(un)polite for a reason

look at that woman carrying that basket with that salted meat. She's starring and blaming us not to help her... i can feel it and i've been trough that before. she just wanted to take advantage of our condition tor est and to seed her laziness... to feed her inertia with our kindness and expected behaviors
h, i really don't like polite people. you can never tell if they use all the thanks and sorry just with a self purpose, just to get some advantage out of it or if they are truly considering others feelings and expectations
if one is polite you buy good feelings in people.
they appreciate that conventional consideration you're having with them, without realizing you're just puting some paint in top of the creature you are.
when you go to some point when you don't have time to thank or feelings to even regret what you're doing, you are driving into your real inner, without any kind of social mutilation or degeneration.
that is why i don't mind with rudeness. i think that's why i've become a little bit rude myself... i am just chasing human behavior and being human... at least as i see it should be...

Thank you so much for your opinion b, but please excuse me: i could not disagree more
please rest a little bit, as you were riding the whole day... i will carry the salted meat of that gentile lady and come back to pick you...
really hope you don't mind

... and mind a lullaby

what a nice music you're whispering, h...

"if you kill all my demons, my angels might die too"

h, there are two sides of my mind. one of those sides sees clearly and lead me the way. it's like a sweet symphony and the way ahead its quite clear, like when you see the horizon on a dry and mild sunset.
the other side is not as clear
i remember the first day i've noticed that... i was looking at my mother washing some white shirts at the sun. the terrace was all white, and the sun was autumn pale
my mother looked happy and she was singing, she was focused on the movements of her arms and she was thinking about something... i could tell.
i also started to look at her arms, shaping the white shirt into so many different forms until she finally placed the shirt, as a plain white form, drying at the sun
she then looked at me and noticed i was thinking about what she was thinking about. she told me not to think that over, and she spoke, as always, with a wise and calm tone, and her words were my way to do, and then i stoped
it was so easy to disconnect... i just needed to be told to do it, and i switched off
but that day i keep on thinking, and i went deep into that tough. what could my mother be thinking? i was, for the first time, on a mental free ride and i discovered that, when i started thinking after being told not to do it, it was not that clear anymore
a mental free ride is always a lonely one, you can't take anyone with you, not even your mother

b, it looks that this ride of yours is getting free, and i can see a crowd in your mind
if you don't mind let's stop 5 minutes... my head is struggling for some emptyness

 

small talk

always wanted to write a book. well, indeed i've tried it several times, but i was forced to stop, h.
many times i felt pursuit by words... i could never find the right ones and, after i finished some part of the book, words just flew into my mind, and they were always perfect for the case... by far better than those i've placed in the book.
but you can't change just a word... words dance ones with others, and you need to play a tune for them all, not just for a solo dancer
I always remember a man i've met in an old house, full of smoke. he was seated watching some can-can, with an empty glass and a smell of bourbon all around him, like a halo. he was repeating the same thing over and over: he was saying paranoid repeatedly. i stared at him for a while, listening to that strange sound coming out of his halo. he looked at me without stop the murmuring...
stare or go, i thought, so i kept listening to him
after sometime the word was loosing any sense or meaning. it was just a sound. like some spiraled wind, coming in my mind.
i think he was trying to get rid of some disease by throwing the meaning out of the word. perhaps he was tired of being called something and just needed to render the word meaningless... perhaps he would live better if he didn't understand the meaning of some words

Perhaps.... he was just some paranoid, b... and i would never trust someone with a bourbon halo