I just realized that whenever I go to a restaurant for lunch or dinner I’m always the only person sitting alone.
Tonight, as I was sitting at a place – terrible service by the way – I suddenly had an image of someone standing outside the entrance holding a loudspeaker shouting “Come! Come Ladies And Gentlemen! Come and see this most rare and fascinating creature of which no other has ever be found in all the fathoms of our fair island! Come inside Ladies And Gentlemen, come and see the amazing Lone Diner!”
The food wasn’t great either
I dreamed yesterday.
I don’t remember the last time this happened.
I never did believe that we dream every night but don’t remember anything in the morning.
Regardless of how big the army of scientists behind such claims is.
The unremembered truth is another name for oblivion.
In the dream I saw a woman I used to know from the university.
A woman I used to fancy in what seems now like a lifetime ago.
I last saw her five years ago and she hasn’t been in my mind for about the same time.
I learned that she got married last year. Might have a kid too, the way these things often go.
In the dream we were sitting with a group of people discussing about going somewhere.
Arranging some trip.
And what was striking was that apart from her, all the others were couples.
Her and me, rather.
They perplex me these dreams.
No. Something stronger.
They irritate me.
The dreams in which people from my past appear without invitation and cause,
Performing their little stage act and then leaving as abruptly as they came
As if their sole purpose was to mock me.
I post this as a beacon
Not for others but for myself
In time it will draw in the words
From whatever hell they currently reside
And they will start rising from the darkness
Writhing like worms
“….In My Universities (1922) Gorky describes a peasant he encountered in a village near Kazan who “pictured God as a large, handsome old man, the kindly, clever master of the universe who could not conquer evil only because “He cannot be everywhere at once, too many men have been born for that. But he will succeed, you see. But I can’t understand Christ at all! He serves no purpose as far as I’m concerned. There is God and that’s enough. But now there’s another! The son, they say. So what if he’s God’s son. God isn’t dead, not that I know of’….”
“…Here was the crucial difference between the two men. When Tolstoy thought of death his mind turned to another world, while Chekhov’s always returned to this one. ‘It is frightening to become nothing’ he told his friend and publisher A.S. Suvorin in the clinic after Tolstoy left. ‘They take you to the cemetery, return home, begin drinking tea, and say hypocritical things about you. It’s ghastly to think about it’…”
Μια ζωή εξωγήινος που προσπαθεί να το παίξει άθρωπος
Last Saturday night was crap.
But the pasta was good.
Be thankful for petty pleasures
“you reach a certain age you know who you are”
That’s a lot
I mean, enough for someone’s life to change drastically.
Which is not something that happened to me.
Have a drink on me.
I’ll, er, pay you when I actually meet you in one of my future lives.
Or maybe I already did in a previous one.
Maintaining a ledger across lives is a bitch.