I put myself under the aegis of the Holy encountered yesterday, I added this pronoun, and I yield my perpetual trend too long (far-fetched, do not tell) to quote my two readings out of Thursday's entry into Friday. (And too bad .... clueless dark slowly and gently)
I left the cold wrath of the people of Tahrir Square, and others, a little after midnight for dinner sas and make the night by reading "the day of the assassination of the leader" (not wanted not so much by moral sense and in light of what followed) by Naguib Mahfouz, and have closed on the beginning the story by Mohtachemi Zayid, this wonderful old man, 6 October 1981 (day, a few hours later, the death of Sadat)
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"This is another feast, as I have pointed out, falling just with this: the Feast of Victory ( anniversary of the engagement of hostilities with Israel in 1973 )
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of victory and the prison, has joked Alwan.
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No situation lasts, have I cried, with a zeal that was meant conquering the new finishes also come, no doubt!
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Really? So Vive la patience and waiting!
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A pleasant surprise in oil, Fawaz said dreamily, or the discovery of a hidden river in the desert ...
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Or the fire of a revolution, "said Alwan .....
They speak of revolution without knowing. They have heard nothing about it. The storyteller orders charged them a false story, fake ... "
And in the morning I opened the long-awaited "Fichaises" Christine Jeanney http://www.publie.net/fr/ebook/9782814504110/fichaises grouping these small texts she chased posted each morning for several months alternating "she" and "he", referring to warnings in words, in conjunction with a being a photo, opening the strange foreigner who is living in each.
There 71, each morning and discover I had become so necessary that I do not shake me after toast and honey tasting words, until the day fichaise pointing his nose on twitter . And do you know how to cite.
There is of course the one I thought identify, by far, with one more or less known to me through photography
"She ran through the city in every direction, raised his head, the blue boundary of steeples and gargoyles wise, grimacing tooth harmless.
Street names nothings told him she was listening. Saw herself in small schoolgirl skirt, looking forward to everything and hunger, greater hunger, future past it on his plate emptied, are still met, she noted, do not take umbrage. Enough for him to bend down to take, talk with his fellows, statues installed randomly controlled and then lost - it was better to lose - took reflections in the windows, followed the finger trunks branches ... "
ago, very brief, and I like this" he "(to meet the alternation)
" He argues in a hallway in the middle of others. Curves, three gliding steps, second fixed, arched, hands glued to the thighs and strained forward, trying to grasp the vacuum, turn, collapses, knees to the belly, survey, toes, hit, step sideways, and tilted hips again.
You could see him without noticing (it worked) except those who know him and know the dance of the man dancing in his head. "
ago (the photo is not good and just my reservations at random) one who plays with the usual words of malicious fantasy, but not without meaning, Christine
"She does not care about riddle quiz contest rankings best shopping sudoku letter anagrams to laugh at Genghis Khan of plant care birthdays.
She does not care about gossip hair shiny valentine tac-tac-o promotions cheap perfume hits revelations popular entertainment stars at the end of the separation roller yogurt.
She does not care about these tiny things she likes very large, those contained in the transparent tank of his vacuum cleaner: fir twigs, sands of the Sahara, particles of asteroids inevitably comets that crossed one day. "
etc. ... As like you I wish you to go see. It will cost 3.49 euros and that is the case.
And, hey, goodbye just for
"It was a shadow that span, which passed the corner of his eye, a wave form, like a silhouette cat ambush.
But was not one, no tail, no legs, just a little gray, blurring, briskly quickly lost. And he turned his head to see it, there was nothing ..... "
small PS Christine Jeanney in response to the publication of" fichaises "in their reading block: nice text http://tentatives.eklablog.fr/71-triptyques-avec -photography-on-the-utopias-the-daily-a2812704
PS PS As the basket Publie.net Friday morning was great wealth and also proposed, Baudelaire and "artificial paradises" and Michele Dujardin and "where does the earth", after a day of monitoring what was happening in Cairo and Alexandria between the World , France 24 and Al Jazeera, I entered quietly, happily, in the city, the sea, rust, etc. ... Michele Dujardin
" straight street, with the cranes at the end, the loading dock - it is on the brink, silence - shadows walking along the tracks - trains rust, Open: wind passes through them - the docks watching the empty basins - pallets per dozen, superimposed, waiting - as the docking rings, the stone is red - the smells indicate wear, melting the fairing - rails, elevators in multiples of bridges - no one knows when - where, one suspects - bananas, oranges in crates - packets of chewing gum fell from the sky - the father said, we are not animals Soldiers - hot, summer vibrates in the hand of the father - there is still " was beautiful and I think I can not really judge, I was inside.
and today I am more close to Algiers
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