Maybe if I would have drunk coffee in my student years I would have become smarter. I would be able to concentrate better, be less tired and have more energy. It’s a pity I’ve deprived this from myself. I should have done all these things that people recommend rather than try to do the right thing. I have almost missed out but at the last moment I’ve found my rebellious way to self fulfillment. However, I haven’t found it entirely yet but I will, I’m sure I will; maybe coffee will help me with the quest.
On a Friday night Ruby and her partner Zach, Miriam, Miriam’s best friend Lea and her husband Noah drink Kiddush wine. They brought all their own food, plastic plates, cups and cutlery. They are a group of orthodox jews from Melbourne. When Ruby’s father's University friend visited Melbourne in winter he invited all of them to come and stay with him and his family in Adelaide during the WomAdelaide festival. They appreciated the idea.
Ruby and Zach really wanted to go to womAdelaide. In order for a young religious couple to go on holidays together before marriage they need to find a married couple to chaperon them. Lea and her partner just got married the previous week so it was a perfect arrangement. Miriam just tagged along as the matchmaker between the two couples.
“It’s time for desert” says Miriam when they are done with dinner. “Did you bring it?” she asks Lea. “Baked and ready to be swallowed! All the way from Melbs. A pretty dodgy event dragging it on the plane and all.” Lea pulls out of her bag a box of squashed muffins. On a first look they seem rather old yet harmless. However, when one looks more carefully one understands.
Just then the lady and gentleman of the house enter the room. It is a hippie couple; the man has a long beard and is wearing a blue and white flannel shirt with square patterns. His partner has curls that reach the centre of her back, her hair is asymmetrical. She is wearing baggy white trousers and a slightly dirty beige hemp shirt. “Desert ha?!” says the lady host giggling, “Can I have one of your magic deserts please?” She turns to the host, “ha look at this honey, those sweet kids brought us hash cakes from Melbourne!”
Five young people all look down to the floor at once. They don’t realize that in hippie houses hash is OK. “It’s alright guys. I’m older than you yet I still like to have fun. When I was your age…” She looks at Lea and starts counting the times she got stoned with or without her parents. She convinces them that it’s alright, that she approves of their hash cakes; and the party starts.
The lady host and the guests eat the cakes together. “I wish I could eat forever, I never want to stop eating. The taste in my mouth is vivid and soothing, I just want to have more and more of it, I won’t feel full until I stop eating for at least five minutes in a row.” Miriam often says random things like that. “Take it easy with the H cakes girl, you don’t want to transform into a transformer, do you?!” Says the lady host.
The gentleman host is a quiet type. Whenever he says something everyone listens as he hardly ever says anything. His son Ruben resembles him; he is the quiet-alive type. Nevertheless, Ruben is not a hippie, definitely not. He is a regular guy. While growing up among hippies he always wanted to be just a regular guy. That explains why he manages a mainstream bar in town. He drinks mainstream beer, has mainstream friends and mainstream clothes. However, he is open to ‘different’ people as long as they respect him as a regular guy, as long as they don’t try to change him.
Ruben comes to the chilling room about an hour and a half after the space cakes have been eaten. The two young orthodox couples and the one friend ate a space cake each. His father’s partner ate one piece too. Now, Ruben can only converse with the one sober person in the room, his father. At the same time Miriam is telling a story to all the attendants, it is impossible to ignore her:
“A month ago the library in which I work, on the next suburb after St Kilda, sent me to Hermannsburg for one month in order to research the Hermannsburg school of art, and bring back study material about the subject.
In Hermannsburg I met the Aboriginal family Daniels. Harry Daniels is the father; he is a big man, joyful and kind. He chatted to me often and provided valuable information about the watercolor style of painting. In any case, the real star of watercolor painting is Jeremy Daniels – the son. Jeremy is a 23 year old boy; I have never met someone as shy. He never says a full sentence; most of the time his parents have to talk on his behalf. He too is a big fellow, like his father. He wears black clothes, long black trousers and a black T-shirt although the temperatures in Hermannsburg are extremely hot. He constantly looks down to the floor. He never looks in the eyes of someone else.
Harry told me that Jeremy is slack, that he gets out of bed at 2pm. I asked Harry whether Jeremy goes out as chaps of his age do. Harry said that he doesn’t- it didn’t surprise me. Jeremy looks like a young boy who hasn’t left his shell yet and needs shaking up. “He needs someone to show him how to have a good time” Harry said. I volunteered immediately. So it happened that Jeremy was allowed to accompany me back to Melbourne for one week. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but a few beers will do the trick ha?! I took Jeremy to Melbourne, introduced him to my gay and lesbian friends...”
At this point Ruben was the only one listening. The host had to drag his wife out of the room as she started to make funny faces, which embarrassed him. Ruby, Zack, Lea and Noah sneaked out of the room. By now they were staring at the stars on the back deck.
Ruben: “Hey Miriam, I’d love to hear the end of this story, but lets go out to the front deck” He knew that religious people are less open to physical contact than ‘normal people’ like him, however he lay his arm around her shoulders anyway. She responded well to his gesture and put her arm behind his waist; they walked outside.
Where does she get these hallucinations from? There’s no way she has gay and lesbian friends and it’s impossible that she had gone clubbing with an aboriginal boy. She’s got vivid imagination this girl. Ruben wondered to himself.
By now Ruben was pretty drunk, he has been drinking since 12 in the afternoon. He did not try to see things from Miriam’s perspective. They walked outside; she kept on talking about a wild party on a harboring boat, about her getting drunk in the boat, “but that is normal” she says. Seemingly the aboriginal boy Jeremy got drunk too at that party, “He still didn’t make full sentences but he finally looked up. At some point, Jeremy the giant goes and sits on the lap of a random girl who is seated on a chair and is facing the dance floor. He sits down in front of her and faces her face while I am watching all this happening. I go and drag him off her. Jeremy gets up slowly. He looks at me, approaches me and then he sticks his tongue in my mouth! I have kissed an aboriginal boy Ruben!” She says while shocked from her own words.
She is quite attractive this little orthodox Miriam. I wouldn’t mind tasting her tongue too and feel her warmth at the same time. Ruben is not preoccupied by cultural differences. He thinks and acts simultaneously. He turns his face to Miriam, grabs her palm and caresses it. She does not object. He then pulls her towards him and kisses her. They sit down on the stairs and make out. The child of god is being touched everywhere. This goes on for about 30 minutes. Suddenly, without prior notice Miriam pushes Ruben away and stands up. Pail and silent she walks away.
Miriam is perturbed by her own deeds. Although it is late at night she goes for a walk in the park across the road. There she has a revelation, god talks to her. God appears as an aboriginal boy. He tells her about the real and only truth:
Deep inside a person’s body, in a profound spot in the chest lives the biblical figure Eve. Eve represents the purity of life before social conventions were invented, before humans set goals to their existence, before communities were created and before humans had obligations. Eve is most of the time enclosed in ones body. She cannot get out. Because she is kicking internal organs and screaming in the hollow of the body we feel pain. Only from time to time when we loose ourselves, eat space cakes or run in wild nature, Eve gets to breathe real air. She gets a glimpse at her initial life, the way it was millions of years ago when god planed life for women. When Eve gets a moment of freedom her host human body and brain get to see real life.
After god’s speech Miriam is so overwhelmed that she runs back to the house and tries to sleep. She doesn’t know how to deal with the latest events and decides not to think about it. The entire night she pushes away any thought that comes to mind about Ruben or about Eve.
The next morning arrives quickly. Mornings can be challenging. Miriam does not want to get out of bed, she cannot forgive herself. She didn’t sleep very well, it must have been the after effect of the cake. She has touched a boy before a wedding, touched him all over, Ruben from all guys. A simple ozi, a drinking barman goy! She remembers the event of the previous night very well, she wishes she could forget.
She remembers Eve too. What did this Aboriginal god want to tell her? That she needs to let Eve breathe? But how? Will god forgive her for her sins?
At the breakfast table Ruben smiles to her, she does not smile back. When she gets up and leaves the table Ruben follows her, “Miriam, I enjoyed last night with you. I liked your story about the Aboriginal boy”. He wants to hug her but doesn’t.
What could he do to win her heart? Yes, he should use biblical references. Miriam will have affinity with this type of argumentation. He takes a deep breath and tries to look in her eyes again, “Miriam, we could be like Adam and Eve - pure and without baggage. We could start something between two people, you and me, the rest will come later.”
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
The camel farm
I went to have a look at the camel farm in Ilparpa, NT. Later that day I talked to a camel lover about the place. Here the story she told me:
Once upon a time that camel farm had a camel gallery. In the gallery they used to sell products made out of camel: camel milk, camel meat, rugs, scarves, sweaters and baby cloths made out of camel fur, and also little carved figures made out of camel teeth.
This all sounds pretty hideous I know, but the worth was that a British witch was managing the gallery. The witch’s father was a former prisoner in Great Britain who was deported to Australia out of pity. His little girl who was born in the British prison grew up in Australia around released prisoners. The girl never met her mother and became a witch at a very young age.
The little girl arrived to Australia with her father when she was 11. Her father and his mates overtook a farm in Ilparpa in a violent action. They came in on horses and brutally, with weapons they smuggled out of Britain, killed almost all humans on the farm. There was one young woman who survived the massacre; she was the queen of Ilpalpa. The British convicts did not care about Ilparpa’s monarchy of course, nevertheless they let the queen live and turned her into their slave. Since that day her life became miserable. The former prisoner - the witch’s dad, used to rape her on a regular basis until she fell pregnant.
Camels used to be mustered in that farm. Back in the days when the witch was a teenager the farm used to grow camels for meat only. The witch killed many camels in her life. The taste of camel meat was the only meat taste she knew.
When the British witch became old, she was wealthy enough to start a camel gallery on her premises. It was something she always wanted to do. If to kill the camels one might as well use them entirely - their fur, teeth and milk. It was within her mentality to use things. She did not only use camels, she also used her half sister, the princess of Ilparpa. Although the princess of Ilparpa was born to Ilparpa’s queen, she was treated like a slave since she was born; her destiny was identical to her mother’s since the occupation.
When the princess grew up and the gallery opened the princess worked with the witch at the camel gallery. The witch was ugly from outside and from inside. She had fake teeth and a big belly. The princess however was beautiful and charming, shy and gentle. Her skin was white and tender like a cloud in summer, her eyes were soft and green like grass after the rain and her hair was covering her neck in endless waves. The witch ordered the princess around, humiliated her in every opportunity and took advantage of her authority.
A gallery exhibition was planed for the first of May. The princess scrubbed the floors on her knees and carried heavy items inside and outside of the gallery. At night she would lie down with blisters on her feet and a swollen spine, but she was excited about the exhibition. At last she will meet people! The witch will need her help and will be busy enough to let the princess talk to the people of Ilparpa.
The exhibition night arrives. Ilparpa’s artists and farmers are walking around the gallery. There are about 60 people in the small gallery. The witch is wearing a navy blue skirt and a white, Britsh, buttoned shirt. She throws around smiles and tells lies to everyone as she always does. She tells people how hard she has worked, how much she cares for the camels and how her father worked hard to purchase the farm.
In the meanwhile a young aboriginal boy sneaks into the gallery. He looks at the witch and then at the princess, looks at the witch again, then at the princess. The princess smiles to him tenderly. He smiles back and runs towards the witch who starts shouting: “murderer! Murderer!” The boy reaches the witch and pulls her skirt down.
The witch is standing there in her white underwear, which instantly becomes wet - she had wet her undies. The guests are quiet; they are looking at her overwhelmed. She tries to pull up her skirt yet with no luck, the skirt is torn. She finally gives up, releases herself from the skirt, and shouts, “You pathetic primitives, you all stink!” she runs out of the gallery, slams the door of her four wheel drive and disappears. Her face is never seen again in the central desert of Australia.
Once upon a time that camel farm had a camel gallery. In the gallery they used to sell products made out of camel: camel milk, camel meat, rugs, scarves, sweaters and baby cloths made out of camel fur, and also little carved figures made out of camel teeth.
This all sounds pretty hideous I know, but the worth was that a British witch was managing the gallery. The witch’s father was a former prisoner in Great Britain who was deported to Australia out of pity. His little girl who was born in the British prison grew up in Australia around released prisoners. The girl never met her mother and became a witch at a very young age.
The little girl arrived to Australia with her father when she was 11. Her father and his mates overtook a farm in Ilparpa in a violent action. They came in on horses and brutally, with weapons they smuggled out of Britain, killed almost all humans on the farm. There was one young woman who survived the massacre; she was the queen of Ilpalpa. The British convicts did not care about Ilparpa’s monarchy of course, nevertheless they let the queen live and turned her into their slave. Since that day her life became miserable. The former prisoner - the witch’s dad, used to rape her on a regular basis until she fell pregnant.
Camels used to be mustered in that farm. Back in the days when the witch was a teenager the farm used to grow camels for meat only. The witch killed many camels in her life. The taste of camel meat was the only meat taste she knew.
When the British witch became old, she was wealthy enough to start a camel gallery on her premises. It was something she always wanted to do. If to kill the camels one might as well use them entirely - their fur, teeth and milk. It was within her mentality to use things. She did not only use camels, she also used her half sister, the princess of Ilparpa. Although the princess of Ilparpa was born to Ilparpa’s queen, she was treated like a slave since she was born; her destiny was identical to her mother’s since the occupation.
When the princess grew up and the gallery opened the princess worked with the witch at the camel gallery. The witch was ugly from outside and from inside. She had fake teeth and a big belly. The princess however was beautiful and charming, shy and gentle. Her skin was white and tender like a cloud in summer, her eyes were soft and green like grass after the rain and her hair was covering her neck in endless waves. The witch ordered the princess around, humiliated her in every opportunity and took advantage of her authority.
A gallery exhibition was planed for the first of May. The princess scrubbed the floors on her knees and carried heavy items inside and outside of the gallery. At night she would lie down with blisters on her feet and a swollen spine, but she was excited about the exhibition. At last she will meet people! The witch will need her help and will be busy enough to let the princess talk to the people of Ilparpa.
The exhibition night arrives. Ilparpa’s artists and farmers are walking around the gallery. There are about 60 people in the small gallery. The witch is wearing a navy blue skirt and a white, Britsh, buttoned shirt. She throws around smiles and tells lies to everyone as she always does. She tells people how hard she has worked, how much she cares for the camels and how her father worked hard to purchase the farm.
In the meanwhile a young aboriginal boy sneaks into the gallery. He looks at the witch and then at the princess, looks at the witch again, then at the princess. The princess smiles to him tenderly. He smiles back and runs towards the witch who starts shouting: “murderer! Murderer!” The boy reaches the witch and pulls her skirt down.
The witch is standing there in her white underwear, which instantly becomes wet - she had wet her undies. The guests are quiet; they are looking at her overwhelmed. She tries to pull up her skirt yet with no luck, the skirt is torn. She finally gives up, releases herself from the skirt, and shouts, “You pathetic primitives, you all stink!” she runs out of the gallery, slams the door of her four wheel drive and disappears. Her face is never seen again in the central desert of Australia.
About mozzies and looking for things
My ankle bracelet fell of my leg. I can remember the moment, it fell on the floor and I was in a rush. I put it in a safe place while conscious that it will be hard to find later on, but ‘at least it’s safe’ I thought. A few days later I couldn't find it anymore.
So how come mozzies always find me? I hide under a blanket and can hear the most annoying buzz near my ear. Big things cannot find little things yet little things can easily find big things.
And why the hell do they go for the ankle? Is the blood sweater there ?
Mozzies favor the most annoying spots: ankles (you can’t really scratch there because the round ‘marble’ is in the way), feet palms (this actually hurt!) and eyelids (you look like you've been fighting!). Not to say that getting bitten in other places is not super SUPER annoying too.
However, let’s try and look at it from another point of view:
Hello and nice to meet you! My name is Annoyzzie. My pleasure in life is to eat. I prefer raw blood that does not contain meat (I am almost vegetarian). I love to bite stretched skin. The softer and the more transparent, the more divine. That explains why my preferred food is found in newborns. Thereafter I like young ladies, and finally (if there’s nothing better around) I’d eat old ladies' blood. In any case, I love food so much (and depend on it obviously) that I’ll have anyone.
Sometimes when my friends are around I really go crazy for food! I’ll eat anything, and quickly, just like humans. I go from one chunk of skin to the other almost without stopping. I am not afraid to get noxious or sick, or even to die. Some of my best friends have died from being determined to eat during our gatherings. Many times they have died because their lust drove them rather than cautiousness.
I am however glad to be a mozzie. I see other bugs that have to fight for their food and me – my biggest effort is to have to sneak in through a mozzie net. If I am successful in that I get food, as much as I want, especially at night time. Actually my absolute preferred time of the day is when the sun sets, the sky is beautiful then and I always go out.
As you can see I enjoy food yet I also like music, a lot! After all, what’s life without music? The music I prefer is experimental – beep & buzz. It’s the kind of experimental/abstract compositions that entertain the musician, less so the listener. I enjoy the process of what I am doing with this type of music; it is not my goal to please the listeners. However, if I enjoy it maybe they will appreciate my serious attitude towards my music too.
I am actually not sure what the public thinks of my beeps & buzzes although my parents taught me to think positive. I don’t believe humans really like it. They’ve tried to slap me several times and it didn’t feel like a friendly pat or anything (not like what they would do to their horses, cats and dogs).
Ants
My name is Antseverywhere but people call me Anthere. In my culture people have to work hard, like in China. I work to provide food for myself and for my family. This is all that matters. My parents taught me about the values of labor . Their parents taught them the same things and it has been going on for generations. The principle of my work is to follow my tribe and spread widely. We feed from anything that is nutritious. We are not spoiled, not at all. It can be fresh food on the counter, leftovers on a dirty plate, crumbs or even human or animal’s fluids.
We normally preach for peace, however we will bite if we feel in danger (though this only happens rarely ). Therefore I don’t really understand why we are not popular among humans. My dad says they don’t like us because we are everywhere. They think they can just step on us and our houses, but we will not be defeated!
Sometimes, when I walk back and forth from the rubbish bin in the kitchen to my home, while humans are cooking, I meet Annoyzzie. We have introduced ourselves to each other. Each one of us has a different purpose in life: he is dependent on human skin and I need leftovers, so we’re not competing or anything.
We’re both small and black. I am nevertheless quite jealous at Annoyzzie for his ability to fly although of course if I could fly I wouldn't just wonder in the air; I will work towards optimizing my food resources.
We greet each other all the time now. Annoyzzie flies above my head and chitchats while I’m working. We talk about the pleasure of eating and about human culture which is alien to us. Annoyzzie says he both hates and loves humans. It makes me laugh; he is totally dependent on them yet they must hate him.
In fact, this kitchen has become his home. Three humans are coming and going to this kitchen regularly. He prefers the blood of the females, “it is sweet and juicy” he says.
One day Annoyzzie tells me “Hey, Anthere, what about resting for a minute on the counter? There’s a beautiful red piece of meat just there. We can hang out together for a few minutes, what do you say?” I don’t usually rest during the day, I like to take advantage of all minutes of the day, but since I’ve grown to like Annoyzzie I accept his invitation. I clime on the meat, lick the red raw flash with enjoyment till I realize that Annoyzzie is looking at me, “I knew you will like it!” He says.
Since that day Annoyzzie and I are pretty much a couple. We spend each evening together hiding in the kitchen. Our parents don’t know about our relationship, they wouldn’t approve of a mozzie – ant relationship. For several months we are in love, kind and soft to each other, until I start feeling our differences. The good old conversations become fights. I blame Annoyzzie for being lazy, and he blames me for being tactless.
Annoyzzie is happier than ever today, he lands just near the trash bin and pokes me. ‘What’s wrong with you?” I ask. I approach him and can smell the blood. He overdosed! I can see it in his eyes. It is not the first time this happens. “Where have you been?” I ask alarmed. “in the bedroom…” he can hardly talk. He had been in one of the female’s bedroom late at night and sucked way too much blood out of her, poor girl. Annoyzzie is talking loudly; his intonation is climbing up and down. He tries to fly above me yet drops. His eyes are red and his stomach swollen. He has been greedy. I take deep breaths, I am quiet. I oblige myself not to say anything while he is in this state. At the moment he will only be able to react aggressively. I’ll be better off confronting him when he sobers up. I continue my work while he falls asleep on the window pane.
In the morning I quickly go to the window, he is still there. He could have been killed by one of the humans - sleeping there for so many hours careless and unconscious. He hears my footsteps and opens his eyes. He looks at me, angry, before I even say anything. “Why didn’t you stay with me last night?” he asks. “I hate it when you are in this state, it is disgraceful and dangerous, I was afraid of you”. His eyes fill with rage, “well you will just have to deal with it, all my friends overdose from time to time, its liberating and fun, it's like being on top of the world.”
I walk away in silence; I cannot bare seeing Annoyzzie destroy himself, being a slave to his passions rather than listen to his intellect. I can not reason with him. I walk to the rubbish bin, to my family, I don’t look back.
In the afternoon I climb up and find Annoyzzie lying dead in the exact same place I saw him in the morning. My eyes fill with tears. I turn around and walk away as fast as I can. Just near him the human female is scratching her elbow. “What goes around comes around” she mumbles.
So how come mozzies always find me? I hide under a blanket and can hear the most annoying buzz near my ear. Big things cannot find little things yet little things can easily find big things.
And why the hell do they go for the ankle? Is the blood sweater there ?
Mozzies favor the most annoying spots: ankles (you can’t really scratch there because the round ‘marble’ is in the way), feet palms (this actually hurt!) and eyelids (you look like you've been fighting!). Not to say that getting bitten in other places is not super SUPER annoying too.
However, let’s try and look at it from another point of view:
Hello and nice to meet you! My name is Annoyzzie. My pleasure in life is to eat. I prefer raw blood that does not contain meat (I am almost vegetarian). I love to bite stretched skin. The softer and the more transparent, the more divine. That explains why my preferred food is found in newborns. Thereafter I like young ladies, and finally (if there’s nothing better around) I’d eat old ladies' blood. In any case, I love food so much (and depend on it obviously) that I’ll have anyone.
Sometimes when my friends are around I really go crazy for food! I’ll eat anything, and quickly, just like humans. I go from one chunk of skin to the other almost without stopping. I am not afraid to get noxious or sick, or even to die. Some of my best friends have died from being determined to eat during our gatherings. Many times they have died because their lust drove them rather than cautiousness.
I am however glad to be a mozzie. I see other bugs that have to fight for their food and me – my biggest effort is to have to sneak in through a mozzie net. If I am successful in that I get food, as much as I want, especially at night time. Actually my absolute preferred time of the day is when the sun sets, the sky is beautiful then and I always go out.
As you can see I enjoy food yet I also like music, a lot! After all, what’s life without music? The music I prefer is experimental – beep & buzz. It’s the kind of experimental/abstract compositions that entertain the musician, less so the listener. I enjoy the process of what I am doing with this type of music; it is not my goal to please the listeners. However, if I enjoy it maybe they will appreciate my serious attitude towards my music too.
I am actually not sure what the public thinks of my beeps & buzzes although my parents taught me to think positive. I don’t believe humans really like it. They’ve tried to slap me several times and it didn’t feel like a friendly pat or anything (not like what they would do to their horses, cats and dogs).
Ants
My name is Antseverywhere but people call me Anthere. In my culture people have to work hard, like in China. I work to provide food for myself and for my family. This is all that matters. My parents taught me about the values of labor . Their parents taught them the same things and it has been going on for generations. The principle of my work is to follow my tribe and spread widely. We feed from anything that is nutritious. We are not spoiled, not at all. It can be fresh food on the counter, leftovers on a dirty plate, crumbs or even human or animal’s fluids.
We normally preach for peace, however we will bite if we feel in danger (though this only happens rarely ). Therefore I don’t really understand why we are not popular among humans. My dad says they don’t like us because we are everywhere. They think they can just step on us and our houses, but we will not be defeated!
Sometimes, when I walk back and forth from the rubbish bin in the kitchen to my home, while humans are cooking, I meet Annoyzzie. We have introduced ourselves to each other. Each one of us has a different purpose in life: he is dependent on human skin and I need leftovers, so we’re not competing or anything.
We’re both small and black. I am nevertheless quite jealous at Annoyzzie for his ability to fly although of course if I could fly I wouldn't just wonder in the air; I will work towards optimizing my food resources.
We greet each other all the time now. Annoyzzie flies above my head and chitchats while I’m working. We talk about the pleasure of eating and about human culture which is alien to us. Annoyzzie says he both hates and loves humans. It makes me laugh; he is totally dependent on them yet they must hate him.
In fact, this kitchen has become his home. Three humans are coming and going to this kitchen regularly. He prefers the blood of the females, “it is sweet and juicy” he says.
One day Annoyzzie tells me “Hey, Anthere, what about resting for a minute on the counter? There’s a beautiful red piece of meat just there. We can hang out together for a few minutes, what do you say?” I don’t usually rest during the day, I like to take advantage of all minutes of the day, but since I’ve grown to like Annoyzzie I accept his invitation. I clime on the meat, lick the red raw flash with enjoyment till I realize that Annoyzzie is looking at me, “I knew you will like it!” He says.
Since that day Annoyzzie and I are pretty much a couple. We spend each evening together hiding in the kitchen. Our parents don’t know about our relationship, they wouldn’t approve of a mozzie – ant relationship. For several months we are in love, kind and soft to each other, until I start feeling our differences. The good old conversations become fights. I blame Annoyzzie for being lazy, and he blames me for being tactless.
Annoyzzie is happier than ever today, he lands just near the trash bin and pokes me. ‘What’s wrong with you?” I ask. I approach him and can smell the blood. He overdosed! I can see it in his eyes. It is not the first time this happens. “Where have you been?” I ask alarmed. “in the bedroom…” he can hardly talk. He had been in one of the female’s bedroom late at night and sucked way too much blood out of her, poor girl. Annoyzzie is talking loudly; his intonation is climbing up and down. He tries to fly above me yet drops. His eyes are red and his stomach swollen. He has been greedy. I take deep breaths, I am quiet. I oblige myself not to say anything while he is in this state. At the moment he will only be able to react aggressively. I’ll be better off confronting him when he sobers up. I continue my work while he falls asleep on the window pane.
In the morning I quickly go to the window, he is still there. He could have been killed by one of the humans - sleeping there for so many hours careless and unconscious. He hears my footsteps and opens his eyes. He looks at me, angry, before I even say anything. “Why didn’t you stay with me last night?” he asks. “I hate it when you are in this state, it is disgraceful and dangerous, I was afraid of you”. His eyes fill with rage, “well you will just have to deal with it, all my friends overdose from time to time, its liberating and fun, it's like being on top of the world.”
I walk away in silence; I cannot bare seeing Annoyzzie destroy himself, being a slave to his passions rather than listen to his intellect. I can not reason with him. I walk to the rubbish bin, to my family, I don’t look back.
In the afternoon I climb up and find Annoyzzie lying dead in the exact same place I saw him in the morning. My eyes fill with tears. I turn around and walk away as fast as I can. Just near him the human female is scratching her elbow. “What goes around comes around” she mumbles.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Todd’s river
Alice and Todd were making love in Alice’s bedroom. Which was also her living room and in fact her only room. She had a single mattress - they enjoyed lying close to each other.
It’s not the first time they hooked up. They have known each other for more than six months but have never clarified the nature of their relationship nor have they made any mutual plans or commitments for the future. However, the physical contact between them was warm and loving. When they finished making love Todd would lie down on Alice’s tummy, resting his body against hers for quite a while, in order “to hear each other’s heart beat,” he said. A few minutes upon this ritual he’d get out of bed, stretch, and throw away the used condom into the dark grey plastic trash bag on the floor, on the right corner of the room, and then walk away and disappear into the void of the bathroom.
In regards to the trash bag it is important to note that Alice did not have a lot of trash and therefore used the same dark grey plastic trash bag for a few months. Moreover, the trash she threw in there was usually just ‘dry’ trash like tickets of concerts she has been to or business cards of people she will never do business with. The used condom with Todd’s liquids in it was an exception, but she wasn’t aware of it being in the dark grey plastic trash bag as it was always Todd who dealt with the used preservatives while she had the sweetest ‘after-sex’ sleep.
The temperature in the trash bag was 37.5 degrees. The trash bag doubled its dimensions over the passing months. Alice thought that she must have accumulated lots of trash. However, she didn’t replace the trash bag. It was either laziness or perhaps care for the environment. Nevertheless she used the same dark grey plastic trash bag for at least nine consecutive months. The latter was nurtured by the scraps of food Todd threw in there when Alice wasn’t watching and by the humidity in Alice’s room (especially the extreme humidity while the activity of love making was happening in the room.)
From time to time Alice would lie on her mattress by herself and hear squeaking noises coming from the corner of the room. She would assume it is a mouse or perhaps the wind blowing onto the plastic. She wouldn’t bother checking the nature of the noises and certainly not the trash bag contents.
One day, about fifteen months after Alice and Todd have first met, Alice came home and went for a lie down in her room. While she lay on her mattress spreading her arms and legs to the side, she suddenly heard a loud baby’s cry. It sounded as if it came from inside the room, but how can it be? She opened her eyes and saw in the corner of the room the dark gray plastic trash bag swinging from side to side. Yet Alice hadn’t opened the window this afternoon. The bag was swollen like a large football and the cries were definitely coming from there. Alice slammed herself a couple of times on the cheek to make sure she isn’t still dreaming but it was fact, her trash bag was making baby noise.
At first she was paralyzed by fear, she couldn’t move. But then she took several deep breaths and slowly and quietly, tip toeing, walked to the corner of the room. She grabbed the dark gray plastic bag by its two handles; it was heavy and unsteady. She looked inside and to her astonishment she found there a baby boy. She quickly took the boy out of the trash and pulled it onto her shoulder. He was filthy, yet from close by he had the sweet smell of a baby. Her eyes were field with tears. The baby stopped crying and looked around with big eyes, she looked at his face. Yes, his nose was like… his ears resembled… the shape of his chin was like… Todd’s!
She didn’t understand a thing. Maybe Todd got another woman pregnant and didn’t know what to do with the baby so he brought it over to her house and put it in her trash? She was running different possible scenarios in her head. Todd got another woman pregnant nine months ago obviously. They, Alice and Todd, were sleeping with each other already nine months ago, she calculated. The period just before Christmas was nine months ago; yes they were sleeping with each other! She remembers.
But since they never talk about anything that matters, who knows, maybe he was sleeping with another girl at the same time, maybe it’s a very young girl, sixteen or so. Maybe this other girl cried in his arms so he had to consolidate her: “of course we are having this baby, don’t worry my sweet, we’ll find someone to help us.“ He got that girl pregnant and then thought about her, Alice. He will ask Alice to help them care for this baby. However, since there was zero communication between them he didn’t know how to present the situation to Alice, he didn’t know how to ask for this enormous favor, how to explain the situation.
Maybe it’s her, Alice, maybe she didn’t listen, maybe all this time he tried to talk to her but she was too self absorbed, to selfish, enjoying the light character of their relationship. “A relationship without drama” she thought all this time, but in the meanwhile there’s a huge complication: Did Todd get another girl pregnant and put their baby in Alice’s rubbish bag?
Hang on, when did she last see Todd? Last Sunday, it is Saturday today. How could the baby have lied in the rubbish bag for six consecutive days without making a noise? No, that is not possible. Her flat mate must have let Todd and the baby in. Alice goes to her flat mate and asks her whether Todd came by with a baby. The flat mate however did not see Todd “for a very very long time” she said. Alice looks at the baby again, for a moment she thinks that the baby’s eyes shape look like hers, similar to her eyes in her own baby pictures. However she quickly abandons this thought.
Alice went for a nap, she put the baby near her. Lying down was always a solution when she was absolutely lost. She and the baby slept for about 45 minutes till the baby started crying again. This time it was hard to calm it down. She decided to call Todd, he was her (quiet) boyfriend after all.
-what’s the crying sound in the background?
-you tell me (she instantly got angry, she remembered the other girl.)
-what do you mean?
-what do YOU mean??? (She raised her voice.)
-should I come over?
-yes you should!
She didn’t necessarily want to see him now, after what he has done to her, but she needed an explanation and she needed help.
Todd arrived quickly, only 20 minutes have past since the phone conversation. The baby was still crying. Alice and Todd were trying to talk about things that matter for the first time, while trying to overcome the noise of the baby simultaneously.
-who’s baby is this?
-were you seeing another girl all this time?
-what are you talking about?
-it is your baby, look at it (he looked.)
-it looks like you Alice
Todd became pale, he started to regret their quiet relationship; all this time he thought they had something going, he felt close to Alice, but really, he doesn’t know anything about her.
Alice looked at the baby. It was heart braking; the baby was unhappy, she didn’t have much experience with babies, it is possibly hungry, tired, dirty, sick, lonely? She didn’t hear what Todd was shouting, she ignored him and when he was done shouting (she’d never seen him shout before) she asked him to take her to the hospital.
The doctors said it was a healthy young baby. They asked Alice if she had thought of a name. She instead explained that she found it in her gray plastic trash bag in her room. The male doctor looked at the female doctor and proposed to conduct a DNA test.
Alice agreed because she wanted to know if it was Todd’s baby. Todd agreed because he wanted to know if it was Alice’s baby. They didn’t look each other in the eyes, they didn’t trust each other. It didn’t occur to them that it might be their baby.
Alice checked on the baby every hour while their DNA was in the lab. She was fond of the baby. The nurse asked her if she was going to breast feed it, she was shocked by the question.
While she was waiting for the results her mother called. Alice told her mother what has happened, she was crying, she was tired. Her mother said, “Honey, are you crying out of happiness?! I am crying too.” she hang up the phone, her mother didn’t understand.
At 6pm her mother arrived to the hospital. At the same time the male doctor came out with the DNA results. Alice’s mother kissed Alice, she kissed Todd too. The Doctor announced: “It’s your baby Alice, it’s your baby too Todd.” he smiled. ”Congratulations.”
It’s not the first time they hooked up. They have known each other for more than six months but have never clarified the nature of their relationship nor have they made any mutual plans or commitments for the future. However, the physical contact between them was warm and loving. When they finished making love Todd would lie down on Alice’s tummy, resting his body against hers for quite a while, in order “to hear each other’s heart beat,” he said. A few minutes upon this ritual he’d get out of bed, stretch, and throw away the used condom into the dark grey plastic trash bag on the floor, on the right corner of the room, and then walk away and disappear into the void of the bathroom.
In regards to the trash bag it is important to note that Alice did not have a lot of trash and therefore used the same dark grey plastic trash bag for a few months. Moreover, the trash she threw in there was usually just ‘dry’ trash like tickets of concerts she has been to or business cards of people she will never do business with. The used condom with Todd’s liquids in it was an exception, but she wasn’t aware of it being in the dark grey plastic trash bag as it was always Todd who dealt with the used preservatives while she had the sweetest ‘after-sex’ sleep.
The temperature in the trash bag was 37.5 degrees. The trash bag doubled its dimensions over the passing months. Alice thought that she must have accumulated lots of trash. However, she didn’t replace the trash bag. It was either laziness or perhaps care for the environment. Nevertheless she used the same dark grey plastic trash bag for at least nine consecutive months. The latter was nurtured by the scraps of food Todd threw in there when Alice wasn’t watching and by the humidity in Alice’s room (especially the extreme humidity while the activity of love making was happening in the room.)
From time to time Alice would lie on her mattress by herself and hear squeaking noises coming from the corner of the room. She would assume it is a mouse or perhaps the wind blowing onto the plastic. She wouldn’t bother checking the nature of the noises and certainly not the trash bag contents.
One day, about fifteen months after Alice and Todd have first met, Alice came home and went for a lie down in her room. While she lay on her mattress spreading her arms and legs to the side, she suddenly heard a loud baby’s cry. It sounded as if it came from inside the room, but how can it be? She opened her eyes and saw in the corner of the room the dark gray plastic trash bag swinging from side to side. Yet Alice hadn’t opened the window this afternoon. The bag was swollen like a large football and the cries were definitely coming from there. Alice slammed herself a couple of times on the cheek to make sure she isn’t still dreaming but it was fact, her trash bag was making baby noise.
At first she was paralyzed by fear, she couldn’t move. But then she took several deep breaths and slowly and quietly, tip toeing, walked to the corner of the room. She grabbed the dark gray plastic bag by its two handles; it was heavy and unsteady. She looked inside and to her astonishment she found there a baby boy. She quickly took the boy out of the trash and pulled it onto her shoulder. He was filthy, yet from close by he had the sweet smell of a baby. Her eyes were field with tears. The baby stopped crying and looked around with big eyes, she looked at his face. Yes, his nose was like… his ears resembled… the shape of his chin was like… Todd’s!
She didn’t understand a thing. Maybe Todd got another woman pregnant and didn’t know what to do with the baby so he brought it over to her house and put it in her trash? She was running different possible scenarios in her head. Todd got another woman pregnant nine months ago obviously. They, Alice and Todd, were sleeping with each other already nine months ago, she calculated. The period just before Christmas was nine months ago; yes they were sleeping with each other! She remembers.
But since they never talk about anything that matters, who knows, maybe he was sleeping with another girl at the same time, maybe it’s a very young girl, sixteen or so. Maybe this other girl cried in his arms so he had to consolidate her: “of course we are having this baby, don’t worry my sweet, we’ll find someone to help us.“ He got that girl pregnant and then thought about her, Alice. He will ask Alice to help them care for this baby. However, since there was zero communication between them he didn’t know how to present the situation to Alice, he didn’t know how to ask for this enormous favor, how to explain the situation.
Maybe it’s her, Alice, maybe she didn’t listen, maybe all this time he tried to talk to her but she was too self absorbed, to selfish, enjoying the light character of their relationship. “A relationship without drama” she thought all this time, but in the meanwhile there’s a huge complication: Did Todd get another girl pregnant and put their baby in Alice’s rubbish bag?
Hang on, when did she last see Todd? Last Sunday, it is Saturday today. How could the baby have lied in the rubbish bag for six consecutive days without making a noise? No, that is not possible. Her flat mate must have let Todd and the baby in. Alice goes to her flat mate and asks her whether Todd came by with a baby. The flat mate however did not see Todd “for a very very long time” she said. Alice looks at the baby again, for a moment she thinks that the baby’s eyes shape look like hers, similar to her eyes in her own baby pictures. However she quickly abandons this thought.
Alice went for a nap, she put the baby near her. Lying down was always a solution when she was absolutely lost. She and the baby slept for about 45 minutes till the baby started crying again. This time it was hard to calm it down. She decided to call Todd, he was her (quiet) boyfriend after all.
-what’s the crying sound in the background?
-you tell me (she instantly got angry, she remembered the other girl.)
-what do you mean?
-what do YOU mean??? (She raised her voice.)
-should I come over?
-yes you should!
She didn’t necessarily want to see him now, after what he has done to her, but she needed an explanation and she needed help.
Todd arrived quickly, only 20 minutes have past since the phone conversation. The baby was still crying. Alice and Todd were trying to talk about things that matter for the first time, while trying to overcome the noise of the baby simultaneously.
-who’s baby is this?
-were you seeing another girl all this time?
-what are you talking about?
-it is your baby, look at it (he looked.)
-it looks like you Alice
Todd became pale, he started to regret their quiet relationship; all this time he thought they had something going, he felt close to Alice, but really, he doesn’t know anything about her.
Alice looked at the baby. It was heart braking; the baby was unhappy, she didn’t have much experience with babies, it is possibly hungry, tired, dirty, sick, lonely? She didn’t hear what Todd was shouting, she ignored him and when he was done shouting (she’d never seen him shout before) she asked him to take her to the hospital.
The doctors said it was a healthy young baby. They asked Alice if she had thought of a name. She instead explained that she found it in her gray plastic trash bag in her room. The male doctor looked at the female doctor and proposed to conduct a DNA test.
Alice agreed because she wanted to know if it was Todd’s baby. Todd agreed because he wanted to know if it was Alice’s baby. They didn’t look each other in the eyes, they didn’t trust each other. It didn’t occur to them that it might be their baby.
Alice checked on the baby every hour while their DNA was in the lab. She was fond of the baby. The nurse asked her if she was going to breast feed it, she was shocked by the question.
While she was waiting for the results her mother called. Alice told her mother what has happened, she was crying, she was tired. Her mother said, “Honey, are you crying out of happiness?! I am crying too.” she hang up the phone, her mother didn’t understand.
At 6pm her mother arrived to the hospital. At the same time the male doctor came out with the DNA results. Alice’s mother kissed Alice, she kissed Todd too. The Doctor announced: “It’s your baby Alice, it’s your baby too Todd.” he smiled. ”Congratulations.”
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