Fire (walk with me!)

I am dreaming thirstily of water, a glass, a bucket, a non-existent plentiful. I am waking up early in the morning, hit in the head with hangover like headache, and swirl around like I have a purpose at 7 am. Nope! Though luck. I drain the leftover orange juice from its box. Twice. Unsatisfactory. I am roaming some more, and find some stale cola. That'll do too. Nope. My adversity to tap water is well known, the traces it leaves on face are the scars of a long fought war. Tap water is winning. I am boiling the water, to make some Indian aromatic tea. Still thirsty? Yeap. Coffee anyone? So later I lay in the bath tub. I am so thirsty my lips literally crack at the corner. I am laying in the bath and plan to write about this thirst in Romanian. I fill the bath tub three times. All the liquid I have had by now, wants out. In between, a new exercise: push my heals against the tub walls, then relax, my legs are slightly suspended in the liquid, then as the liquid swirls out, I gradually feel the water adherence, pressure, I am a drop in the ocean, but when everybody goes, I will still stay, because I am not the ocean.

Then, you wake up, and I am thinking you are funny, it's a lovely morning, so I wrap myself around you. Unfortunately it is still early and you are getting neurotic. And we are having an argument about cleaning or not cleaning the house. We are spitting things at each other like two cobras, where is this coming from? I wonder. Before you start moving things and throwing them to make deliberate stomp noises there is a pause with threatening sickening silence. There is a lot of filth now on our things and we don't want to pull this shit together.

Life is a tautological recurrent routine sometimes covered in a delicious icing sprinkled with events. Few buyers want to go deeper than that.