Confession 2

September 13th, 2012

The pencil, the books, the exercise papers – all was given and told:
You’ll be a scientist, a scholar and a master.
Eyes shining, hands lively – betraying great expectations.
Then wishing luck, waiting for news.
I started killing a scientist, a scholar and a master. Little by little. Took the pencil and marked in the margins of empty sheets:
Do not forget to unbind the rules.
The sentence never got written. The books were cut up and the words whitened.
Eyes became angry, then sad, then lost in indifference. The hands swung still on the sides. I lost connections and did not return the calls. There was no time for degrees, encyclopedias and names, no place to occupy, but find where the laws unbind, where the rules lose their cool and start dissintegrating.
The scientist, the scholar and the master were the next person I sat close to while stretching the margins, so that the place of their inauguration would contract.
The eyes looked away. The hands wanted to slap me in despair. It was told:
You’ve wasted everything and became mad, stupid, delusional and an idiot.
And while that’s a melancholic fact, it never took a joy out of my movements.

The law will less and the rule will less more

Here is my margin right at the center.

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