Casual conversations on mind-boggling matters by Lucia Morosanu (dar e dil novel online reading txt) 📕

“Oh, and cuming is nice. It’s very nice.”

“You just had to ruin it, didn’t you? And we don’t see it being that black and white. I take sex very seriously. To me, it’s much more than an action. I want to be sure when I do it, and that’s why I want to keep myself pure; to give my future husband a gift that only I can give him.”

“What is wrong with you? A presume the gift you are referring to is your virginity and not some weird sexually transmitted disease that you guys call “purity”. But come to think of it, it’s a clever name for an STD, nobody would suspect a thing. And let’s be real; the whole virginity bullshit was made up by MEN to ensure that the kids they had were actually theirs. You don’t ‘lose your virginity’; it’s not like misplacing a book or a phone. It’s just a concept. There is nothing valuable or precious about it. Granted, I don’t actually encourage promiscuity, but it’s none of my damn business what consensual adults do in their free time. Life’s so short, have a bit of fun.”

“Like getting pregnant or contracting an STD?” said Lindsey revolted.

“Yes. That’s what sex is about, you got it. My dear, you are just a never-ending river of wisdom.”

“Don’t be sarcastic. Like you said; it’s none of anyone’s business what I do or DON’T DO with my body,” said Lindsey unable to hide a smirk that found its way to her lips.

Alex laughter softly, “you got me there. Just don’t label it as shameful and don’t make it out to be more than it actually is; it does not require validation from spiritual sources.”

“It’s not validation, it’s blessing.”

“Same difference,” said Alex in a tone that indicated the topic was now closed. She continued dressing.

The silence was disturbed by Lindsey’s phone.

“Hello?” she said. “Hey, how are you? I’m good, just got back from a class and I have another one in like two hours. What’s up? Really? Oh my gosh, that is so fantastic. I can’t wait to get back home and play with her. Thanks for calling, mom. Love you too. Bye,” said Lindsey and put her phone on the desk. Her face radiated a sort of happiness that cannot be helped but be shared with the world.

“What?” asked Alex, delving into a huge pile of papers to find the ones she needed.

“It’s a miracle.”

Alex’s face distorted itself in a shape incapable of description. Stuff that was supposed to be down where up and the other way around.

“My cat just started walking around the house again. She is very sick and a week ago she went missing and we finally found her in a closet, skinny and frightened. I can’t believe it. I am so happy,” said Lindsey.

“I’m glad for your cat and all that, but there is no such thing as a miracle; just a highly improbable event that occasionally finds a way to happen. Nothing more, nothing mysterious, nothing guided by an imaginary vengeful, insecure and tyrannical man,” said Alex.

“Yes, there is. One time at church, an old lady came in who couldn’t hear and through the power of praying she got her hearing back. It’s just wonderful.”

“Good for her. Now she can hear all the gossip around the neighborhood. But have you ever stopped to think that maybe the holy water just washed away the dirt and wax from her ears. And that’s another thing that bugs me about miracles, among many, many other ones. That it doesn’t work the other way around; when a series of very implausible events generates an unpleasant effect, like death or chipping one’s tooth, nobody starts thanking the lord and all that. Just because it’s not nice it doesn’t mean it’s less miraculous. I’m happy for your old lady, but the information you are giving me is so scarce and fragmented that I’m unable to take you seriously; sorry,” said Alex.

“I know what I saw and what I felt and you can’t take that away from me.”

“I’m not trying to take anything away from you, sweetie. I’m just trying to analyze the information you are giving me. I’m looking from the outside in. Like how you would look at Mormons.”

“I don’t like the Mormons. Their religion is so ridiculous,” said Lindsey, getting up from her desk, stretching her legs and arms. She realized she had been sitting in the same position for too long. She sat on her bed, which was enveloped in lilac sheets.

“It kind of is, but at the same time, yours is just as preposterous. We just got used to the bullshit. Like the wine and the bread thing,” said Alex gathering all her stuff in her beige bag.

“The Holy Communion, you mean,” said Lindsey, looking at Alex as she was busy being late for class.

“Yeah, that thing. I mean are we supposed to believe we are actually ingesting the flesh and blood of a 30-year old Jewish man? It’s just morbid. I’m not going to eat anyone’s fucking flesh and blood, that’s just bad manners. Maybe chicken, I could eat chicken’s flesh, especially if it’s rolled around some cornflakes and deep-fried in oil. Mmmmm,” said Alex, taking a bite of an imaginary chicken breast. “But I saw a documentary about cannibals and they said human flesh kind of tastes like chicken. Maybe that’s what they’re on about.”

“You are sick, disturbing and fifty shades of wrong,” said Lindsey.

“I like the first two things but not feeling the last one. And who knows? Maybe cooking up human flesh the right way will make it taste like chicken.”

Lindsey just looked slightly scared at Alex. She always had a feeling that her roommate was missing a few screws, but it's those sort of things that actually made her question Alex’s mental sanity.

“Want to learn a trick?” said Alex, picking up the disturbed vibe Lindsey was emitting.

“I do, but not from you.”

“Don’t imagine what comes out of my mouth. Just understand their intrinsic meaning as words without materializing them in thought. It gets very useful when you hang around guys a lot. But I think this time I managed to gross myself out a tiny bit,” said Alex shivering the thought out of her head.

She looked at the clock.

“Oh, fuck-berry.”

“Don’t swear,” said Lindsey annoyed.

“It’s not swearing. It’s a new type of berry; very organic and good for you. If you know what I mean,” said Alex, winking at Lindsey.

She just rolled her eyes.

“I’m almost late for class. Where is that thing?” asked Alex.

“What thing?”

“That thing with pages in it, which I use to write dribble in.”

“Your notebook?” asked Lindsey.

“Yes! That thing!”

Lindsey got up, walked to Alex’s part of the room, picked up the pillow from Alex’s bed and pointed at the green notebook.

“Oh, thanks,” said Alex, picking up the notebook meekly.

“You’re welcome. How you got a scholarship here, I will never understand,” said Lindsey and sat back down on her bed.

“I is smart,” said Alex with a big grin on her face.

“Yeah.”

The room was engulfed in an eerily silence for a couple of minutes. The only sources of noise were Alex’s vocalizations of frustration generated by her inability to find her stuff.

“I’m going to miss you,” said Lindsey.

“I’m coming back in three hours. I hope I won’t die till then.”

“Not that. When you go to hell.”

“Really?”

“Really," said Lindsey honestly. “I’m going to pray for you. And I’m not saying that in a judgmental way.”

“Not patronizing at all,” said Alex.

“I’m serious here,” said Lindsey.

“I don’t think it will help much.”

“I believe it will.”

Alex turned to face her roommate and smiled.

“Thanks, but if you’re god somehow ends up being real, I don’t think I’ll enjoy my eternal stay.”

“Yeah,” said Lindsey, half expecting that reply.

“Oh, crap,” said Alex, suddenly realizing that her close future will be quite intricate and caffeine-fueled. “I have a project due tomorrow about Chemical kinetics for my Intro Bio course. It was so boring that I could feel my neurons going to sleep every time I thought about it, so I stuffed it in a distant drawer in my head and I totally forgot about it,” said Alex, stretching the skin on her face in an attempt to dramatize the whole situation. It was not a particularly dramatic scene, but she felt it should be.

“Stop whining and don’t do that with your face. It grosses me out. Listen, I know a girl who is one year older than us and is studying the same boring stuff you do. She might help you.”

“That would be quite helpful, thank you,” said Alex, running toward Lindsey.

“NO HUGS!” yelled Lindsey, “but you have to help me with my Spanish course; I need to keep my grades up.”

“Of course, I’ll do my best. Why did you take that class anyway? You’re horrible at it.”

“I thought it would be easy.”

“It’s not that hard. All the Spanish I know I learned from the soap operas I watched when I was 12 and I still know more that you. Though I know more insults than actual useful words, but whatever,” said Alex visibly relieved.

Lindsey fell silent and just looked at Alex as she was visually exploring the room for lost, important items.

“I feel like we had this conversation once or twice, don’t you?” asked Lindsey, looking out the window.

“Yeah, it sounds like it’s a bit repetitive. I forget stuff a lot,” said Alex.

“Not that. That conversation happens, at least, three times a day. I mean the one before that.”

“Yeah; we’re probably going to have it again and still not resolve anything. It’s a bit of a waste of words if you ask me. We’re not really settling anything and there is no ultimate right or wrong opinion; there is no winning or losing. And regardless, I think you can be an asshole hiding behind the shield of god or you can be good without any incentive.’

Lindsey thought about it for a moment and nodded.

“But what do we know? We’re just two college girls, nobody gives a shit what we think,” said Alex discouraged.

“Yeah,” said Lindsey with a hint of bitterness in her voice.

“I really have to go. I might just be reasonably late if I leave now,” said Alex with her hand on the doorknob. She turned and smiled at Lindsey, “bible Barbie”.

“Freak,” said Lindsey smiling back.

Alex closed the door and started running to her class.

Text: Lucia Morosanu
Images: weheartit.com/
Editing: Lucia Morosanu
Publication Date: 01-08-2014

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