Found this a few years ago while doing the disk cleanup
(obviously not of a recent date)
8 Acts
1 Act of sneezing (resembling a prayer)
2 Act of begging for love (with a certain amount of pride)
I’m not a strawberry, sweet and delicious, pretty little fruit,
your favorite one, to taste slowly only in May
I’m not a rug, even though I lay me down sometimes
I like when we play, but to notice your predictability,
that you’d seem detached when I throw a little ball at you,
and jump on me when my attention turns somewhere else
what a chore, what a disappointment
I know I can be such a pain sometimes,
but please don’t pick little tasty strawberries just because
Once there was this creature, loved late in the evening
after a busy day at work, planning a holocaust
so sometimes I think to myself,
if that was possible on earth
maybe I’d be really loved too
in any given month of the year
3 Act of clapping (applause)
Bodies felt discomfort, then relief and everyone felt better because they thought that their hands precisely had clapped the hardest
4 Act of searching for an exit
I don’t know which water is okay for me to drink because bottled is wrong and non-bottled is wrong too and I don’t know how I can differ right from wrong when sickness tastes like heaven and health tastes like sickness and I don’t know if change is really possible for me if I can’t change memories of myself and anything I have done before and I don’t know which water is okay for me and I don’t know what I want and I don’t know how to avoid dilemma and I don’t know how one can relax in one’s body when it definitely isn’t a temple nor a machine and I don’t know how to change my body parts so they can function better for me to function better and produce better things and build new temples I don’t know which water is okay for me to drink because bottled is wrong and non-bottled is wrong too and I don’t know how to live with the end of the world on my back and I don’t know how I can have a beginning if I already have the end on my back and I don’t know how not to doubt anything as much as I doubt myself and I don’t know how I can decide when my cells go in pairs one right and one wrong and one solid and one fluid and one dynamic and one static and one for me and one against me I don’t know how I can live with the end of the world on my back and I desire to be a machine
5 Act of moving
Physical work equals tougher dance
Simplification and reminiscence of
one’s forgotten body
A vague line between head’s command and a capricious motion of upper and lower limbs
Yesterday I was a body I danced the work away
6 Act of walking around anxiously
Pigeon sex lasts extremely short approximately nine seconds, approximately as long as you need to stir up your coffee
Afterwards, they pretend to ignore each other in a very similar way to humans
7 Act of going home (embracing atavistic sensations)
I’ve never been there, but I’ll go
I love coming back to places I’ve never been before
unknown = familiar
Memories of what I haven’t maybe experienced indeed hints of familiar in the unknown
are the best memories I’ve ever had
8 Act of letting yourself rely on
Once I came back from the North Pole with two left footed sandals in my bag
How many times have you heard them say Jerry is a bit dull, but still a nice person? Well, I haven’t cause I don’t know anyone named Jerry. But, forget about the good, the bad and the ugly and focus on the four main criteria that you really should pay attention to: funny, boring, can be trusted and can’t be trusted.
Let’s start with the worst-case scenario – you don’t trust ‘em and you find ’em boring. What are you waiting for? Run for dear life.
You don’t trust ’em but you find ’em funny. Well, have fun! Stay and fool around as long as you want, but don’t get surprised if something gets fishy and it’s not that month-old tuna sandwich left to rot in your handbag.
The most tricky one – you generally trust ’em but you find ’em boring. this could be ball ‘n’ chain camouflaged in a story of mutual understanding. Who needs laughter when you can feel safe tonight? Well, everyone but you.
Don’t be a blockhead, this could easily drag you down.
And if you trust ’em and find ’em funny, stay forever cause you might have found a pot of gold. Lay back and relax… and hope to find yourself in someone’s first quadrant, too.
Briscola (Briškula) is an Italian (2-8 players) card game. A deck consists of forty cards, divided into four suits: coins, swords, cups and clubs. As I’m very fond of playing cards’ aesthetics in general, I’ve made these 8 Briscola cards a few years ago and the idea was to make the whole deck suitable for playing, so I hope to finish it sometimes. The whole culture of playing cards at the seaside evening-gatherings in someone’s backyard, with a bottle of wine and loads of tricks, curse words and laughter is something that I find really nice and amusing.