Today I dreamed of a monkey dressed as a man. I dreamed of a journalist who never talks to her because he knows that eventually interviewed saying what he wants to say. I dreamed of two prostitutes sharing supper with two clients and a rag doll. I dreamed of the head of a dog dressed as a woman looking shocked. I dreamed of music of Handel's Sarabande and monkeys disguised as a man with a magic paintbrush rebuilding the ruins of an abandoned city. I dreamed of a public blind to the miracle and by holding symbol of redemption. ***
'm giving up the quotes. Each time I return to my text and I find some I get rid of them and I'm amazed at how much better the set without the aid of crutches. The right language, says Arcadi Espada. Once (I think that I've heard) in the faculty asked how it was that Philip II was so concerned about the affairs "of provinces," quoting manually quotes the entire class. The teacher then looked me up and down and asked me if maybe I was in Madrid. To defend the praise he insisted in quotation marks, thus showing (and detestable pride) my vulgar as a man from the provinces.
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