Neither a Tuesday nor a Friday. Still it was the 13 of some month of a certain year, or at least it could have been, and I was new and thinking for the first…
If I were to be born on this day and had no precognition of the world, I’d with certainty say: The Sun is shy. The air is chilly. The ceiling is sad: can’t stop crying. People are pale. Nubians are pale! Women wear Cossack pants. All men have big beer bellies. Preferential treatment awaits only to those speaking any foreign language: In a world where you don’t know what the sun looks like, sunglasses are used to block the light within: People’s true colors… If I were to be born on this day and had no precognition of the world, I’d with certainty say: Waiting on the platform can be quite an adventure. Flowers are in full bloom seducing all kinds of birds and insects. If you sit still waiting for the train nobody knows when will enter the station nor which tracks will it use to make its big entrance: like a debutant in the ballroom of life. But if you sit stillest still, long enough, waiting for the train: which of course will make you wait long enough! you will undoubtedly be bugsessorized. You will be engulfed and gulped all at once by an army of flapping wings. A gigantic stomach releasing induced vomits of acid. Stings all over the legs. They always attack the legs first: The army of flapping wings. And the desperate scratching… it only rebels the more timid stingers. Now, all stung and on the verge of a nervous break down, you will realize you’ve just been around for a little while and still don’t know the miraculous benefits of cortisone: The ceiling is sad: can’t stop crying. Finally, you’re inside your train wondering how long will this ride last. Will it have great many stops? Already have the window seat. But the view isn’t always pretty. Keeps getting interrupted, now and then, by the pitch-black darkness of making way through impossibles: Pretty much straight. Pretty much all the time.
If I were to be born on a day like this and had no precognition of the world, I’d with certainty say: That are the curves the most exciting part of this ride: the bending of corners: the mystery behind. That the sun is shy and the ceiling is sad: can’t stop crying.
