a story of a fragmented self and a journey back to oneself
intro
There are some things… there is always something that a person cannot know. There is love that no one has ever heard of. There are squirrels and green paint in the top light of a traffic signal. These are the things that ultimately keep us alive. Some of these things are beautiful, others are not.
Some of these things touch us on a morning when we are supposed to give a long presentation at work about the fine stratification of polyhybrid layers, and all we want to do is grab the boss’s—or perhaps the madam’s—ear and lick it passionately until it flops down, completely wet, to the floor.
But the main thing is that these things keep us alive. We would want to do them every day, every moment, if only someone gave us permission. Milli Vanilli was given such permission. That morning, he walked the corners of Markus Street with a crumpled expression. He was pissed because he was supposed to be useful to himself and his society, but he didn’t feel like it. Such a state of mind, surely, all of us have experienced.
direction
History always traps you again. You wake up and can’t do anything but what you did yesterday. And the day before that. And all the days before that. A boyish voice sings from a CD you bought from a store (cheaply, even), and your life has once again slipped away.
You know you could do anything to reach your goal because it’s just waiting for you to fulfill it… but you just stand there. You stand even though you know you’re so right. Even though you see others fumbling around aimlessly.
beginning
“Grieekh!” cried the crow that flew over your head. You hadn’t seen it before and were excited that the food wasn’t gone after all. You walked to the edge of the sea and then along it, walking for a long time as if you just wanted to keep moving forward, sliding on the sand like a shipwrecked pigeon, one of those green ones. You shot the crow!
Suddenly, you appeared next to me in your blue-green clothes and smiled. What the hell are you doing next to me again, what the hell?!? Other people were watching through the window while I was kissing you all over. Kissing you all over, and I had never been more ashamed in my life—one of the two had to be chosen, either shame or freedom, and no sane, civilized person can bear freedom. It’s like… it’s like… freedom.
direction
All those people read, just read, and think they’re getting something as they peer into my soul and imagine they’ll find something one day. How could they, when I myself am somewhere on the open sea, just licking everything… Smile, dammit! It shouldn’t be too much to ask. Have you ever been beaten in a tunnel where no people can see you?
Have you been ransomed for children you’ve never even seen? Then you certainly know nothing about me, the child of lights. But beware when you enter my kingdom someday; I’ll show you the rest of the world, and you won’t be able to handle it… Are you scared? No, you’re not. You don’t believe yet.
story
Even those people who raised me must have felt as much as I do at some point. Felt the urge to love everyone and, at the same time, the unwillingness to feel for anyone. Felt the small flightless wings on their backs and, by fluttering, reached the place where they are now, the place where they dragged me as well. But there are no mistakes here! There are no mistakes in life, only millions and millions of paths. There’s a limit at infinity and perhaps a limit at negative infinity—but nothing in between! Nothing at all!
One of them will soon tell me that I should eat. That I should eat and move, or else I’ll stay this unwilling. Eat… and move! Why do you forget? Why? … This is my morning, this is my evening, but that silver spoon I thought I’d eat… a person has quite a few words in a day, if only… if only I could FLY and show them all to you, you uncivilized fools… Genius talk, is it? That’s not what you thought. You were on the verge of rage because I called you uncivilized, even though deep down you know it’s true. It could be you, or on the other hand, I could be the one eating the bagel that was in God’s mouth. Inside it is my lucky number. It could be you, or it could be me, or it could be them.
direction
Madness doesn’t exist; there are only people who know how to express their creativity in different ways, to be themselves in whatever way they wish. The man on the moon was a slave to his freedom, but I guess he knew something.