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Imi pare rau ca nu pot fi cu tine cand dormi... si imi pare rau ca arat asa putin. Imi pare rau.
Te iubesc, sa stii. Mereu am facut-o, si cand nu ne cunosteam, si daca nu ne cunoastem. Mereu ti-am stiut demonii, iar tu pe ai mei. Imi place ca atunci cand eram mici, nu iti dai seama... dar vorbeam. Da, chiar noi doi.
Imi e dor de tine. Si de tobogan. Si de scranciob.
Parca as vrea sa ma lasi sa imi vad de viata.
Dar parca n-as vrea... adica esti singurul lucru constant.
Faptul ca existi. Te admir pentru asta. Ce daca nu ai ales sa fii constient?
De ce ai pune asa multa valoare pe lucrurile constientizate?
Pana la urma, tot tragi adanc aer in piept si iti dai seama ce frumos e automatismul respirator.
Ar trebui sa facem asta cu existenta.
Imi e dor sa ma asculti asa. Stai la mine in poala si mori oleaca, fiind cu mine... sa nu ne mai desprindem niciodata.
Mori si tu, mor si eu... ramane ceva la fel? Inca suntem.

Drumul din piata spre casa...23 de metri, de doua ori pe zi.
I-am stat in poala si am murit acolo. Si ca sa fiu intreg, acolo merg. Il iau cu mine. Pe tot. Si pe toti oamenii care il batatoresc. Si pe tine.
Te iubesc pentru ca existi.

Existi pentru ca.

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