t sounds in the inside of his head, a replica of his outer voice. It tells him the most far-fetched things: “It’s weird. Everyone knows and says money pulls, pushes, restricts and opens doors. But it’s always thought of as something imposed from the outside: society or epoch. Few see it as an internal imposition. Amassed for generations. A calling that bristles your nape hair. Almost irresistible.”
t started slowly to move. Obviously, I didn´t believe it at first … but yes, it was walking. I mean the cockroach. I froze so frozen I immobilized it. It stood looking at me for a while and then jumped. I mean, it was still hair. It was my hair with little legs (of hair) walking, with little eyes (of hair) staring.
lue. Contouring my body. Blue in a dream, a dream in which we take hands. I wish I could remember it all, but there’s only flashes, ripped images seemingly disconnected. I know, only I don’t remember. I just feel you, as if this were the dream and we were sleeping together. Like a scent that penetrates this life from somewhere else.
t occurred to me once or twice (it’s occurring to me quite often lately) that I get an idea of having thought of doing something and suddenly not remembering if I did it or not. It can be the most stupid thing, for example the other night I was having a shower and shaving my legs. My idea had been to shave my armpits first only I couldn’t remember if I had. I hadn’t… unexpectedly, the image comes to my head: the armpit, the razor, my hand passing it over … that’s it. My doubt is if the image that came to my head was a memory or a pure mind action that would replace the physical one. Because my armpit was hairless then and I, at the moment of not being sure of having done it, I was pretty not sure, almost certain.
I wish I could get deeply into the subject, start to experiment a little. But then something makes me forget, makes it an unimportant subject (as if a topic like that could become an unimportant one, the possibility of making our thoughts become action, with no physical mediation).
Touch is nice,” she says, trying to diminish the impact of the lack.