ICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINERICHBINEINBERLINER
You night out, night so that the interior of the rooms you see in front of my fine, light spots on a black background with no depth whatsoever. In here are safe, at least until dawn, the apartment is protected, if you know pay no attention to the noises and not be hypnotized by them. I've heard of people who have been drawn out of a beat that seemed to come from the walls, floor, drawn inexorably towards the door, led to turn the key in the lock, exit and then disappear in the weak artificial light of the stairwell, under the horrifying those tenants. Never go back, they say.
But not here, here I am safe, I have the music in the earphones, the music is right, are protected by the sounds, are immune. I hope.
Now that I have to run for a while 'I can finally relax.
The city is all-metal, metal buildings, bridges are metal, the trains are made of metal, asphalt is made of metal under my feet, I can hear the sound of footsteps as if walking on a steel plate - I do not plan to fluctuate too much - struck a slab vibrates like a drum skin from free edges, creating shapes nodal characteristics that have the same variety of snowflakes: Designs complex geometries sacral that only a thin layer of sand can reveal, as illustrated Chladni Emperor [1]. In switch from a 2-dimensional complexity of the nodes increases excessively, from 2 to 3 dimensions the complexity becomes frightful complexity in 4 dimensions is unimaginable, far beyond the reach of our minds, I say. Gravitational waves beat the four-dimensional spacetime around me putting it in vibration, but I'm blind, deaf, a sect of sketches based on a Middle East unidentified and contours fable says that the nodes of vibration four-dimensional spacetime that are specific ways lead to unexplored places and moments, invisible to the human mind. It should, say, a particular substance that opens the mind at the entrance to a new dimension to see: call it "sand
" exactly, but it seems that it is impossible to find because unlike the other drugs who sells them can not even take it, otherwise the desire to take the paths that open up before him, all the dealers who fell into temptation disappear in nothing, you see them around anymore.
I take the bottle clear, it seems that an old-fashioned scent. It was little, but still enough for a ride. I'm lucky, it's still not enough, maybe today is my lucky day. Prepare the glass, I have to wash one, why are all encrusted never use them. Then we need a spoon rest on, I realize that is a stupid idea, I have no spoons washes of course, a better fork, a fork will do. I open the bottle carefully, slowly, as if the essence could escape if I open too quickly.
I found the bottle of absinthe in a shop, an old shop, covered with wood and bottles full of bottles, such as chess pieces arranged on the giant chess board which is the wall, playing a game with huge militia recruited throughout the world, a massacre, a massacre of alcohol. I tried absinthe for its vaunted quality, looking for literary inspiration, creative talent bottled, I wanted something to make me strong. I'm not a regular customer, I can not choose the best quality, I can sell all go to the eye watching the bottle, the bottle I have to like, be nice. I do not know if there is a quality that helps you write yellow, one that will help you compose poems, one that makes you write this section, are probably all that crap was invented Baudelaire, and that I have ever read in depth. But I was in the shop, now I fucking absinthe. Too bad there was nobody at that moment, a bloody shopkeeper behind the counter, only bottles, chess pieces, bottles, bishops, pawns, queens, and I did not know what the hell to move to make. I chose a nice bottle, and I went looking for the owner - I wanted to leave without paying - I looked around a corner, there were only dusty shelves of bottles, but most of my beautiful, dusty bottles with notes in the neck in an exaggerated emphasis that prevented me from even understand what language they were written. I had one, I put in my place, I put the card, I've hidden behind others, are left in a hurry, I have not met anyone, I had the bottle, the bottle beautiful, I had absinthe.
But it is not absinthe. I'll be a neophyte but at least I can recognize the taste. It is not absinthe.
is better. And it's mine. Only me.
not you will recover.
The city is made of metal, my mouth tastes of metal, blood metal, even the walls are made of metal; walk close to the wall - the city is the wall - I follow the wall, the wall is my friend, played according to my friend, unwinds as the convolutions in the brain - the brain is a vibrant city of metal - I keep my hand on wall, so keep in touch - the wall is all, if he falls I disappear with him - the hand on the wall, is the best way to exit a maze connected tell me, just follow the wall - the city is a maze I do not know where I joined, I did not realize you are in a maze, now I just have to avoid the monster and I'm out, I do not need anything, just avoid, avoid.
carried out according to the wall, replace the lights in the streets, clinging to their journey; they know I'm ill, I have to rest, is their card, their trump card, now they can have me, I'm vulnerable.
Capito in a crowded bar, sat down, before I was standing, now I'm sitting, do not know how it happened, a waitress asks us what we want in German, does not speak English, we understand that is not programmed to do so, the cybernetics waitress brings the drinks, I took him right, I think I just thought, must be telepathic, yes, that does not need English.
recognize its mechanical nature, if I listen I can hear the creak of his suspension and sway between the tables. He ruthlessly artificial eyes I tell myself. The suspensions of
also are difficult to achieve, I said an engineer here, the movement has a high degree of freedom, is the most articulated body, it is hard to get them to walk like human beings, as we say, I had noticed too, I say, even though I have a degree in robotics, now they feel to skin (now?) I look around me, faces full of alien beings from poor skin, which does not cover the whole body: the underground market is more fertile than ever, it is dangerous to walk certain streets, I hear him behind me. It is a threat, threaten me, I am human, in this bar of heterogeneous creatures.
The waitress brings us to the tower of the hookah - shisha
in paleodialetto local - I had not ordered, or perhaps you, who cares, I choose when I stopped and started to do them? Around me the faces of their alien aspire excited gas industry, is local stuff I hear, stuff like that to cars or people for them - their nostrils as prefabricated smoke in flames, the smoke thickens the air, was not there before I think, maybe wrong, all I do since I came here, it's just a matter of time, or rhythm.
The smoke has a strange taste - it's strange, I say, he knows he's strange, I feel good - someone put something in my smoke, I feel - it makes me cough, cough I do not usually swear, you are to me did you cough, it is this that I smoke you gave it makes me cough I mean, my head is spinning, not me, you must believe me, this is not me.
Millions of bees fly from the hive to flowers every day, along a path slightly different each time, trying to climb from countable all'innumerabile. Millions and billions, maybe the bees are one billion, most of the Indians, who are one billion, there is a bee for every Indian, probably more than one, technically every Indian could be stung by a bee at the same time, the 'India collapse for a few moments, and there are still enough bees to poison even China. Because when a bee stings someone, it leaves its stinger stuck, and so little After the bee dies: the sting of the bee sticks together some internal organs, previously contained in the abdomen. The sting of the bee is a specifically developed to target mammals, nothing other than mammals, as against other insects is totally ineffective at the end of the sting are 9 microscopic needles rearward facing, 9 small spikes that cling to the soft flesh, which penetrate deep tearing the tissues, allowing the weapon to distill all the poison, without losing a single drop. The poison is obtained from two glands, one acidic and alkaline at the time of puncture the content of the two glands is mixed, a chemical synthesis of opposites whose invention is lost in the dawn of time, the merger of two antagonistic, oldest and most primitive form of alchemy, the ying and yang, life and death, light and darkness, sleep and wakefulness.
leaving its sting the bee tries to leave himself in the victim's body, take possession of an ancestral rite, to continue climbing all'innumerabile. They say it happened rarely in history, and always for a short time. But the bees still hope.
I lift the lid of the brazier, perhaps enough to revive it, perhaps it's all fake, there's nothing in my smoke, but no, there are no coals, that is flesh, dead flesh burning, leaving a black smoke, who knows disgusting creature to which they removed, I do not know. I hate, I feel like throwing up, maybe it was someone like me, maybe I am - I check to make sure that the arts is not so: there are any. Project to escape, I know I have seen - I look around, seems to me that everyone is smoking - Stop it, give me smoke my head - I must run away, but all are there, ready to ambush, ready for my faux pas I must run away, I have to wait for the right moment.
are at the door of my accommodation.
I climb the wooden stairs, creak, sounding the alarm at every step, the steps are shitty their agents. The air is not empty, there is a buzz in the air, here is no expanded, now has a rhythm, like a heartbeat - the heart of an animal mechanics - and a rattling train, a runaway train - it's in my head, but fills the air - the head is opened to air, with pain - steel industry does not stop the music more - I understand that no interference, neural interference, sometimes happens where there are so many paranoid brain, sometimes it happens and this is not the first time I tell myself.
has two doors facing each landing, the left has a number on the right is the mirror but has no number, and the peephole is never light. The doors open right we never see, even through the peephole we see something, and only when all guests have returned to their rooms left night you can hear a snap lock, heavy footsteps electrify the air, breath of vague, but if you turn the key to immediately snap back the bolt and the noise stops abruptly.
I ran away, maybe I could be sneaky, I may have a few moments of respite, a moment to stagger. I pour the metal into the river, I let myself be carried away by strong current, red-green, red-green, red and green, this street is a circle, come back with everything the same period 2, let me carry me I repeat, nothing other than carry.
The lights are everywhere, on signs, on poles, cars, trams, the traffic lights on the walls, the floor, chasing me, I behind me, I am also in front of me arm is multiply reflected in a thousand shards of broken bottles that pave the way, are the pieces that will likely strengthen, perhaps I should get rid of those before, but it is impossible, there are indeed numerous, too many.
The method works, here's a new place - new to my eyes drunk with neon - is a station, a space station, a stop between trips to nothing, pure nothingness interstellar - as it is called a constellation, Cassiopeia
. Cassiopeia is a northern constellation, but is also visible in the Southern part, takes the form of a W or M depending on time of year to clinch his nature strip, and takes the name of Cassiopeia, queen of Ethiopian wife of Cepheus. Being close to Polaris - many here are from there - is visible all night, as she Cassiopeia remains open until the morning. The Arabs, centuries ago, they gave names to the stars that compose it: the name they gave brighter
Caph , "stained hand" - stained with blood, I think, another was called
Kingston, and indicates the sine of Cassiopeia and then were
Ruchbah ,
Segine , and so on. They are names that go back to a time when the Arabs colonized the stars.
The door of the room is tiny, I'm afraid not to move, someone has the key, however, the key to get into, we can go. A rickety bridge leading to the core of Cassiopeia, one by one, as scouts in the Andes, only much higher, up into the sky. The bridge vibrates, indeed, everything vibrates, a sign that we have passed the first barrier of sound, vibrations take possession of us, come in and dictate to us the breath, we die if they stopped stifled, if we say we hyperventilate hyperventilate until his death.
put down his fork over the glass in trying to keep her balance, I fall, I fall again, it is a fork of shit that does nothing but agitate, agitate and bad, if I lose my concentration I get upset if I lose my concentration are vulnerable to sound, if I lose I lose all concentration, the problem is the heavy neck I tell myself, just put something in I think maybe the bottle itself, because there is, is just for be there, maybe a coincidence but in my opinion is just that. System gently sugar cube on top of the fork and began to drip water on it taken from a cup, I do it with your finger, dip it and then leave it dripping stretched over the cube, the imporant is that falls drop by drop one at a time without losing a single drop. How do you prepare this substance with wormwood, I know it is not absinthe, but I prepare as if it were, because I bought in a shop of absinthe, and if it is not absinthe matter, what matters is the effect, and the effect is, the effect is all right. I invented a new way of taking this drug I tell you, whatever it is, at this time does not matter, tomorrow we will have tomorrow when it is over here I will have importance, but now it's ok, I'm ok, the drops are ok, the sugar that melts is ok, a little corner of the cube collapses in on itself, it's nice to see the break and take over, collapsing buildings throughout the city as rotting carcasses that were supported only by the rigor mortis, they feed their new buildings cement and their ruins to grow tall and windowless, ever bigger, ever more invulnerable. I would like be one of them.
Here there are people, is full of people, there is not one that is 100% human, only mestizos, of mixed blood of hideous alien races or disposed of, temple of the admixture of corruption and physics. Or maybe it's my vision clouded by the smoke, the smoke that I erode the vision, or is the corruption that is reflected in my vision, or do not know, smoking is making me shoot shit - shit, that shit you put me in smoke - a bit of 'I will begin to be conscious of what I do, I think, I do not know anything, I do not know anything.
This place is left, looks like a prison, I mean really, is surrounded by walls, there are gates, valves, there is a big tower with the lights on, perhaps a guard tower and a gatehouse runs everywhere along the wall, the wall that surrounds us, the wall that protects us and prevents us from going out. Who knows how many people died here, how many hands stained in Cassiopeia.
Looking back, the room is large, has many rooms that unfold as bodies neon lit by bluish, or pink, the arteries of people enter the room and give him their oxygen dancing, veins, tired out and return to water, the cycle continues The people around me seems unable to stop, I would like to see someone in my condition, I would give security, just a little 'safety. I enter a room that has a valve tissue on the door, I am made to go through a red blood cell, white blood cells Germans do not notice me, are like a virus effectively; this place reminds me of the inside of the body, my body, everything is reddish or bluish, depending on the flow of people, if enters or exits, it is a body, a large body is my body, the thought scares me, soon begin to get the granules of smoke I inhaled and take possession, I must run away, I will have to escape my body. Perhaps this is right, maybe the virus is really me, maybe I need to remove yourself to heal my body rejecting the idea in a moment of clarity, it is believed that the smoke is the black meat, which I have already arrived , in here somewhere.
within the room that has a valve tissue on the door, I'm hit by a heavy rhythmic beat, everything vibrates, my ears are moving away and approaching each other, the beat is strong, people dance, I know of being in the heart, blood pressure shoots me in another room, still beat the mighty, TUN, TUN, TUN, and so even in another room, I hope not to notice that I have no oxygen, but when I think about it still beats, still a another heart, this huge body has many hearts, I counted at least 4, the one I saw coming, moreover, is natural, being so big it takes repeaters, other hearts in other words, and we beat junkie, hearts treat us as they want, we print an electrocardiogram on the hand and a second, with hand-stained.
When I try to open a chair to lean on, I do not know if I stand still, I try to reach the apartment, if I can I won tonight, tomorrow it again on the agenda, but tonight I will have won, even if Tomorrow has already begun at midnight or dawn begins, do you, I hear people talking around me, I understand a few words, speak a melting pot of languages, some horrible I tell myself, I understand that talking to someone, someone who c 'is in the room, they say that someone else is looking, who has what he wants, he has "
the sand / sand he's got the" shit, refer to what the fuck? if someone has sand in there I try, I find it before they find them, or before that if the pusher face on his own and disappear forever, he counted the minutes I think, I can not resist, then he counted the minutes too: do I have to find. I refer now circulating, deception still leukocytes, my invisibility galvanizes me, smoking is less painful on me, now I have a goal, find the sand, then there really are not shit, I realize that my research is difficult, how do I recognize it? the variety of this inhuman place makes things only more difficult, people dancing on me and I push her away fierce, are all obstacles; Then I hear voices in the bottom of one of the many hearts that I'm in, there's strange people, moving together, they are looking for someone, cazzocazzocazzo arrived, they will find their first, more than me, maybe you know what he looks, 'd better run away: yes, perhaps this is what he is doing, whether is Slipping away - but just! - Then I have to do it myself if I want to see him, from what the fuck is part of the output? I just any, a pore, a sphincter of this cursed body, I have to reject me, shoot out like a wound. But those are smart, they're going in my direction, come towards me, they have also understood that the type'll be running away, I have to run more faster than they otherwise have lost, what else is lost, I seem to be going to save him, but I just want his stuff.
finally come to the door of my room, my climbing is done, now just the key, the key that opens all doors, visible and invisible, has a heavy pendant, I have to hold with your hand and around the key in the lock otherwise banging loudly on the door waking up everyone, even those who do not have to be awakened, especially them. The key to mess with me, treat me like an animal, kicking me, pretending to get stuck, idling, it makes me curse and swear quietly, I put to the test, and when I wanted to pass the test, gives me a lump of sugar on me, as the horses, I was a good beast, I would like to
clack and the door opens.
I'm finally in my apartment. Out the window you can see the other windows of the building, illuminated by some of my reflection, others lit by themselves, sometimes they send the flash of a few people who pass us by. I find it hard to see how other people live in the building besides me, I prefer to imagine that those windows are television screens that broadcast channels in all possible languages, so the probability of finding one in a language which is very low.
are safe now, I'm in my apartment and the apartment is safe, at least until dawn, and I insert earphones to the bottom and inject it into the music, I have to be careful of the noise, I must not leave me hypnotized, I lose everything I have. Now that I'm in my nest, I can rest, I no longer get away for a while ', I can finally relax.
I take the transparent bottle. I'm lucky, it has remained quite still for a ride. It's my lucky day today.
[1] Ernst FF Chladni (1756-1827), German physicist waves, explained to Napoleon the formation of stunning designs on a metal plate covered with sand and put into vibration by a bow violin in the years come in various denominations were born around the spirituality that emanated the phenomenon.
Thanks Ila as corrector of proofs (say hear from you is another story)
