Short photostory: Kiss of Death

He was called the Snake Man. He came from a long tradition of snake sympathizers. He had grown more familiar with snakes than people. He couldn’t forget the first time, he saw one. He was seven years old and he was sleeping next to his mother that night. It was raining hard. He felt something cold rush by his leg, he didn’t open his eyes, thinking that it might just be a rat, but then he felt it again. This time he woke up to meet face to face with a ten foot mamba who was staring straight in his eyes. Fear had caught his voice in his throat and no sound was going to come out. They stared at each other for a moment that felt like an eternity and then all of a sudden as if the snake had made its point, it left the hut. Now was a good time to scream and alert his parents, but he didn’t. He had felt a sense of familiarity as he stared into the eyes of the serpent. He remembered the stories his father had told him about the totem of his tribe and wondered what it meant. The next morning when he told his father about what had happened, he saw his father swell up with pride and tell him: “I’m so proud of you, my son. You are finally ready. Our ancestors have spoken: You are ready to start your training as the future Snake Man.”

Today he was showing to the whole village why he was the Snake Man, giving the kiss of death to one of the most venomous snake on Earth without any harm. Just another kiss, just another day.


Make right right and wrong wrong

I have gently climbed over the other side of the moon and let my feet dangle in the atmosphere

my heavy legs were finally weightless and my soul finally grew heavier

I wanted this moment. Right here. Right now. To last.

I wanted the stars to fly by et me faire des bisous au loin.

I wanted “Hakuna Matata” tattooed on my upper and lower lips

so I can smile my way through life.

I had finally, I tell you, found my place in the universe

And I can’t say that I was surprised by the outcome

I was sure as I am sure that I am a biped and not a quatriped that this was going to come to this point.

This point where I had nowhere to go and nowhere to be.

Just here with me, myself and I.

But I have to say I miss the songs of the stream

and the little chirps of birds before Tom the cat swallows them.

But who am I fooling?

You can’t possibly have everything you desire

It’s unfair

And you can’t live with yourself after that

let’s not forget that you are too much of a wuss to commit seppuku

So make sure to keep the balances tipped

keep the winners and the losers in their seats

Once in awhile make them change places

but don’t let anyone get their fair share

or I will have to climb down from my side of the moon

to make right right and wrong wrong.

“The Second Sex” ?


I have been stretching myself thin these last few days between school, life and work that I couldn’t get find my way to this blog, but it just happens that one of my literary theory classes is about renown french feminist Simone de Beauvoir “Le Deuxieme Sexe” (The Second Sex)  and for those of who don’t know who she is and you happen to call yourself a woman or who are born from a woman, SHAME, SHAME, SHAME ON YOU!!

After you recover for feeling ashamed, I would tell you that she has been the first to point out that the Woman as an idea is simply mythical, unrealistic and has nothing to do with  women in real life. She states that “Through eroticism, love, friendship, and their alternatives, deception, hate, rivalry, the relation is a struggle between conscious beings each of whom wishes to be essential, it is the mutual recognition of free beings who confirm one another’s freedom, it is the vague transition from aversion to participation. To pose Woman is to pose the absolute Other, without reciprocity, denying against all experience that she is a subject, a fellow human being.” As I read it, I was like yeah sure: be erotic, be loving, be friendly when you are not deceiving, hating or having rivalry and that will be part of the struggle between conscious beings. I don’t know how conscious those beings are to be, because I have to say depending on the time of the day, my level of consciousness goes up and down.

Little gossip aside: She was known to have contingent love relationships with men and women! OMG!!!

Back to the topic, this is about whether or not women occupy the second position to men. I know that this issue is pretty cut and dry in patriarchal societies, but I have always asked myself what if? What if this is a case of which comes first: The egg or the chicken?

This is as far as I will go on this topic, because like all the other -isms, namely racism, nazism, communism, capitalism; sexism can’t be addressed entirely or completely by this humble world crusader who has made the pledge to eradicate one world problem at a time. BUT my only argument is that since I have been an egg and I will never be the chicken, I know when and how to give respect to the chicken. I’m just saying.