Chickenpox Swimming Pool

A moment

The way it is.
our average height is just over five feet and less than two. Compared with the dimensions of the universe, we are a grain of sand but not in a desert but in a world vastly larger than Earth.
live between seventy and ninety years ago. This means that if the total time on Earth, from its inception until now, was a year, our whole life would be significantly less than one-twelfth of a second in that year.
Having this idea in his head at half past three and step wiped the counter of a small bar is an invitation to suicide. Overall, if we are a ridiculous fraction of time and space, why would something so serious suicide? A gun on my temple. Some of Bach in the background. Squeeze the trigger and leave the pettiness to embrace nothing.
my suicide contemplation is interrupted when a couple asks me Coca Cola. I wonder if all clients will think like small bars in the universe that lies behind their caregivers. Or if you just see something in human form is functional to them what they want. I'm a little slow for my internal dialogue and the man snorts grumpy. I smile. I did waste a ridiculous fraction of time greatly in the total time on Earth. But even so, I give the Coca and smile as my boss forced me.
He pulls out his wallet and women, with wheezing, is quick to pay. "You keep your machismo .- babbles her while I get the silver.
The man shrugs. "You too.
incline his head slightly. Like when someone hears something interesting. I guess flip through your conversation while waiting for is an interesting circumvented overnight suicide. Anyway, I did not bring anything of Bach. Neither the gun, fear not. The
I can smell. I love when students come to the little bar Letters. Philosophy Social Communication and well. Dumped as much passion to the critical discourse of an object distance of the object. Even though this object is the reason why they are in the little bar at half past three while waiting for the rest.
"The woman is undoubtedly best poetic image that man .- she argues.
He smiles, almost arrogant. "Do not you realize that your pseudo-feminist stance is an echo of machismo, and is so echo is functional. You say that women are more poetic because you see through the male gaze. A man who does not see himself as beautiful. How poetic. You say that is because it is natural, because it looks the body of man and the woman's body, is common sense say, but there are centuries behind your common sense.
"That's where you are wrong. Reading a bit, using this ... - she says, pointing to his head can take a small step to the side of time. As I pass
wiped the counter asked me what will build a small step to the side of less than one twelfth of a second.
The man leans back in his chair. "You take a step back to say the same things said centuries ago. It's like that concept to analyze from a stranger. Nothing is extraneous. Everything is built and everything is planned. Everything
-Back-symbol .- complete she went to the same theory.
He nods. "Exactly.
- But I am going to deny that between our legs we had no wars, sleeplessness, poems, symphonies, misery and virtues?
-No. But it was a tragedy for your position to say that. Why put women as indirect objects of symphonies and wars and not highlighted as subjects. It is true that. And dry. As the muse that inspires does not create.
"But without his touch, is non-
machismo disguised that. Poetic, but in disguise. Because women stealing our creative subject.
She moves her head from side to side, accepting his defeat discourse. "Right. But there are hundreds of writers and-
"Yes, yes. That is and nobody denies it. But here, "he says, pointing to his head is the idea of \u200b\u200bart of a man digging a muse, seduction of a man approaching him with a woman. There is a social issue and anatomical domain of penetration. And
economic domain.
He nods.
"It's quite tragic. But that common sense will be detonated. Man's time finally arrived.
A couple of minutes in a year. The time came quickly, I think.
- Do you think? - Encourages him, I think this tragedy is so deep in our flesh that is difficult remove. Without going any further, you, with all your feminist views and positions, I look good, you derretís in bed when I tell you you're my bitch.
She opens her eyes, annoyed. Look around to make sure no one listened. "I like that feeling to belong .- answer, shrug.
I never thought I would create something so sweet.
They kiss. Finally. They kiss without the laziness of those couples that are already known. They kiss as if for the first time. Or the last. Now, forgetting and losing the critical discourse on the object, now they understand. I do know is a fraction of a moment to waste no time. Beautiful concept. But I have to pass the cloth on the counter to pay rent.