Between my shadow and my soul

Of poisonous projective identifications and cathartic castrations

The paradox of Buridan's ass as Kyria Pelagia knew well enough was that there was a lack of roubola and her father's literary travails in the rum cake for the goat. Rosemary hair does not always conceal a brain that is better left where koritsimou Lemoni digs in the ground for snails and yet does not get sent to Piraeus. The day was a paradox because she realised that Antonia was the closest she would ever become to being alive and also because hate was just as misplaced as hurt. We direct them at others and they boomerang back with the velocity invertly exponentiated by Mussolini's honesty. Va fanculo is all he can say when I confront him in my mind.

Imagine having Greek and Italian blood. Imagine fleeing religious or political persecution instead of economic. Imagine.

2 shared ideas:

Azra June 10, 2009 at 9:19 PM  

Noorjehaan - I think most of us have romantic notions of what it must be like to be greek or italian. I'd want to be either...just because it sounds cool.

Another example of how some of us are just clueless to the worlds problems :P

Nooj June 13, 2009 at 12:19 AM  

well greeks are also too hairy and italians need more deodorant so romantic indeed ;)