In the last months every time i meet someone new, this text appears on my hand. I cannot help it. It’s an unknown illness of skin pigmentation, like vitiligo, but this one disappears after some days.
Because of all the complaints of these new people (they barely could think of anything else, but the meaning of that word, and the business-type meaning of it only, and that it is evidently my body's autoimmune comment about them) i started to feel like a weirdo, basically: a Hungarian Michael Jackson.
So, since then, each time the sign of disease reappears, i overwrite it with a sharpie. This makes everyone more comfortable.
But i like the natural one, under this fake thing, much more.
quite close to 2008. 20.08 20:08 in pub sirdie, an old guy,
who was married since three weeks, explained to me, that he
can't read images, doesn't understand them at all. i picked up
my notebook. i just finished a drawing before he came there.
i tought it's a perfectly simple drawing: it shows a healing person
stretching an ill guy. the healer is cleaning up the energies of the other.
so anyway i showed this drawing to the old one :
and asked:
- okay can you read this drawing?
it was a really fast reaction-time. he said:
- i see a really wild, but probably meaningless thing.
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