Fragrance (novel) [53]
Pr. Dr. Dorin Octavian Picioruș
Fragrance
(novel)
*
If you remain fallen in time, that is, in the need for love, you will look for it in all women until your wife. But if you look beyond history, you will understand that the source of happiness is God, the One who created us. And that He does not exclude your wife, but blesses the companionship with her. And that is precisely why we, christians, do not make our wives a wall, but a ladder to God, because together with them we ascend to the God of our salvation. He has released three more books, I want to read them, although the closure itself of the author has a lot of chatter. From his mouth he says, he is attractive, he learned to write on my heart, always changing the frame, the tone, the affectivity, but he is sulky at friendship. And when an author has neither in his gusset, nor up his sleeve with the friendship, he is a death mask, that it’s good that we gathered to bury him, but nothing remains.
The parentheses at parentheses are the death of live performances. Let his mouth say something, anything, but he gets lost in the details. Maybe the details catch the tireless and, sometimes, even me, when I have a special interest in listening. But the tired of so much work want syntheses, if you have a lot of thoughts. Hitchcock directed The Birds in 1963[1]. The crows remember if you’ve bullied them[2] and take revenge on you. The tree that makes crows[3], however, was cut down from the School yard, because it was beautiful and imposing. But the crows, in large flocks, headed for other slaughterhouses, where they smell and „the wolves blinking”[4]. The wolf had made a strategy with the hunter: who would eat the grandmother, who would eat Little Red Riding Hood. The witch costume is ready at the supermarket for you. Selling is synonymous with losing. And in vain they are sliced, put on carrier bag, of various kinds, if I only like the one made now, still fresh.
Bread with zacuscă[5], bread with white grapes, fasting meal. And her short haircut, together with the books she buys or receives, lead you to the certainty that the writer woman is hand in hand with the booksellers. That the publishers don’t have time to read you, they look at you like a digit of business, he said, but the editors, the proofreaders read you, in addition to those who sell you from words. They’ve multiplied too much, I can’t buy them in print anymore! I’m waiting for them to appear online or they’re sold online too. I never imagined I’d end up here, with so many, so many on my hard drives, and not have time to read them. Tens of thousands of cookies and I just choose one book, read it, then look for another among millions of books. And all so close! Right here, right next to me, right in my house, but also in everyone’s houses.
She pursed her lips in a kiss, closing those big eyes, but he pretended not to understand. And how could he not understand her desire, when it was so explicit?! Women jump fences, skip stages, leap mountains, thinking they must do everything now, on the spot, while men don’t know the drama of fighting for a relationship. That you don’t have to have it with everyone, but with the one you want. It had just rained in Edinburgh. A blue car, an old frog, was being pulled up close to a cathedral. A woman with an umbrella was passing by an intense green, and beyond this sign of vitality was an old palace, blackened by time. The two lovers, who were holding hands, turned right on the sidewalk, because they wanted to pass between the two tall buildings. And in every city there is a table where the two will eat one day and talk about their love as if it were the most important thing in the world.
In the country where dogs walk on the streets, because that’s how they like to take their siesta, it’s a country where the elderly freeze in their homes of need. The metaphors, in peacetime, are peaceful. When the psychosis worsens, the metaphors are survival. And I greeted her, she was ashamed, because she thought she was being commented on by me too. But I think the person responsible for her drama is to blame, because she was just gullible. A rape doesn’t start with you, a curious child, but with the libidinous one who takes advantage of you. The cat had entered the Church, and the person who filmed it made it sing psaltic music in its own language. The trend of hugging yourself, the one from the past, in the same picture as you, the one now, is in vogue. How to install a shower in the living room, how to make dumpling soup on a deserted island, how to plaster a room you won’t live in, how to waste time comfortably, on your couch, while you’re warm and good. The searches are among the quirkiest, and man is the one who does them. And he does them, because he can, and because they’re all very cheap. When online wasn’t infused everywhere, it was a luxury product. You had to wait a long time to log in, and if you did, you didn’t have very high standards. The profiteers sold pirated CDs on street corners. If you wanted content, you had to buy it on under the hand. And I learned to work with various programs precisely because the early years were an eldorado of possibilities. Street pornography has sexualized people’s lives, just as various toxic substances have driven them crazy with days. The nose-snorting, the intravenous injections, the sniffing aurolac, the euphoric cigarettes, the freedom as libertinism, the unemployment as social misery, the scams that have drained trust in people, the poorly implemented policies have been so many guerrilla wars with your peace. Because the novelty you experience does not necessarily mean your own good, but the good of others at your expense. And you, worker, are good until you fall ill, until we forget about you with calculated indifference. Because we need other naive, other cheap labor for our prosperity.
[1] To be seen: https://ro.wikipedia.org/wiki/Păsările_(film).
[2] Cf. https://adevarul.ro/stil-de-viata/magazin/pasarea-care-te-tine-minte-cu-anii-daca-ai-2400493.html.
[3] To be seen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7UL75Yunj_0.
[4] George Bacovia, Winter Painting, the penultimate verse, cf. https://www.romanianvoice.com/poezii/poezii/tablou.php.
[5] To be seen: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zacuscă.