This is not about Hiroshima
Change of plans
This is about Shirley’s birthday, she changed her mind and she says she diesen’t want to go to Hiroshima.
She wants to stay here in Bangkok
She had a patient a while ago who was in kill Bill the movie, and then it was written about him he died in here, Babcock of asfixiation cau to sed by sexual enhancement.
So she says she didn’t want to go and she diesen’t really know about the little boy, and the Man batten project and all that we did see Oppenheimer, went to sleep too much dialogue too little action.
Can’t think without the opera Einstein on the beach in conjunction to , it was said that initially appeared matter of fact about his oldest son, then Nixon in China soaked into my consciousness, then the repression of the Ohillippines by Spain and similar repression of Hungary by the Ottomans.
Switch reals to 1956 the russkies invaded Hungary, the prime minister was hung including the defense minister, and mom and me fled to US the west the west the freedom and the freak out out by radio free Europe.
Switch all those reels and the the current president is pushing up to Putin what’s happening?
She doesn’t want to go to Hiroshima, min amour, the girl’s heart in the insane hiding place giving her asylum after her wermacht soldier, shot and left amour in it’s angelic little boy angel symbol of shooting an arrow through her inflamed heart.
She is not in either of those Einstein or Nixon stagers but in woman of the dunes, a sobering down of Madame butterfly, a darkened stage of reality, no arias there to embellish with a score of real strife, a drunk husband instead of slow haunting strains to unrequited live.
She waits for him to return in agony, as Asia expects such enlighten moral responsibility, but what she gets , instead is the haunt of Europe’s rape by an embittered soul less satiric creature in the firm that bees firm of Zeus.
The butterflies long lovely wings, instead of the rotor like buzzing of bees , the zen of sounds reflected off of fathomless ages of resounding sutras through vapid filth grown lovely flowers delicately floating there, as if unsupported on murky bluis-green wavelets , delicately there then.
It breaks the heart hers, as Puccini waved his baton in the 19th hundreds, and she goes off , Johnny wants to go in December, when his term is up until the the new term begins in January.
But don’t mention to Lagaya or Bonoy about his breakup with his wife, I promise and let it stand,