I am 33. I lived past 30.
I'm a dissapointment for a legion of worms.
The first one is a glimpse of my home town.
The second one is about regaining the innocence of childhood.
Reminded today of a poem by the greatest poet born in my home town.
Decorated bourgeois women
Pass in crystal carriages -
An eternal to-and-froing,
A hubbub of millionaires ...
And sentimentally violins
Moan on public terraces ...
There's perfume and bon-bons,
And a brothel dissolution ...
... But the proletarian philosopher
Notes in the book of the times :
Strikes, blood, insanity,
I didn't. I'm still not married.
I found online an american friend I haven't spoken to since 2002. His first question was: "Hey, Alex! Are you still a commie?"
How ideology flies!