We could have chosen to be ants. Pepper ants. Did you know that pepper ants just love onions? They grow tiny onions at home, in their tunnels, galleries, in their dreams too. There is nothing to stop a pepper ant once it has decided to eat an onion, big or small.
I could have been one pepper ant’s antenna, and you the other one. A tooth. An onion tooth. One day, I sliced an onion for a pizza, but inside the round white vegetable, underneath the many skin layers, there was a tooth. I wonder how it got there, who chose to be that tooth, in there, in that onion, what did it mean, etc.
It could have been Xim the Leprechaun fooling around, you know. Dropping a tooth. Oh! You don’t have to read all this what I am writing. I am trying to get away from myself, and I use words, you see? I wish I could really come up with an almost senseless sentence, as if I were a complete computer that knew all the words in the universe, in all languages, and my job was too mix them in a random fashion, for no reason, until the end of times.
“Time doesn’t end,” I hear myself say. I can be so funny. You asked me if I’m still playing the Jew’s harp. What do you think?
By the way, I now sell active volcanoes, fully insured. If I ever get wealthy, I’ll build a road made of only flowers, from here to there. To where? Ha! ha!
I could have been one pepper ant’s antenna, and you the other one. A tooth. An onion tooth. One day, I sliced an onion for a pizza, but inside the round white vegetable, underneath the many skin layers, there was a tooth. I wonder how it got there, who chose to be that tooth, in there, in that onion, what did it mean, etc.
It could have been Xim the Leprechaun fooling around, you know. Dropping a tooth. Oh! You don’t have to read all this what I am writing. I am trying to get away from myself, and I use words, you see? I wish I could really come up with an almost senseless sentence, as if I were a complete computer that knew all the words in the universe, in all languages, and my job was too mix them in a random fashion, for no reason, until the end of times.
“Time doesn’t end,” I hear myself say. I can be so funny. You asked me if I’m still playing the Jew’s harp. What do you think?
By the way, I now sell active volcanoes, fully insured. If I ever get wealthy, I’ll build a road made of only flowers, from here to there. To where? Ha! ha!
::: ::: :::
[Picture: Fresh onions by reading_is_dangerous]
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