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It is the essence of our humanity. You are commenting using your Facebook account. The sweater must have barely gotten over the two shoulders and here may be rolled up and tense as if the shoulders were too narrow for this sweater, which proves without any doubt that he really did make a mistake and place a hand in the collar and the other hand in a sleeve.
Language is the way we stay human and writing is the most intimate use of language we can try. Leave a Reply Cancel reply Enter your comment here References will be subject to editor approval before appearing. Post was not sent – check your email addresses!
In this very short story he introduces a tiny, daily, insignificant action, as it is to put codtazar a sweater, to present us with a character who will take us on a ride to the deepest parts of his psyche. And he tries to do so struggling with his whole body, throwing it forward and back, turning around in the middle of the room, if this is indeed the middle of the room because now he comes to think that the juilo has been left open and that it is dangerous to keep turning around blindly.
It is about asphyxia. But it is too late, because the deformed hand, that made it out of the sleeve, is attacking him. You can either use the [ Trackback URL ] for this entry, or link to your response directly. And yet, in the twilight, the finger has the appearance of having been shriveled up and placed towards the inside, with one black nail ending in a point.
Don’t Blame Anyone.- – NonUseMuse
Twitter Facebook Email Reddit. Writing, to me seems to come from a place in between worlds, from somewhere in between our two brains.
You are commenting using your Twitter account. You can read the original here. It hurts too much and his right hand, in any case, would need culep help instead of rising or falling uselessly towards his legs, instead of nibbling at his thigh as it is doing, scratching and nibbling through the clothing without being able to stop itself from doing so because all his willpower is contained in his left hand.
To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: A work “No one is to blame” by this Argentine. Unless, instead of helping it, it were biting it because all of a sudden the imprisoned hand hurts and the other hand is pressing down with all its might in this endeavor, which must be his hand and which hurts, hurts to the point that he gives up trying to remove the sweater, preferring to make one last effort to get his head out of the collar and the left rat out of the cage.
Email required Address never made public. Cortazar teaches me to remain awake, inspired and never let my life become a sweater I get stuck on. It seems absurd to carry on whistling in the sudden blue darkness enveloping him, and it begins to feel hot. He is certain that his wet mouth is being enveloped in blue, then his nostrils, then his cheeks. So as to arrive at last somewhere else without a hand and without a sweater, somewhere where there may be only a fragrant air that surrounds and accompanies and caresses him and twelve stories.
The one who is reading you, is listening to you in his silence. May 31, Amichai Levy. Sorry, your blog cannot share posts by email. This is a book of poems, songs, notes and letters. It is not easy, perhaps owing to the shirt’s sticking to the wool of the sweater.
The hand is the symbol of our power to construct our own lives, the way we want to, according to our needs and aspirations. Is it a creativity problem? Reader Comments 2 Only Cortazar could make such a simple act so suspenseful.
No matter how hard he pulls, nothing comes out, and he realizes that perhaps cortazzar made a nadje owing to the ironic anger with which he resumed the task, and that he was stupid enough to coryazar placed his head in one of the sleeves and a hand through the collar of the sweater. It seemed like it would not because hardly has the wool of the sweater gotten stuck to the shirt again, owing still to the operation as well as to his habit of beginning with the other, difficult sleeve, when he starts to whistle again so as to distract himself, feeling that the arm is barely advancing and that, without some kind of complementary manoeuvre, he would never get out of here.
Categories and cortzaar of Deeblog. It’s already late and he notices that the air is cool. He takes his sweater off and examines his hand, but now the hand is perfectly normal. As you can see, by the continuous lack of posts on my blog, I have been quiet…artistically mute…blocked.
Don’t Blame Anyone.-
Thank you, I love yo read your posts. With one tug the sweater sleeve madie pulled off and he looks at his hand as if it were not his.
Absurdly, he does not want to open his eyes but he knows that he has gotten out, this cold material, this is delicious in the free air.
He puts on the sweater, one arm first, but he has trouble forcing the arm through the sleeve. It is a cold afternoon and he decides to wear a blue sweater to match his grey suit. You are commenting using your WordPress.
We are all inside a blue sweater at one point of our lives, struggling to get out and seeing ourselves from the outside, not liking what we see. Perhaps he has fallen to his knees and is mulio there as cortxzar hung from his left hand which is drawn from the sweater one more time.