in cazul asta. azi iti voi da o proba de puterea obisnuintei. precis voi auzi un chitait venit de la rasarit. ba nu. doua. ba nu. trei. ba nu. patru. sa ma ia dracu daca pricep unde tii atat de multi soareci si cu ce-i hranesti…:) oare cu iluzii??? bebe a mea iubita si curtata de toata constanta si imprejurimile…

  4. va invit pe toti la menuet, tango si canasta. azi nu ies din casa. sunt disponibil la iubit si gargara si am nevoie de maini moarte care sa ma scarpine in cap.

    semnat

  5. na ca e si in blogroll andaa a ta. merita. sa te pun si pe tine? mai bine lasa, ca se prinde lumea daca are un pic de “creer”

  6. keffie, as putea spune ca habar nu ai despre ce vorbesti dar iti spun ma bucur ca ma citesti. a dracu’ rima… mi-a iesit.

    alex, o voi, multumesc.

  7. ba m-am gandit – pot sa ma leg la ambii, nu doar unul, cu conditia sa ma conduci tu. o sa fac o exceptie si voi avea incredre totala in tine. ma voi lega la ochi si voi astepta sa vad unde poate duce “dansul” asta. cu toate ca prefer alte ritmuri menuetului.
    vreua sa vad daca ma pot lasa sa cad pe spate, complet confident ca ma vei prinde, ca nu ma vei lasa sa ma fac praf – creieri si toata molusca testei intinsa pe asfalt. nu mai am incredre in oameni. nici nu stiu daca am avut vreodata. am vrut, am incercat. rahat. i mean, rahat a iesit. :) nu este rasul meu, adame! nici macar nu glumesc azi.
    as prefera… – depeche mode / the world in my eyes
    “let me take you on a trip around the world and back and you wont have to move, you just sit still … let my show you the world in my eyes.. nothing more than you can feel now, that’s all there is”
    sau as prefera ce ascult acum, over and over… tot domul dave “only when i lose myself. … a new song i’ve discovered recently on one blog – monoloage’s. it still fucking hurts. pain. pain. thank god for pain. i must have it. as a drug. continually yearning for that high. yet, at some point you don’t need it to get high anymore, but TO NOT GET SICK, ILL – really ill. do you understand? it makes so much sense, it freaks me out.
    “it’s only when i lose myself in someone else that i find myself”. and thank god for those who can put feelings in words, in rhymes, in poems. it’s so relieving to see it in others, yet i’m looking in peopel’s eyes and see nothing, see no pain. where does everybody hide it? eyes… it’s what i love the most in people. i still look in their eyes hoping to “see” eveything they are, things they feel. i am such an idiot, i hate myself.
    i don’t veen know who the hell you are – would i rather trust you than someone i know, i love? YES! know why? because then I’ll be fine with being dropped by some stranger, rather than someone that has me in the palm of their hand… and squashes me till i become bloddy matter and drip allover the place, in dirt. i wish i was eurydice and my orpheus would come all the way to hell after me… yeah, right. how;s that for love ? huh????? love is not the answer, my dear. ithought about it a lot. it’s NOT love, but the passion for lost, deceiving, imagined, never reached love – in other words, the passion for wht love should be! that’s what builds this passion, this is what makes it unbearable, so painful it gives us reason to exist… reason to hurt. pain is fucknig good. without it you are a plant, or a rock. damn it.
    i swear to god i was ok an hour ago. i don’t know what the hell is going on. these trips go so quick now. now i’m here, next minute i’m in limbo, next in heaven. and if this is the way to that weird “house”, gosh, i won’t even know it happened…
    to this i’m toasting with you, my dear stranger – to love! actually: to what we want love to be… but it always fails to be! because the idiots before us made up all these stories, all these myths in which love is so perfect, so godly, we, stupid dieing people can’t reach it.
    let’s drink to this, adaam. :) just you and i, in the middle of nowhere, where we can never meet. two imaginary people in two different worlds.
    next time don’t invite me to dance!!! this is what happens… or better yet, don’t invite me to tie my eyes – i’ll say stupid things with words, trying to compensate the fact that i’m uneasy, blind…
    shut me up already

  8. what can i do, stelarus? sometimes it’s overwhelming and i just let myself go…
    sorry.
    how are you?

  9. fine, thank you. may i suggets you to call your boyfriend and let it go instead of polishing your nails on that computer keyboard trying to release your energy?

  10. let me cheer you up, guys!

    Poppies in October

    (Sylvia Plath)

    Even the sun-clouds this morning cannot manage such skirts.
    Nor the woman in the ambulance
    Whose red heart blooms through her coat so astoundingly —

    A gift, a love gift
    Utterly unasked for
    By a sky

    Palely and flamily
    Igniting its carbon monoxides, by eyes
    Dulled to a halt under bowlers.

    O my God, what am I
    That these late mouths should cry open
    In a forest of frost, in a dawn of cornflowers

  11. adaam, is this cheering us up??? are you sure?
    stelarus, you may suggest anything… it’s nothing about boyfriends, though – it’s about people. i’m not releasing energy – i’m trying to gather it. :) it’s a trade!

  12. “i’ll say stupid things with words, trying to compensate the fact that i’m uneasy, blind…
    shut me up already”

    This is not gathering, lumsa. This is screaming in silence. that’s whyi suggested a cure. if you were offended, then is my fault. But for sure is not gathering, neither energy neither anything/.

  13. Sylvia Plath pe retina ta sa fie adame?n-as fi crezut ca mai intalnesc un nevrotic prin mrejele netului…them poppies gather in jully to gossip and in october to spit..merg pe miza ta si plusez cu un Lady Lazarus si un Dylan Thomas – “And death shall have no dominion”… cati asi ai in mana adame?

  14. esti un labagiu notoriu dar scrii bine.plus ca sunt gelos pe relatia ta cu andaa.narcisista mica ce esti.andaa cea cu doua personalitati.doar ca una are pula iar una pizda

  15. pai si atunci ce fac, stelarus? ma bag si eu la poker-ul baietilor de mai sus? …sa pierd totul sau nimic? pot deschide cu un pumn de nisip din ultima clepsidra, nu voi spune pas niciodata, voi plusa din simt de primejdie si voi plati intptdeauna ma mult decat trebuie. nici macar maneci nu am…
    *l-am gasit pe utub. suna tare misto. :) imi place cum imi ridici tu moalul… oricum, azi parca si tu esti picat in hau… sau mi se pare?

  16. Nah lumsa, cand plusezi cu teama se citeste in ochi si in tremuratul buzelor. asta apropo de poker. si nu e o solutie sa iti ascunzi ochii in spatele unor ochelari negrii de soare. Just rise and shine, my dear. in any way you want

  17. stelarus,
    imi vine sa-ti fac o dedicatie astrala, sa-ti inchin o noua constelatie… dar sunt atat de nepriceputa la cosmologia aplicata si arta divina. nu as plusa cu teama, ci din necesitatea de a fi inconstienta si a-mi ridica la maximum nivelul de adrenalina… fara de care as fi un om pierdut. inconstienta este steaua nordului in micul meu cosmos – fara ea cred ca nici n-as putea exista.
    :)

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