There are less and less spoken words each day, because currently each sentence lacks of meaning or I just don’t get it. So it better remains unspoken, before they even lose more meaning. I’ve grown very detached from conversations; therefore I’m not looking forward to going to doctor’s this morning. He will talk everything that makes sense to him, which however will have no meaning to me or my perception. I need a REAL teacher. I hope today’s going to be my last visit. Well, it IS going to be my last visit. Just want to go and tell him that I quit the tablets about three months ago and that I’m uhh doing fine.  What does he care anyway… There is just one thing that bothers me. I have trouble breathing again. Shall I go check for asthma (again?!)? I remember back in England I went to the doctor’s three times just to check whether my lungs were alright and each time my doctor said that I was fine. That was when she presumed that I was suffering from panic attacks. I couldn’t tell at that time, because I’d never had those before, not until I was 22. Back then, I got pulled asunder and this is how I’ve put myself back together. I wouldn’t say that I’m suffering from panic attacks now, because I’m quite relaxed. At least I think so. Hope so.
How come only I can see how I’ve aged? A freckled worn out face, thin hair that lacks of volume and weird body curves.  Ah yes, I’m no longer 21, I forgot. I will remember next time.
Have you ever noticed that silence doesn’t exist? It’s in your imagination. Peace doesn’t exist either. Tranquility or quietude…all an illusion. Nevertheless, we see it as some kind of a condition. To Simon and Garfunkel silence is the biggest disturbance ever, it creates tension and interrupts. It’s like thousands of words exploding in your head, but nobody knows except you. But to me silence is still waters that run deep.
Last week I ate an old peach. After three bites the whole core broke in half. First I noticed the mould in the core and then the earwig, which appeared to be dead. At that time I hadn’t quite realized what was happening, until I suddenly saw its antennae moving. It was alive. So I put the peach back down on the plate and wondered whether I should put my finger down the throat or simply scream. In the end I did none of that. I was trying to divert myself by thinking of the dead animals that I eat. They surely screamed. Also I was thinking of people in China who eat insects, so in a way it is actually normal. At the very end it was just pointless for me to scream or feel disgusted. I would have another peach now, but fresh please.

My latest story is exactly 4000 words long. My syntax and style are original, but they don’t make sense to many people. It was the same at university, so I don’t want to know what it reads like now, because I’ve not been speaking English and I’ve not been reading many English books lately. So it is obvious that I need to get back into writing fiction. The latest story “The bystanders” deals with the bystander effect – simply watching people getting hurt whilst doing nothing but watch. And yes it was inspired by my biggest comic hero (even bigger than Batman now). It’s always the ruthless anti-heroes, who do this to me. Their mystery and torment are so intriguing that I immediately fall in love. So I start romanticizing about those who try to hide their identities and then fantasize about them opening themselves up to me, only to me. Showing me what it is like to be trusted, because I don’t know. Many real life people don’t tell me much. But then I’ve always been the one who refused to be the best friend. I’m drifting away from the topic… Well, certain comic fans will probably hate my story, because “my” Rorschach compromises for love. I have actually ruined his ideal and purpose. But in the comic Rorschach talks about lust and sex, he watches how a naked couple is about to make love and he had an obscene dream about his mother amalgamating with a man during sex and he had dirty feelings. If this information doesn’t imply something, then I don’t know. I know he was able to love, that’s all. I wasn’t necessarily trying to change him.
Weird noises outside. Makes it hard to sleep with windows open. I try to avoid going to bed at 4am, because at this time there would always be two crazy drivers around. One of them would stop outside my neighbour’s house for a while and the other would dash from one drive to the other. Never actually saw him coming into our drive. Still scary. Then another night I heard a man scream. It was hard to figure out whether it was a scream of pain or what. There was no second scream, though. I just don’t want to hear those two cars tonight.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *