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words carry information to an imaginary receiver |
| It is not real, nor imaginary rain that showers every time I light a cigarette; it is wet whisper on my balding roof, or a refrain that I had heard in some caffe; but it originates from certain cloud that you may see each time it rains and means my cigarette and me are out. Smoke coming from my mouth, washed away. It is a random rain but with consequent, particular umbrellas facing all clouds, nut-shelling all heads; wet ressonance of uttered words, like cantarellas which turn in spongy sentences that clog my brain. At hoc, some ash is falling on the ground, flushed away; it is a soaking rain that stirs the answers and the whys, disolves the words in sounds. Some sentences keep floating, keep still dry till silence hits as flood - and wipes the stem. Unspecified,unituitive, unuttered ultimat that do not use articulation yet. A sea of meanings that takes arm and end them. Each time it rains I light a cigarette. I am concerned about the spiders nets. Quit is an absurd. Dry is wet. |