I’m on top of the mountain and fly with the eagles of Norway. I look down on the green waters and see fish. Lots of fish. They say that birds are a higher form of evolution of the fish kingdom. I like fish, even though most of them have small bones. Hardly ever a strong stamina. They are good at adapting, and being malleable, and all that. But they would never understand an uncompromising bird that would insist on breaking a wing before changing its mind. Birds are air animals, and some like to shit on the heads of tall statues. In Romania, where I come from, most statues of Lenin and Stalin have a crown on top made of sharp blades. Some birds fly straight into them – they don’t get the point about the communists trying to prevent the occurrence of immoral acts, such as being free and independent.

So, while flying I get this idea, inspired also by the zoological narrative which has it that while the chimpanzee has 13 ribs and homo sapiens only 12, it goes without saying that when God decided to take a rib out of Adam to create the woman, he was thinking about her as a higher form of evolution than the other species. With Adam being demoted and all that, it also goes without saying that he was unable to see that logic, of the higher self. Consequently he argued for millennia that Eve was his inferior. Therefore she had to submit to him, and cook for him, and give him children, and all that nonsense. So I get this idea that perhaps while flying, one could speak the language of the birds, go back to more commonsensical times. Back in time, the time before Adam screwed up logic with his complex of inferiority, the language of the birds was the only one uncontaminated by shit. It was the perfect divine language, green language, angelic or Enochian language, and magical language for communicating grand esoteric secrets. We don’t evolve for nothing.

I heard a bird today instructing me in the following initiatory idea: Thou shall move on top of a mountain in Norway. If Norway was a religion, it would be your only religion. Thou shall open The House of Spirits and Spinach. There thou shall serve the following: for breakfast, the toast called The Flying Magic Spinach Carpet; for lunch, the sandwiches called Ali Baba and the 40 Spinach Thieves; for dinner, the lentil-stew called 1001 Spinach Nights. Go to bed and have green dreams.


delfina said…
Draga Camelia, imi place ce ai scris si ma inspira. Daca tot vorbim de "pasare", pentru sufletul romanilor nu poate fi alta decat "pasarea maiastra", folclorul nostru e plin de povesti si poezii despre "maiastra", este poate o adiere din sufletul stramosilor, un memento vivere, adica un spectacol fascinant al sufletului vesnic in timp ce rolurile muritoare se dizolva. Multe bucurii si evelatii in continuare. Delfina

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