Hobson's choice

I am the one who signs.
I agree to confirm that..
certain facts are true which then..
trigger further processes of..
authentication, approval, acceptance.

One movement, few milligrams of ink..
and I agree to years of hard work, quiet
suffering, loud cries, swollen heads, stridor dentium, the adrenaline of an A+,
aching Computer arms and dilated pupils. I approve something..
I have not been involved in. I decide over rental
conracts, I enable visa prolongations, the right to
stand and sleep and walk on a specific piece of earth..
that I did not create, that is not mine. I sign and it means...
YES or NO.

I click "fulfilled" or "not fulfilled".
You are welcome or Go to hell. 
I stamp and seal and move right to left, my eyes, my fingers,
my thoughts: Left, right, left, right, right, right, left, left.
And I get up and open my mouth and I utter sounds and I speak..
to another human being about

Those journeys at night which break the rules we agreed to once
when we signed contracts and filed their copies because we  agreed some other time
with the approval of a system consisting of sub-systems, billions of signees agreeing even if they disagree because long ago, when we still had no memory, someone else signed for us...
the fact that we are getting older...
getting older as the only truth we have always been so sure about...
because when we were born our parents had signed a paper...one moment of
dark color, naming and framing a little life, as heavy as a bunch of vegetables.

My sub sub subaqueos part tells me at night what I forgot to sign and it laughs at me because..
..I want to keep a proof of those trials, a signature, a trace, but it always shuts the door and
hides in a new galaxy, a castle, a land of no proof no guilt no innocence no chance no answers no questions no shape no existence..
Sleep or wake up, take it or leave it.
I unfold the turban of my family ties and the blood is dropping from my cheeks..
and from below my long skirt made of thousand pieces of cloth.
The feeling of shame is enormous, but it is easy to hide most often because
I do it like the Boa constrictor: swallow it all up and wait until it disappears in the black depth of my intestines. 


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