Your whisper is fast and silent. Those are newsreaders.
A fire seen through the window of the summer kitchen. Flies dying slowly on a sticky flytrap ribbon. Shadows moving on the walls and ceiling, the light stopped in the orner with the gas counter.
Two windows of our house, one opposite the other one, and the neighbors in their house can be seen through two of these windows.
The fire throwing sparkles high into the sky. The fire goes along and through the thin branches of grass – and I remember veins. Endless motion.
The sound of apples falling down from trees in the garden. It proves the law of gravity.
There could be lots more of undone pictures. But it was already time to go home.
Bushes – what’s behind them? A village graveyard – not decorated with monuments and all that stuff, but even more beautiful than all well-known and outstanding ones. The forest reveals the light of the big angry city. Signs limiting permissiveness. The limits are sth bad – but these are ones to protect. A sign with a number in the middle of the highway – what fuck is it doing here? A stone wall with a lonely light on it – it is there for somebody.
The transparent moon with a blue shade – I saw it rising when I was still there. And, maybe, My German Prince was looking at it from the other side… Or else why could that moon be blue? Of course – because it is swimming in the blue eyes of My German Prince!
And our looks cross on this moon. His – so innocent and kind, and mine - of unnaturally green eyes without makeup. The looks cross with some angle and information is being passed by them.
Listening to hard rock. Associations are being recorded on everything – the lines on the road, and, of course, electricity wires. I don’t know why, but they attract me. I have liked them for a long time. It is being recorded even on the wires that pass the music from the mobile phone to my ears.
The darkness is sometimes interrupted by light – it’s ok when the light comes from a yard or a house. It is worse when the big city breaks the talk of the inside world and the fairytale.
These 95 kilometers. The German Prince and I are going thete in the evening. We stop the car and take pics of everything that interests us. And, of course, of ourselves near these things. The memory is not endless, and we try to upload the pics to my laptop straight in the car. Laughing – as we don’t want to turn the light on. It was the silence of darkness that invited us to our trip. And we have our own light – the light of his eyes.
Sitting near the road touching the soft fur of a cute gray mouse. Maybe, it is like us – got out into the perfect world? There are no many cars, but all the drivers stare at us while passing by. What? They can do the same, it’s not sth illegal.
There are no words in the air – neither Ukrainian, nor Engish, nor German. I touch the pale face with my cheek. I let our cells change information. I accidentally bother them by av careless move of eyelashes. And he smiles.
We are looking at the moon. And it is becoming bluer. I can see it reflecting in the same blue eyes.
No one would break the virginity of the moon even with a dirty or obscene thought. We are looking at souls communicating at the cemetery. We smile to the ones we don’t know – because they smile at us too.
No one should pass without being noticed. No makeup. No need of German-Ukrainian translation. It’s a forbidden territory. Only we have the documents that allow entry to our imaginary castle.
… - Orchid, are you here? Why don’t you answer? Are you asleep?
- No, sorry. Just thinking.
- Tired?
- Not really. I have to write. Or else the thought will explode and fill the empty space…
29 – 30 September 2007. 19.00 – 00.51
Two windows of our house, one opposite the other one, and the neighbors in their house can be seen through two of these windows.
The fire throwing sparkles high into the sky. The fire goes along and through the thin branches of grass – and I remember veins. Endless motion.
The sound of apples falling down from trees in the garden. It proves the law of gravity.
There could be lots more of undone pictures. But it was already time to go home.
Bushes – what’s behind them? A village graveyard – not decorated with monuments and all that stuff, but even more beautiful than all well-known and outstanding ones. The forest reveals the light of the big angry city. Signs limiting permissiveness. The limits are sth bad – but these are ones to protect. A sign with a number in the middle of the highway – what fuck is it doing here? A stone wall with a lonely light on it – it is there for somebody.
The transparent moon with a blue shade – I saw it rising when I was still there. And, maybe, My German Prince was looking at it from the other side… Or else why could that moon be blue? Of course – because it is swimming in the blue eyes of My German Prince!
And our looks cross on this moon. His – so innocent and kind, and mine - of unnaturally green eyes without makeup. The looks cross with some angle and information is being passed by them.
Listening to hard rock. Associations are being recorded on everything – the lines on the road, and, of course, electricity wires. I don’t know why, but they attract me. I have liked them for a long time. It is being recorded even on the wires that pass the music from the mobile phone to my ears.
The darkness is sometimes interrupted by light – it’s ok when the light comes from a yard or a house. It is worse when the big city breaks the talk of the inside world and the fairytale.
These 95 kilometers. The German Prince and I are going thete in the evening. We stop the car and take pics of everything that interests us. And, of course, of ourselves near these things. The memory is not endless, and we try to upload the pics to my laptop straight in the car. Laughing – as we don’t want to turn the light on. It was the silence of darkness that invited us to our trip. And we have our own light – the light of his eyes.
Sitting near the road touching the soft fur of a cute gray mouse. Maybe, it is like us – got out into the perfect world? There are no many cars, but all the drivers stare at us while passing by. What? They can do the same, it’s not sth illegal.
There are no words in the air – neither Ukrainian, nor Engish, nor German. I touch the pale face with my cheek. I let our cells change information. I accidentally bother them by av careless move of eyelashes. And he smiles.
We are looking at the moon. And it is becoming bluer. I can see it reflecting in the same blue eyes.
No one would break the virginity of the moon even with a dirty or obscene thought. We are looking at souls communicating at the cemetery. We smile to the ones we don’t know – because they smile at us too.
No one should pass without being noticed. No makeup. No need of German-Ukrainian translation. It’s a forbidden territory. Only we have the documents that allow entry to our imaginary castle.
***
… - Orchid, are you here? Why don’t you answer? Are you asleep?
- No, sorry. Just thinking.
- Tired?
- Not really. I have to write. Or else the thought will explode and fill the empty space…
29 – 30 September 2007. 19.00 – 00.51