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Monday, 7 November 2005

completing your sentences

it was early in the summer of 2005.

once again i am resisting what the universe is offering me.

if my weekend started on friday evening, it was an exceptional weekend. i like my solitude, yet i was among a lot of people this weekend, and for a while i forgot my own existence, i observed, i told stories, and i did not really go into details. the stories were my stories, they are always really, my imagination is too weak to go into the fantastic. i ended up totally confused as to what it is that i am doing these days.

i can play the role of the entertainer, the one who can tell something that to me is banal, and make it sound somehow interesting, that one is the entertainer. yet, what is  on my mind now is that sentence from berlin: it is time to get rid of the bitterness, just get rid of the bitterness. yes, it is bitter, and i do not like bitterness, like i do not like sweetness; i like the bland, the neutral, the unspectacular. i am very tired of playing roles, and i am even more tired of being interesting.

on friday evening i was not playing a role, or was i? my friend, the historian, and i went through a quick update of our lives during the past few months, and a bottle of wine was our victim. saturday morning was tough, but then i wanted to go to geneva, so i did. geneva always reminds me of istanbul for some odd reason. it is a place where i feel at home, and it is a place that reminds me of how very foreign i remain to it all. no, i do not like feeling the blues today, and i am feeling the blues today. there was a time when i loved the blues, not today. oh, the satanic power of fear! it has me today, and i do not want to surrender.

what did we talk about on friday evening that brought tears to my eyes?

that humans manage to fall out of relationship is to me no surprise, what surprises me is that we humans can form long lasting loving relationships. so, is it fear, or is pain, or is it both now?

still, last night when i returned to the pied-à-terre, having forgotten all about my struggles, having been spoiled by my friends, i felt that all was complete, and that i could again fall in love with every tumbleweed on my path. this morning i was the tumbleweed, and i could not fall in love with myself. i really do not like this type of pain, but then, i like no kind of pain.

you asked me to tell you a bit more about myself. the first time i saw you, my first thought was that i had no thoughts at all. time stopped, and three hours later, it was time to go in different directions. do you remember?

in the wonder of this life, i do not know how to talk about myself. in fact, i never talk about myself, i sometimes tell stories, and rarely, if ever, do i tell a story twice in the same way. it is all about me, and it is never about myself.

in our brief passage on this complicit world, all that there is, is a soft whisper of experience. these days i experience need. i meet wonderful tumble weeds all over, tumbleweeds dressed as neat trees, with some pretense of anchoring to the earth, yet all tumbling. what is it like when two tumbleweeds interlace their dry branches? why is it so difficult to just be a naked tumbleweed?

there is something that i like here. whatever the experience of the past few months has been, it leaves me at a new point in life, and once again, and with new vigor, i can say that i do not know. truly, i do not know. yes, i am going back to my offline world, and when i reemerge, will you be here?

what was it that you wrote? i complete your sentences, and i do not even notice that i am doing that. i read what you write, hear the sound of your voice, and i have the sensation of understanding every word, every sentence, and every pregnant pause. fear has me. i feel reckless, and i know it is not in my hands, it never was. i failed control, and fear knows it.

in researching "schemata" i came across a book that i had to read: H. P. Lovecraft.

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