Disco

Disco

I’ve just forgotten thus ignored

that slow motion whiplash

that probes the vaults

that holds back crossing

that space

that sums up 

that confusion of 

that underwater movement of

that black mane swinging between a yes and a no

under the strobe light

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WTF poll #1

WTF poll #1

Welcome to this brand new series of WTFpoll. A non-sense poll that makes no sense whatsoever.
Today’s poll reads: “Who could have won the United States presidential election of 2016?”

#WTFpoll

Our symmetrical PA

Our symmetrical PA

She is very efficient and helps us with the endless queries we receive every day, dispatching worldwide our advice on love matters, business conduct, social etiquette and table manners.

She brings us a continuous supply of dark, smoking coffee during the day to keep us awake, oil the cogs of our minds, fuel our imagination and empathy towards our fellowship.

Perfectly symmetrical both in space and time, she finds particularly easy to walk in a perfectly straight line from any two given points, just like the literal application of a geometry theorem.

In the many years we’ve known her, we’ve never noticed any deviation from her rectilinear travel, for example trying to avoid bumping into walls or colliding into furniture, rather invariably witnessing her entrance into our room as if she was hovering on her feet, in an impeccable straight line as if to indicate the mechanical ruthless willpower of an ice-cutter, crossing at a right angle the molten archipelago of icebergs in our equator, the meridian intersecting the threshold of our mental territory.

We often think that her symmetry maybe suspect and perhaps being the product of our minds, if she were to unpredictably and abruptly change her trajectory, she would separate into two mirror images traveling in opposite directions, bidding each other farewell until they meet in our room again after completing their full round circle around the globe.

But we soon dismiss this theory purely out of fear of a longer than necessary wait for her presence to grace our office, for our cups to be refilled of coffee, for us to stare at her slowly crossing our space, holding a tray firmly with her slim but steady arms while enigmatically beaming a smile somewhere above and beyond our heads.

And because of this longing for a womanly presence albeit illusory and transient we keep finding all possible justifications for her existence in real life.