She said. No, strike that. Not this time. She thought to herself: everyone keeps talking about the wonders time can make. Are they right? They must be, if they all think so - and at the same time. Why then this feeling that this time they’re wrong? Maybe we live in different times. Or maybe this Time is some character that I’m just not acquainted with (s/he hangs out in different places or something. Or times.) The time I know just looks real heavy and thick, and musty, like a timeless, damp, hot jungle. Tropical nightmare full of creepy crawlies, s/he is.
Os Tempos Que Correm
Miguel Vale de Almeida1 Comentário »
Pedro escreveu em 21.March.2010 | 18:39
‘I wake up and I see the face of the devil and I ask him, “What time is it?”And he says, “How much time do you want?’ , Diamanda Galas
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