Escriviure.

"Abans que escriptor, abans que poeta, sóc persona. Però quan no puc més, escric. Faig versos per la realitat que no m'agrada. La literatura és una defensa contra les ofenses de la vida."

Ponç Pons, poeta menorquí

UAB, Bellaterra, 23/03/2012

I must laugh or die.

Although Bertha Young was thirty she still had moments like this when she wanted to run instead of walk, to take dancing steps on and off the pavement, to bowl a hoop, to throw something up in the air and catch it again, or to stand still and laugh at nothing, simply.

What can you do if you are thirty and, turning the corner of your own street, you are overcome, suddenly by a feeling of bliss -absolute bliss!- as though you'd suddenly swallowed a bright piece of that late afternoon sun and it burned in your bosom, sending out a little shower of sparks into every particle, into every finger and toe?

Oh, is there no way you can express it without being "drunk and disorderly"? How idiotic civilisation is!

Bliss 

Katherine Mansfield.

Porque los lunes, por increíble que parezca, pueden ser días realmente buenos.

Love, -T-