March
Fragments of memory and limescale collide. Moments, time and two parts forged together. The time was rotten like meat that had been forgotten for months. The horror of the bombshells like war in Germany – the horrific scenes of mutilated flesh and chambers of gas. The cruel intensity of suffocation and what a human body does not endure.
How can anyone give advice or know right from wrong – no man truly knows. No man truly knows himself nevermind another.
It is one day, and one day at a time only, that reflections start to submerge or at least dwindle into a fainter existence. Reflections of them all, not worth mentioning, for the pain they transport. Reflections of a short semester of life being ripped out and apart at points where raw flesh would be left. A reminder, or course, of the torment and agony of such an existence.
Unreliability like the worst sailor at sea, who never knew what it was to mature. How can they expect me to digest these things, to travel smoothly forwards on the path as if the wall of China had not just been destroyed. Frank you never did grow up, although you thought your mind an ageing man, what of the rest? Single kids are selfish, they say, and true to the saying, I’d say.
April
They didn’t tell me Frank, I mean, they didn’t tell me things would be like this. They didn’t tell me things would go this way. Did you know Frank? You did, didn’t you? I can’t believe you never told me – how could you Frank?
May
It’s Monday, who knows what the date is… near to a time of celebration on the calendar and this year I’m not even counting the days.
Nobody knows about the country I’m in, a far and distant land with unchartered waters and undiscovered zones.
You know, it’s not even about Ziola. It’s about the friction and the now terrible festering wounds. The puss is there, flowing and oozing, making the body gag.
None of this existed before I met THEM, and of course it is plural. A horrible little triangle. Oh Frank, I hate the triangle – don’t counsel me to return to it. Triangles don’t work in the natural. Tell me Frank, what do you honestly think?
Will you let me know, find out if Mava agrees – she always did have a great sensitivity for these things. It’s just that … now, it’s my life we’re talking about. My life that seems to have been blocked and stopped, like a clock that stops ticking. I don’t even think it’s the batteries, I think it’s broken, completely broken.
Can Mava fix that?
Really Frank you know me, and I think I just really love to be alone. Especially in comparison to what some ‘togetherness’ can constitute.
It’s me, you know Frank. Not some horrible person. Remember how we used to tallk for hours as the sun set over the coffee house. Life was eternal and the beginning. The days of ‘anything can be achieved,’ and ‘anything could be conquered.’
Now, well, I can’t even write it Frank nevermind say it. Of course my life is no longer my own and has been utterly ransacked. And I know how it goes – the honeymoon is pretense, a reeling in of an unsuspecting fish (a tadpole). The sharks have to bite at some point. They did never did relent from day one.
Frank, the worst of it is this: what never was my fault or problem (like baggage that isn’t yours), is all of a sudden, overnight on a train, all my fault… all blame, guilt and ‘responsibility’ at my door! Like Israel was born in a day – miraculous – I reaped a whirlwind and tragedy overnight.
One has to ask someone knowing like Mava, how does one explain this and where in all the world’s libraries would an appropriate and soul-satisfying answer be located? The age-old question goes: what did one do so wrong?
Frank, you must reply without delay. For amongst the seething ----------, is great anguish. Tears as hot as flames and heartache as precise as the stabbing of a knife.
You have no idea how ‘easy’ some things are, Frank. Horrid things. People may say ‘how is this and that possible?’ And my answer Frank is, simply, easy. You’d be surprised how easy it is, how quick and how natural these things come to the natural soul.
I know for a fact today, Frank, that they await for me to sign up again to that which brings…
