I used to clean my glasses every day. Rub, polish and make the lenses shine. I wanted to see the world as it was, to see colours and smiling people. But I couldn’t find them anywhere, no matter where I looked. Now my glasses are all smeared. There’s nothing beautiful out there to make me clean my glasses again.
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August 26, 2008 | Posted in Bits and pieces
8 Responses to .
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Ralu says:
!!! You can’t have lost hope. That’s just not possible. You were made that way – lovely and happy and alive and orange. So SMILE! 
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ionuca says:
I haven’t! It’s just and idea that crossed my mind today -
And look, Urma has a sister/brother! http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_6_HIACq8Rh4/SLLNfcEigXI/AAAAAAAAB_o/0EwnnU0lSZ4/s1600-h/100_5887.JPG
It belongs to this illustrator from Buenos Aires, Gustavo Aimar.
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OmG, another uRMa! Who would have thought?
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Thomas Hunt Morgan says:
Genetics, eh?
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@ Ralu: comment recovered!
@ Thomas: Yeah, that stuff can be really scary sometimes
I put it on Twitter. 
