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Recently, Someone, has been trying to insinuate himself among the blank pages of my life.

I chose the word blank not applying to something not yet written; but meaning : dull, missing, craving, watching. Like the end of Une longue dimanche de fiancailles : ''Et elle le regard...Le regard...''

I should have followed the clues left to reach Machiavelli's - L'asino d'oro , but, before that, I took accidentally another path following Cupid and Psyche.

This story was the wrong fairytale leading to the right of the left puzzle inside me.

Awkward,for I was doubting my own decisions regarding my cruel monster.


Such bliss pondered beneath the sheats of my former insecurity...The answers I needed lay there barenaked in front of my irises! Cupid and Psyche !

Yes ! Now it's like looking at myself not through that opalescent wall, but through an effulgent crystal glass !

I know I may have listened to the words of the two covetous sisters, but, from now on, I'll leave my light off and blindly follow.

Stone blind I shall see. And I'm going to look inside the darkness. Gazing.

Abandoning inside pitch black velvet. Embracing same arms that took my wings, only to stop my brownian movement, redirecting me towards a linear trajectory...

Thank you, Whoever you are! You unwillingly poured gasoline over the fire that was about to be put out by mushy rains of insecurity.

Et elle le regard...Le regard...

Surely you'll be reading this and :

- wonder how did your master-plan get to the opposite of what you had expected.

-watch the movie I mentioned.(Great movie, by the way. Might I add, that the main character is 90% me. Or I am 90% her. Anyway, both suppositions work perfectly fine.)

- read ( Told ya' you should go for the Books!) Cupid and Psyche.

-hopefully, understand that some things are better left untouched and alone; unless you got a proper User's Guide... Which you don't. And also won't be able to get yourself one. There was only ONE, unique, edition, and that one is already owned. Also, extremely well safe-guarded by my Dragon .


The first job of a Blue Flagger is to protect his station. Bad things can happen, and have. I lost a friend at Nelson a couple years ago when a race car took a turn for the worse. So there I was on Blue during the first race of an SCCA National at Nelson Ledges Road Course when a Formula Continental got a bit exuberant at the preceding station, slid off and made like a charging bull in our direction.

I yelled "Bail!" with all the volume I could muster and it worked. My friends Kim and Andy were on yellow and phones respectively, and promptly spun around to see what was happening. You see, Andy and I are old hands at this game and his bride Kim took to flagging like a cat after tuna. They were behind the station, and that's where you're supposed to go. Corner workers don't have to stand out there naked on an established track like Nelson. There each station has a roof, a box, a floor and best of all a barrier. We stood behind a guardrail piled three-high and a tire wall. You bail behind the barrier when a car is coming but never right behind it. Barriers move. I have a friend who moved a section of concrete wall a meter wide when he clobbered it in his GTI. You give it room, and you start looking. The car buried itself in the tire wall, just like it was supposed to, but it might have hit and flipped, rolling right over us. We were looking, on our feet, ready to move once we knew where to run.

Once we saw the car had been stopped it was my turn to run. I grabbed the fire bottle and by the time I got around the station I could see the driver was already disconnecting himself from the various things that keep a driver in a race car. That told me more clearly than anything else that he knew where was and probably wasn't hurt at all. So I helped him out of the car and tried to get him around the station. But the thing is about a driver whose just clobbered something-- they're usually really pissed. Really, really pissed. He started bitching about the guy in front of him even before I got him out of the car, and then about the slower traffic he thought he was lapping. He blamed the incident on someone else, a supposed slower car he was lapping who just got in his way. Thing, is the General Competition Rules of the Sports Car Club of America (and pretty much every other sanctioning body) quite explicitly state the overtaking driver is responsible for making the pass. Also, he wasn't passing a lapped car, he was trying to get by a competitor, so the pass was for position. But he didn't see it that way. I got him behind the station and on the way spotted the blue flag I'd left lying when I ran to his car and promptly began waiving it. That got Andy involved too, with a whole lot of "Sir, you can't do that". I got my flag back and assumed blue flag position. Which left Andy alone to keep him from going back to his car, which is also common after a crash. After all, these guys are amateurs and have to pay for their own crash damage. Fortunately he's about six and half feet tall so it worked.

Andy had an interesting five minutes or so before the driver calmed down. After that he proved a really nice guy. And we expected that too. Things change when you put the helmet on and strap in. Out on track, winning is what matters. There are no synchromesh gears to ease a downshift from powerful emotions.

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