a piece of cake

it all started with a piece of cake...
TEMPTATION! I KNEW IT! -you'd scream your mind connecting my first line with the ancient story of the first woman(bearing my name...what a coincidence!) and her first man.
but you would be wrong. as we often are when - due to our imptatience, axiety, urge to be in the limelight- point at connections that never existed in the head of the storyteller.

as i've told you. it all started with a piece of cake.
a piece of smudgy chocolate cake i was forced to eat for an extremely simple reason:
i was hungry.
I KNEW IT! YOU WERE HUNGRY FOR HIS LOVE! you would scream with joy feeling totally satisfied (and once again: wrong!) to have found the underlying connection between what i have to tell and what you want to hear.

IS THE CAKE SOMETHING SYMBOLIC? you would ask silently noticing the frown on my face, knowing that the 'hungry for love theory' is not exactly i would want to discuss with you.

no. it isnt. or maybe it is. the cake was sweet. smudgy-as i have already told you - falling into little pieces in my hands so that i have to push it into my mouth knowing that the crumbs will eventually cover me as well as the floor. i am the sweet-type. i would add silently, knowing it doesnt add to the story, neither it is relevant. there were tastless salty-biscuits too. but i didnt want them. i wanted something REAL.

at this point you -dear listener - would look at me gasping not understanding how REALNESS come to the story of a chocolate cake. and i woudl get embarrassed, turn around and ask you if you wanted a coffee.

this way you would never know anything about the things that happened
BEFORE
or
AFTER that piece of cake...