the duality of 'I' and the opposite views of time |
today, I looked into a child's eyes and I cried. he had vast and green eyes. He was watching through the glass at a white world. he didn't know that the snow is melting, that nights grow and days decrease, that men lie, they talk dirty, that it is not the stork that brings children, he didn't know that they were born by their mothers in poor and decrepit hospitals. he didn't know that an hour has 60 minutes and that it passes extremely fast when you are holding a girl's hand, and neither that it passes terribly slow when an ill man is waiting for the ambulance, when a mother stays up until 4 in the morning waiting for her son to return home drunk and beaten. he didn't know that cars run fast and that breaks can brake. he didn't know that mom is not crying because of dad. he didn't know that blood flow through veins and that it's not good when it runs outside them. he didn't know. today, a child with green eyes looked into my eyes. he was laughing. he knew that I will grow up, that I will read many books, that they won't teach me how to love, he knew that I will go to Budapest, Bucharest; that I will be unconscious for 45 hours on the 25th of September '99. he knew that I will wear snickers and feeling evermore hidden. he knew about the milk and tea. he knew that I will pass my exams, I will write and I will draw a Jesus on my wall, and that I will smile conventionally. he knew that he will forget to tell me all these. and he was laughing. today, I looked into my eyes, a child, and I cried. |