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The round table smaller when they all sit. This is nice, he thinks. The warm soup brushing down his throat. Is it hot in here? She asks, fanning with her fingers. Does the salad have fish? It has tuna. I hate tuna. Five of them, on a Thursday that feels like a Friday. Dinning. They will have wine, a bit later. Their eyes a fade off sparkle. They will look like they’re in love but they’re just drunk. Alcohol and love. What happened to your fingers? I was dicing onions. Are they family? No, friends. Is it better? Are friends better than family? Family has a blood bondage, it’s a must. Friends, you choose them. Would you choose your siblings if you had options. A topic. The food slowly empties from the bowls, from the plates. The wine cork unscrewed. White wine? How nice. Late in to the night. I think I have to be on my way. Sliding his phone back to his pocket after checking the time. Twenty minutes to midnight. The spot he leaves vacant and open, and enormous. I guess I should go too, Linda is alone with the baby. The night shifting to morning and they separate. The effect of this type of nights in their life evident. To be remembered, to be viewed and worried about. A family, but better.
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Christos Anesti!
Alithos Anesti!
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ዝንፍ ጥርሶችህ የወተት ፍልቃቂ ፈገግታህ የበግ ለመድ የደበቀው ሙዳይ ህመም የላብህን ጠረን አጥርቶ ለለየው እንጂ መድረክ ላይ ስትውረገረግ ማን ገምቶህ? የከሰአት ፀሀይ ብናይ ላይ ስታንፀባርቅ ያ ቡኒ ሶፋ ላይ ተቀምጠህ ስትተክዝ ማን ትዝ ብሎህ ይሆን? ደረትህ ቀስት የዋጠ ያህል አየር ሲርቅህ በዛች ደቂቃ ማን ይሆን ለቅፅበት አይንህ ላይ የተሰለበው?

እጅህ ላይ የተሰፋ ሚመስለው ‘ማይክ'ስ? ስትታጠፍ አብሮህ ሚታጠፈው? ማሪኝ ብዬሻለውን ስታዜም ከአይንህ ጋር አብሮ ሲያነባስ? ሰፊ መድረክን መዳፍ ስታስመስልስ? ወገብህን አጥፈህ ፅጌሬዳን ስትቀጥፍ ልታዜምላት እንደሆነ ምለህላት ነው? ግንባርህ ላይ ላብ ያዳፋት የፀጉርህን ሰደድ በቀስታ ስታስተካክልልህ ወደድኩ አፈቀርኩሽ አልካት? መውደድህን አለም እንዲያቅ ዜማ ስትቀልፅ አላለቀስክም? ፍቅር ምን ያህል ብርቱ ነው? ስሟስ የሺህ ሃረግ ነው? ባንቺ ምክንያት ሰው ሁላ ይጣላኝ ስትል እሷ በቅታህ ነው? ተለይታህ ያደረች ሌት ከንፈርህን ስታኝክ ህመሙ ከመራቋ ይብሳል?

ጠይም ሎጋ ጣቶችህ መፅናት ሲያቅታቸው የፈለሰው ጊዜ እንደ ማለዳ አክታ አልተናነቀህም? ጊዜ ቅን አይደለም ያልክ ማግስት ሉጫ ፀጉርህ ሲገረጣስ? በህመም ያበጠው ፊትህን ለመፈወስ የተሳናቸው የፀሀይ ወጋገኖች ሲገርፉት የህይወት ከንቱነት በርትቶብህ ይሆን? እርጅና ሚስበው የሰቀቀን ወንጭፍስ? ማንን አውርተህ ይሆን? በደሳሳህ ጎጆ የጨረቃ ገላ በጣራ ሽንቁር በሚሾልክበት ተንጋለህ ስትደበት ፍፁም እረፍት አልናፈቀህም? የት ይሆን ሚገኘው? በሰረቅራቃ የድምፅህ ጉብታ ውስጥ? ወይስ በሚጎርፈው የዜማህ ጅረት መካከል ባሉት በነዛ ነሲብ ደቃቃ ዝምታዎች ውስጥ?
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The leaves, until they die and become something bigger than themselves, are a mirror, beyond their wrinkles to our future.

But this leaf gets crushed by the pointy four fingered feet of a pigeon. The faded green surface implies its near fall from the skies, improvises a sadness- that resides in the coal dark shadow of the soul, the falling, the height below and its crushing force. How long can you maintain your sanity? A question you reply with quivering lips. How long could you maintain the flight? Heads up! Look straight in to my eyes and not on the abyss below you. You think about the leaf and its torture and you bleed as if its scratches were yours. At the top of the tree early that night, and the night and wind twined brutal and unforgiving, and you pled for fairness. ‘Look around
, - a voice or the conscious if translated to words, look around and conclude, is fairness real? Or a concept we entertain? This all doesn’t matter except your wounds that transcend to feverish yellow and you will die and blend. The leaf and you, again, beyond ritual and custom, beyond life and its virtues, suffer from the unexplainable. And you drug your soul with thought of your exceptionality, while you can be explained in terms of leaves- whose life sweeten only for a season.

(fear of flying)
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Kiss me slowly, bend this weekend to a curve that breaks forever.

His breath tickling her neck, still in his attire, his leather shoes on the edge. When she pulls his hand and the gap closes, birth of indifference, one and all, on a Sunday evening where the rain trickles to tomorrow. It doesn’t feel like lust anymore when her hair hits his face.

His phone rings and she sees the name. At the end of the sofa buzzing to silence. She knows the name. Her mind slips back to him. Careless whispers in her ears when he tells her he loves her until the weekend ends. The silence voided by names she calls him and the phone vibrates again. She looks over and the same name resurfaces. She pushes him off of her.

‘Answer it’

‘Come on now’
He crawls back to her.
She backs off.
‘Pick it up’
Her voice cracks and her eyes voluminous.
He suddenly feels an ecstatic fear. His heart still pounding and his mind quickly sober.
‘It’s okay, she is with her family this whole weekend even if something happens’
She sits straight and stand to slowly pace to her bedroom as if she is walking on a beach.
‘Where are you going?’
Un-worded reply. Prettier walking away and he surges to her. His phone vibrates again. He quickly gets a peek. The same name. He pines and walks to her. He founds her lying at the middle of the bed and the sheets take the shape of her. She, an entity in his universe where everything suddenly revolves around. The depth in his pupils shallower and his words failed to a stutter. Reasons illogical when she is his sight. Her face staring a wall and it’s impossible to just stop. He sits on the edge and tries to get a glance of her face. Her hair lie across her right eye. He begins to plead but what’s to plead about. Angel dust in form of an actual angel and he’s expected to defuse. His fingers slide across her skin and she doesn’t refuse the touch. Burning flames and it’s good like it hurts. When he removes her hair to uncover her, her brown iris a reflection of her soul, swimming in tears and uncertainty. How wavy is this ocean? When the kiss lands it’s salty and warm. When they lay together the stars align and disperse to daylight. The morning proclaimed and he is still her possession. Her scent a mark on his skin and it diffuses to the world.

When his shoes are back on and he steps out of her bedroom, he stands on no man’s land. Is it called a no man’s land because someone wandering around in it no longer has any idea who he is?
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When I am in the shower, I choose songs that I would listen to if everything is ending or a serial killer is slowly crippling behind me when my head is covered in shampoo and tears. Or, most of the times- Alazar Asgedom. I wouldn’t mind him being the last voice I remember.
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በዘረጋሁት ሰፊ ጠፈር ላይ ብቻዬን እንደ እፉዬ ገላ እባክናለው::

በእርጥብ እግሮቹ ዳዴ ሚለምደው ልጅህ እስካሁን ስሙን በማን እንደምሰይም እጠራጠራለው:: ድንገት ብቅ ከምትለው ፈገግታው ውጪ አንተን ሚመስል አንድም ገፅታ የለውም:: ሴት አያቴ ቅዳሜ እለት አይታው ይሄ ልጅ ረጅም ነው አለችኝ:: ምን አልባት ወደ ፊት ሚመስሉህ ማንነቶች ይኖሩታል::

ሲያድግ ግን እንኳን አንተን-- የአንተን ሩብ እንዳይሆን ነው ማስተምረው::

ከሰርጉ በፊት ጥለህኝ ስትሄድ-- ትተህኝ አልልህም:: አልተውከኝም-- ርህራሄን ከሚያሹ ለብላባ ከንፈሮች መሃል ስትጥለኝ ሊታደገኝ የመጣ አንድ መልአክም አልነበረም:: 'ላማ ሰብቅታኒ!' ብዬ እንዳልማፀን እምነቴን አጣሁ:: በፍቅር ካላመንኩ በምን አምናለሁ?

ትልቁ ፍርሃቴ ሞት መሆን አቁሟል:: ህይወት ከየትኛውም ገሃነም ያቃጥላል:: ፍትህ እንደ በአድ ስርአት ይቆጠራል:: ክህደት የመሳም እትማት ነው:: ሁለት ቀን በቅጡ ሳልታመም ማርገዜን አወቅኩኝ:: ቀዝቃዛ ወለል የቆዳዬ ያህል እየተሰማኝ ደርቄ ቀረሁ:: ለመሞት በቂ አቅም አጣሁ:: በመስኮት ምትሾልከው ፀሀይ በዝግታ ወጥታ ስትመለስ ሸኘሁአት:: የመኖር ልማዱ ተረሳኝ::

በሳምንቱ መሃል ለሊት ላይ የማላውቀው እንባ ቀሰቀሰኝ:: ከዚህ በፊት እንዲህ አንብቼ አላውቅም:: ከከበበኝ ጨለማ በላይ ሚጨክን ብቸኝነት ተሰማኝ:: አንተ ትተህ የመሄድ የደደብ ሰው ድፍረት ካለህ ማን ከጎኔ ይቀራል?

ያን ለሊት ከምወልደው ልጄ ላይ እትብቱን ላለመቁረጥ ወሰንኩኝ::
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Okay, seriously, Shazam might be top two creation after seedless grapes.
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2025/10/21 13:03:58
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