Movies do not make me shed tears anymore, nature stopped impressing me, global warming leaves me cold; I am indifferent to human suffering, to separation from people; Bach's music doesn't move me anymore, my skin is like ice, my hugs are mechanical, orgasms artistical; I do not know anymore how to enjoy the sun, the rain, the hammock hanging on the birch. Today in the park I bought myself a vanilla ice cream. I did not get to lick it not even once; it fell out of my hand. I started crying.
(Translated by Mălina Ţîru / University of Bucharest, Faculty of Foreign Languages and Literatures, MTTLC, year II / Corrected by Silvia Petrescu, coordinator of the translations)
Versiunea în română a acestui text se poate citi aici, în rubrica Ficţiuni Reale.