“I’ll be frank. I’ve always felt that it’s horrible to send a person into the world who didn’t ask to be there.” “I know,” Alain said. “Look around you. Of all the people you see, no one is here by his own wish. Of course, what I just said is the most banal truth there is. So banal, and so basic, that we’ve stopped seeing it and hearing it.” -- The Apologizer, By Milan Kundera The New Yorker Magazine
"...But as the go game progresses the possibility becomes smaller and smaller, the board does take an order. Soon all the moves are predictable , so so, so maybe, even though we are not sophisticated enough to be aware of it, there is a pattern and order, underlying every go game, maybe that pattern is like the patter in the stock market, the torah, this 216 number thi thi this is insanity Max , or maybe is genius … I HAVE TO GET THAT NUMBER , hold on you have to slow down you’re loosen it, you have to take a breath, listen to yourself you’re connecting a computer bug I had, with a computer bug you might have had and some religious house, you want to find the number 216 in the world you will be able to find everywhere; 216 steps form your street corner to your front door, 216 second you spend ridining in the elevator, because when your mind becomes obsess with anything you will fill everything out and find it everywhere, 220, 450, 22 whatever, you have chosen 216 and yo...
Toco tu boca, con un dedo toco el borde de tu boca, voy dibujándola como si saliera de mi mano, como si por primera vez tu boca se entreabriera, y me basta cerrar los ojos para deshacerlo todo y recomenzar, hago nacer cada vez la boca que deseo, la boca que mi mano elige y te dibuja en la cara, una boca elegida entre todas, con soberana libertad elegida por mí para dibujarla con mi mano por tu cara, y que por un azar que no busco comprender coincide exactamente con tu boca que sonríe por debajo de la que mi mano te dibuja. Me miras, de cerca me miras, cada vez más de cerca y entonces jugamos al cíclope, nos miramos cada vez más de cerca y nuestros ojos se agrandan, se acercan entre sí, se superponen y los cíclopes se miran, respirando confundidos, las bocas se encuentran y luchan tibiamente, mordiéndose con los labios, apoyando apenas la lengua en los dientes, jugando en sus recintos donde un aire pesado va y viene con un perfume viejo y un silencio. Entonces mis manos bus...
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