100 years old grandmother. there she sat at the head of the table, surrounded by her family choking on food, silent and totally expressionless. I looked with a cigarette hand, sitting across the huge table. knew exactly what he thought, his dull eyes of old massacre I said it, I shouted it in the ear and made fun of me as the fugitive mocks the weak fool who see him away to freedom. Grandma did not move, just waiting for everyone to go to his house and could return to TV, where comfort, saw the decline of the world. Grandma could not wait to die, the world was becoming worse. I was also aware of how everything went to hell, who cares? I said, the life of a young man is full of garbage, there were worse things to worry about and one can not put too philosophical when one is not able integrated into the social dynamics. who cares? I would have liked to tell the grandmother to stop being so happy to escape the sinking ship. "Damn grandmother" I thought, as I watched her, giving small puffs of my cigarette, with some idiot cousin telling a story for a story. "You should write about this" always told me, and I went and did. the other day, arrived the same idiot cousin and said "write about horses going to the big city to find his mother" I did, I wrote a huge story about horses, over 500 pages about horses, the big city his mother. I went home on Monday afternoon. "Here is" I announced and pulled the pile of leaves in front of him, "tell me what you think" I asked and sat down to wait for him to read, he saw the big bang theory, "a bit" I said sorry for suggesting such a rich topic, I made a noise, demonstrated the enormous contempt he had, I waited in vain to learn from his mistake, I got up and went to my house to feel the great emptiness I have inside, which I suspect is filled with a little girl just because it's the only thing I lack, I am what I say is pathetic in my moments of self-flagellation, then get comfortable, I'm not going anywhere, I answer, realizing that the only escape is the bullet from a gun or on the 20th floor of a building and knowing what enough to know that everything would stay the same and still clinging to that immortal hope that everything can improve tomorrow. I suggested an idea now of a chameleon who can control the blacks, "great" answer in 50 words "cool" and saw the grandmother would be dead soon. I had to worry about sex and loneliness and to find work and not to become a tramp and that my life becomes more unbearable than it already is. "If he wanted to hear someone complain all the time, I would record myself" someone once told me, I remained silent and watched away, but hey, there is no excuse or cure for that bad habit. Grandma may be happier now as close to nothing everything has to seem less unbearable. surrounded by family without grace, all just there, taking up space. While the grandmother lived until she married and had children and her sisters had children and all those children had children and one day, because they could not hang out with anyone else, I suppose, to get and came together in my grandmother's house. her husband, my grandfather, a son of the old-fashioned cock, which placed the woman just down the dogs, never paid any attention and only used it to fuck up their genitals were dried and then served as a recipient of fuck her demented elderly. died one day the happiest day in the life of my grandmother. learned that death is the answer is the escape of a life without imagination or courage, or anything to offer, the eject button on this planet full of useless nothing funny and a world, as she well could see on TV, that every day goes to hell a world where it is acceptable to get rid of stuff just to make room for things ugly and noisy and without any charm, a place for advertising and shopping centers. this was overflowing with the mind of my grandmother. I watched, knowing, with a cigarette in my hand, I sitting in style with a dick in my hand, with a family full of cake, my life would be exactly like hers, would go unnoticed by the world as the idiot incapable small Bourgeois was cowardly and unimaginative. "Congratulations, Grandma, congratulations!" fantasized about screaming in the face while extinguished my cigarette, took my jacket and went outside to continue another 60 years.
0 comments:
Post a Comment