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WHERE NO WIND BLOWS...

I LOVE WORDS

I like words so much that I had to learn a new language to double them up, so that I could write each one not once but twice. Hundreds of words,  like  people reflected in a distorted mirror, where a big man sees himself thin and a skinny woman sees herself fat. With words it was just the same, some became very long in the other language, others became shorter. It was good to have such an infinite variety. I imagined them all locked up in shining little boxes. Each word with its reflexed image. One in gold and the other one in silver. One long and the other one short. One all curled up in the shape of a half moon, the other one sitting flat in the middle. Always happy to be together. It didn't matter how big or small they were. They would always fit in the little box together, forming different shapes in a long DNA chain as strong as steel, climbing up all the way to the moon whenever I opened the little box. I could see myself walking each step till I reached the silver desert where no wind blows and no flag waves.

DONNA YO-YO AND THE CHOCOLATE BUNNY

I am like a chocolate bunny, those that split in the middle, and one day I will split open while I am walking down the road: half of me going in one direction and the other half in the opposite one.
There is no story to tell. It's the same chaotic mass of erratic events, repetitive,  daily life, occasional sparkles, relatively rare fires, lots of ashes, destruction, silence, deadness, darkness. You can change the order and put 'fire' before 'silence' or 'silence' after 'fire but where is the story? Someone give me a story!

Donna yo-yo lived inside a universal roller coaster where present, past and future were no different and all rolled into one big lombrigo whose head and tail were difficult to distinguish from, like one of those underground trains that have a driver seat at each end so they can go in opposite directions.  The story was inside her head desperately trying to get out and paint a beautiful picture on the shiny, blank wall that was her life.

How do you go from A to B asked the girl sitting on the bus to the woman traveling with her in a sultry summer night. The heavy polluted air blowing through the window slot flattened hair hair gently forming a little white dot on her head. Donna Yo-yo could see her white skin exposed to unfamiliar eyes, showing all its vulnerability. The wind stopped and the fine brown hair went back where it was covering her head completely. The woman sitting next to the girl opened her lips disclosing white pearly teeth, perfectly lined up in her mouth. This happened yesterday but it could have been tomorrow...

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