“What are you looking for again now?” You ask, the hands distinguished in the hips.
“Actually, you have not put your hands in your hips, but on the waist, and at all, why in, then when on. In would be right, if you had 150 kg, and your hands in the stumbling so disappear into the fat folds, but then they would still be on and not in. It does not go, “I reflect thoughtfully.
“But you do not really imagine how I would look, if I had 150 kg?”, You intermittently interrupt me.
“But why would not I think of it in my dream, with bacon rolls, a double chin, and a wrinkled face, and …” I replied.
“It is enough! What are you looking for? “, You become increasingly perplexed.
“I’m looking for? Oh, I’m looking for my pencil,” I reply.
“But over there in the pencil box are at least five pencils,” you give back.
“You see, you do not understand pencils. I am looking for a very specific, and that is not there. You do not even use the same pot for everything,” I return, shaking my head.
“You do not really want to compare a pot with a pencil?” You ask in astonishment.
“No, I will not compare, I will find,” I reply shortly.
“Then you should give it there to the others, everything to the place that belongs to it, then you do not have to constantly search for it. It’s because you’re so sloppy. It is not for nothing, order is half-life,” you teach me immediately.
“Yes, because you spend half the life to hold it constantly. Keeping things is tedious and takes time, much more than I need to search. Sometimes I have the impression that order is kept for the sake of order and not because it is meant to serve one. No, I prefer to stay with my system. In the midst of creative chaos, the most glorious thoughts arise. Without the chaos, some history would not have arisen if things were together that had nothing to do with each other. Order destroys the creative, because there are only things that are connected together, no new thought can arise, and it is great moments when one suddenly finds something where one would not have expected it. Hold it as you want, I will not take my creativity,” I say confidently.
“And yet, all you say is a preamble to the fact that you’re just too lazy to keep order, nothing more. In any case, I cannot imagine that you feel comfortable in your chaos. Everyone likes order,” you say assured.
“Why do you know that? Did you ask everyone?” I give snippily back, “You close already sinfully conclusively from you to others. But I know with absolute certainty that I would not have found much if I had not looked for it.”
“Sure, if you’re not looking, you cannot find,” you reply dryly.
“If you know what, we’ll enjoy the other part of life and take a trip,” I suggest, and without waiting for an answer, I’ll take you by the hand and with the other hand a pencil that I have the longest time held, I stick thoughtlessly behind the ear.
