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24-12-2003, 18:41 | |
engelse versie voor een vriend van me:
I’m standing at the door, looking in. The room is dark, mysteriously lighted, with no windows and no lamp. Well, no working lamp anyway. A miserable bulb is attached to the ceiling, and somewhere very close to me there will undoubtedly be a light switch, but it’s of no use trying to find it, because the bulb, as well as the cord it’s hanging from looks like it’s never going to work the way it should anyway. The floor is a dirty block of cement, with holes in it every now and then. The walls, once white, are now a light kind of grey, with the plaster coming off at several spots. It fits the rest of the house, really. The infamous sixteen A is the old worn down building just a mile away from my place. It’s a big mansion, once owned by an old widow and her butler. But ever since the old woman past away and the butler left it has been unattended and rotting away. I turned it into my private playhouse, and sometimes it servers as shelter or hideout. I love it here, I love walking around in here, looking at the furniture, which is all still in the same exact spot it was the day that old lady died. And out of respect for her I will leave everything as it is, forever. Not only the furniture, mind you. Everything, everything I do, pick up, use in this house, everything is restored to its former place, exactly as it was before being used. It’s part of the magic. And it’s the reason I was stunned today, when I came here and saw the front door was unlocked, and the kitchen window had been opened. And now I’m upstairs, staring at a dark room, on the opposite side of which there is someone, or something, crouched on the floor… “I can’t take it anymore!” I scream in my mind. “Can’t take what anymore?!” “Life, beauty, darkness. I can’t stand you anymore. It hurts.” “It hurts? But I don’t hurt you, do I? I’m your friend.” “You force me, you force me to do things I don’t want to do. That isn’t friendship now, is it?! Didn’t you think I knew? You didn’t think I knew, right?! No, I’ve been on to you all along, from the very beginning! And I’m going to end it right now!” “What are you talking about, my friend?” “Go away! Get out of my head! You won’t control me anymore! From now on, I’ll do what I want!” He looks strange. His trunks are damaged and dirty, beige and oversized. His hips barely give enough support to keep them hanging on. His body has been trained, it’s strong and firm. His skin is pale, and he’s got strands of blonde hair covering his face. And no matter how hard I stare into the darkness, I can’t figure out why I can’t see his face. Or better yet, the profile of his face, for he is crouched up against the wall, his head hidden in a corner, on his knees, in a protective position. His white hands are on top of his head, and his face is hidden between his legs. He looks confused, hurt. Maybe because of something that happened a long time ago, in his childhood… “It hurts! It hurts…I just want peace, peace and quiet, enjoy the pretty things in life. I want to look out upon fields in which little girls jump rope and little boys play soccer. With a climbing frame on the background.” “And then what? Because you can, you know, you can see such things. They exist. Why don’t you go there? I won’t stop you, just like I wasn’t the one that brought you here” “Because I’m scared…” “Scared? You? Don’t make me laugh. Scared… Of what then? What do you see behind the frame?” “Nothing. There’s a school behind the frame, but it’s not about that. It’s all about the girl, climbing, smiling. Kids are playing, and I’m watching from a distance…” “And then what happens?” “That’s when I feel it again… That’s when my heart starts beating like mad again, and when my hands start itching. And then I fall to my knees, crawl into the ground with both hands. And right before the climbing frame disappears behind the hill I get one last glance of that girl, that little blonde girl that was happily spinning around the bars just a minute ago, her face shifting from smile to horror, her mouth filled with blood. And then I shiver with pleasure.” “But then what are you afraid of?!” the voice rumbles through my head. “Of you! You are the one that makes me do all these things, you are! I know that! But I don’t want it anymore, I don’t want it to happen anymore, and I’m going to end it now!” He just looked up, looked straight at me. It scared me, his face scared me, of which I could now see it is covered by a gasmask. I am now pressed up against the wall, barely daring to move. I hear him shuffling in the room next to me, hear him standing up and approaching the door. Do you think he saw me, and is going to hurt me now? I can hear his heavy breathing through the mask, and suddenly he steps around the corner. Without looking around he makes a right turn, and walks down the hall, passes the stares, straight on to the window at the end. “Now what are you going to do?” “Fly away. To the light.” “Fly away? Don’t be crazy. Feel your back for a second, will you? You don’t have wings, you can’t fly!” “I can in my dreams. And I’m dreaming. I’m always dreaming. That’s how I created you, I dreamt about you once…” “You’re crazy.” “Hey, look, a flower.” There’s a white flower right in front of me, with a yellow core. It looks like a huge daisy. I like it, I think it’s pretty. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” “You’re crazy. Absolutely mad. Not a sensible word can be made of your ramblings… Flying, flowers, what ARE you talking about?!” “It’s pretty”, I repeat myself, and my heart starts pounding like mad. “It’s so pretty, so light! My eyes have been opened, and my journey to heaven awaits…” And while I tell him that, I fall to my knees and throw off my mask. My life flashes before me, all the children, all the souls that I have hurt. They’re so beautiful, and they made my life worthwhile. But I don’t need them anymore, as I transcend to another life… “Goodbye”, I whisper, and I cease to exist… - - - Heb ik het goed vertaald? Of ligt de 'feel' heel anders? Feedback?
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I'd like to meet the man who invented SEX and see what he's working on now
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