Monday, August 30, 2004

all day long oracle

Paul Auster's Oracle Night strikes you with a net of stories within stories. Where do the ties touch, mingle so profoundly...
All writers' universe, to the tiniest details. A rescued character from one of the within stories can't live his destiny as a future watcher, seeing yet to come deceiving from a loved one. Future sometimes kills you, just the sight of it, the anticipation of its odour and touch, of how we could manage a situation that we have to believe we control.

Always hated the traditionally viewed such as male/female speech. Horrendous thing.
Taking a second look, though, I found myself prejudiced when it comes to women, usually disliking their company, boring myself to death in dinner parties where men gently put me in my gender place, making conversation (errrr...) with my alike species. Well, we reached the point now...One could say, you certainly know women who don't fit in those stereotypes. Sure I do. Few. So I am basically a female machista chauvinist, a pig (being the latter an appropriate definition). So we're there again. Concern about weight, as well as a google search in the meantime, being the key words "eye makeup"...
I sure have to recognize biological differences, in terms of instinct, but as far as I'm concerned, these differences aren't linked in a definite way to the gender, but to the person as an individual.
What leads a little boy in the inside to play such a sad part, to impose himself, to try to make him look a big shot in front of his friends... lying, lying to himself, to people he...seems to care about. He was asked about who was the one he loved. Well, none, for that matter, especially and most certainly, not himself.