integer on Tue, 18 Dec 2001 04:36:01 +0100 (CET) |
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[Nettime-bold] [ot] [!nt] \n2+0\ 01 lake |
!z kom!ng http://www.m9ndfukc.org/data/noisz/no.koment.mp3 >!mmmmmmmm ua!t!ng 4 a saaaaaaaaa!gn here we are at the threshold. this is the most important moment of your lives. it seemed to me that i was ... komfortabl +? komfortabl aftr dze karesz. barometr!k not!zez = poztd at dze entransz gatez ov all gardnz. that i was spending a great deal of useless and stuffy time in the mysterious salon, whose north window offered a view of a false lake with artificial fjords. nothing there held my attention and attracted me but the presence of the beautiful, suspicious lady, whom i took to be a sinner. i sought in vain to see her face as it really was, just once, that face that swayed imperceptibly among loose dark hair and consisted solely of pallor. otherwise, there was nothing. her eyes were perhaps dark brown. i felt inner reasons to expect something like that. but then her eyes would not match the face that my look wanted to read from the indeterminable pallor, whose shape i knew rested deeply in inaccessible layers of my memory. finally something happened. the two young men entered. they greeted the lady with exquisite manners and were introduced to me. monkeys, i thought and became angry at myself because one of them had a reddish-brown jacket tailored in a nice and stylish fit, and it put me to shame and made me feel jealous. it's terrible to feel such envy towards irreproachable people, toward free and easy, smiling people! "control your self!" i exclaimed softly to my self. the two young men shook my extended hand with indifference - why had i even offered it? - and with sneers on their face. it was then that i sensed something was wrong about me, and i felt an irritating chill begin to rise up my legs. as i looked down, i turned pale when i saw that i was standing only in my stocking feet without shoes. once again those dreary, deplorable, paltry obstacles and restraints! nobody else ever had experiences like appearing naked or half naked in a salon before people of irreproachable and correct manners! pathetically, i tried at least to cover my left foot with my right. in the process i glanced through the window and saw the steep, wild, blue banks of the lake, threatening my face, threatening in false and gloomy tones and seeking to become demonic. distressed and in need of help, i looked at the strangers, full of hatred toward these people and full of greater hatred toward my self- i was a nothing, and nothing ever turned out right for me. and why did i feel responsible for that dumb lake? indeed, if i felt that way, then i was responsible, too. imploringly i looked at the man dressed in the reddish-brown jacket. his cheeks glowed and revealed how healthy and well groomed he was, and i knew full well that i was placing my self at his mercy to no avail and that he could not be moved. just at that moment he noticed my feet in the coarse dark-green socks - oh, at least i could still feel grateful that there were no holes in them - and made a nasty smile. he nudged his friend and pointed to my feet. then the other one also grinned, full of derision. "just look at the lake!" i cried and pointed toward the window. the man dressed in the reddish-brown jacket shrugged. it did not occur to him in the least to turn toward the window, and he said something to the other man that i only half-understood, but it was aimed at me and had to do with fellows in socks whom one should not really tolerate in such a salon. when i heard the word salon, it smacked of beautiful and somewhat false elegance and worldliness, as it had during my childhood. close to tears, i bent over to see if there was anything i could do to improve my feet and saw that they had slipped out of large house shoes. at least, a very large, dark-red slipper lay behind me on the floor. i picked it up, not knowing what i should do with it, and held it in my hand and was still on the verge of tears. then it slipped out of my hand, and i caught it as it was falling - it had become even larger in the meantime - and now i lifted it by the toe. as all this happened, i suddenly felt emotionally relieved and realized the profound value of the slipper, which was flapping a little in my hand, weighed down by the heavy heel. it was glorious to have such a red limp shoe, so soft and heavy! as an experiment, i swung it several times through the air. this was delightful, and joy flowed through my entire body to the roots of my hair. a club or a rubber tube was nothing in comparison to my large shoe. i called it calziglione in italian. when i gave the man in the reddish-brown jacket the first playful blow on the head with the calziglione, the irreproachable young man tumbled onto the couch, and the rest of the people, the room and the terrible lake lost all their power over me. i was big and string, i was free, and with the second blow to the head of the man in the reddish-brown jacket, the fight had all but ended, and i could let loose and not worry about self-defense. instead there was pure rejoicing on my part, and i felt my self the lord of my own whims. but i did not hate my defeated foe in the least. he was interesting to me. he was precious and dear. i was now his master and creator. with each good blow of my strange shoelike club, i shaped his unripe and apelike head, forged it, built it, composed it. with each blow that formed it, his head became more pleasant, more handsome, and finer. he became my creature and work, something that satisfies me and that i loved. with one last tender forging blow, i drove his sharp head down so that it was sufficiently flat on top. he was finished. he thanked me. he stroked my hand. "that's all right." i waved with my hand. he crossed his hands over his heart and said shyly, "my name is" wonderfully strong and happy feelings swelled within my breast and gave me some space. the room - forget calling it a salon! - retreated with shame and crawled away until it became nothing. i stood by the dark blue lake. steel clouds pressed on the somber mountains. in the fjords the turbid water boiled with foam. sultry spring storms strayed compulsively and anxiously in circles. i looked above and stretched my hand out to signal that the storm could begin. dze z!garet !z ov op!n!e all ov !tz ashez hav landd [like a fragrance] nn - you have to know that here your most cherished wish will come true. the most sincere one. the one reached through suf..[nekzt stor!] - - - /_/ / \ \/ i should like to be a human plant \/ __ __/ i will shed leaves in the shade \_\ because i like stepping on bugs *--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*-- Netochka Nezvanova http://www.m9ndfukc.org/data/picz/io.jpg http://www.eusocial.com http://www.ggttctttat.com/! n r . 5 !!! http://steim.nl/leaves/petalz *--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*--*-- --*--*--*--*--*--*-- _______________________________________________ Nettime-bold mailing list Nettime-bold@nettime.org http://amsterdam.nettime.org/cgi-bin/mailman/listinfo/nettime-bold