Ăsta e un textuleţ pe care l-am scris în Decembrie, întorcîndu-mă din prima “excursie” în Stavanger, în “pauza” de 9 (nouă) ore petrecută în München, în aeroport.
Nu cred că are vreun rost să încerc să descriu prea în detaliu “plăcerea” de a pierde atîta amar de vreme într-un loc în care oricît de mult te-ai strădui – îm maxim 2 ore ai cam epuizat tot ce era de văzut şi de făcut. Cert e că nu e deloc plăcut şi nu vreau să repet curînd experienţa….
Probabil singurul lucru bun în astfel de cazuri sînt tocmai căderile astea în visare, momentele alea în care imaginaţia o ia razna şi-ncepi să te vezi acolo unde n-ai fost niciodată (dar unde cel mai probabil ţi-ar fi plăcut cel mai mult să fi putut fi), momentele alea în care te simţi complet rupt de tot şi de toate, singur cu ale tale şi de nimeni băgat în seama.
Iată textul:
I’ve never felt a weirder display of loneliness, desire, helplessness and need at the same time; looking around me – only sad, unfamiliar faces, each and every one of them searching inside itself, looking for something that’s never been there, as if there is no better time to dive into yourself than when on a half-deserted airport, far away from everything you know and love, anything that might, at some extent, understand you; a few minutes ago, passing by the smoking lounge – my eyes caught sight of a big ad (only later on I understood it was for cigarettes), a big ad showing two girls, one guy, all on the deck of some fancy cruiser or such, all happy, all smiling, all half naked; and the sight of one of the girls’ feet instantly sent me away, to a different world, a world I’d forgotten about, a world of its own, where my woman had long legs, beautiful toes, black hair and eyes, incredibly white teeth and a smile as never to be seen again; I suddenly had a glimpse of the days we once shared together, I somehow even felt her nakedness touching me – and still – I cannot understand why we never actually made love to each other, why it was always only games, only teasing desire, only touching and tasting of one another’s bits; and then I came back; sad, unfamiliar faces, never attracting each other, each in its own corner, black leather chairs under them, monitors showing something nobody watched, empty tables and the feeling of helplessness…
Şi nu ştiu de ce acuma, recitind, îmi vin în minte oarece vorbe de-ale lui Jim:
Could any hell be more horrible than now, and real?
L.E.: Here’s a photo of the above mentioned ad, taken during my last “visit” to the Munich airport.
there's someone in my head - but it's not me 
