czwartek, 26 czerwca 2014

83

newsletter

Dear,

my aunt have passed away a week ago on Thursday. I was at the funeral this Tuesday. By the time she was leaving I accidentaly met my friend in the foyer of the cinema and he pushed me to change my mind, so we both went to the film we haven't planned to see. It was about two youngsters who were terminally ill, but fell in love and if they do not found, they at least had the feeling of what life really is about just before they died. I came back in the night and my mum called that her sister is gone now.

Later on, on Tuesday, at the meeting after the funeral, few far members of the family shared their Thursday stories with me. It was an usual calm afternoon, they just ate their dinners and relaxed, and suddenly someone hardly hit the windows. They've checked it already after the first rumble and no one was around, but the noise repeated for three times. In the other house, by this time, a huge plant fell down even if it wasn't windy and no one touched it.

It was her farewell.



Last week was a bit depressing due to overthinking. Everything had no sense for me without any reason and I know it was not connected with her death. Just the world seems so unreasonable at all - I kept bombarding myself with questions like: What for do we care about development if nice things are f.ex. our time spend with friends? Why do we want so called "ambitious job" if its just exchanging frustration felt in corporations for disappointment felt in the culture sector (and without financial stability).

Fighting is not the way I want to spend my life. Because I know that life is simple and the grass grows itself.

I am full of life doubts but this week I have so much work I almost do not sleep, and when I do I dream that I run marathons. I even like it. At least its productive and takes me somewhere further.

Maybe life have no sense at all, besides of creating images, that seem to change something. And the image may be captured in the film or a text or may be told like the story after the funeral.

It can also be a living picture, like the one I will remember from the ceremony. Just when the guys from the service put the coffin down it started to rain. The whole family and friends, I guess around one hundred people were standing on one side, and then I saw this man, tall, slim guy in his fifties that was standing in front of the different grave, just like he came to visit it. But then I realised he is a part of our funeral. Standing there, in casual gray clothes, he was crying deeply, like the person who is buried was the close one. I passed flowers from my mum and myself to the service, looked back into his direction, and he was not there anymore. My mum confirmed, that she also saw him, but did not know who was he. I will never know if he was a random stranger moved by the ceremony or a friend of my aunt.

I now my life often sounds like taken from some sentimental movie, but clichés are not clichés anymore, when they happen for real.



I guess tommorrow I will come to Brno by car borrowed from my mum. It is quite meaningful right now that I passed my exam for a driving licence one day before I came to Brno almost two years ago.


On Saturday I plan to pack my stuff from Veveři 59 and go up to the north of Czech Republic for the party at the amazing cottage of my friends, that have also left their flat at Staňková 13 this week. I know also that another couple of my friends is changing their flat in Gdańsk this weekend.

Something new begins when you say goodbye to the place that changed you.
Maybe this is the weekend of change.

Hope to see you tomorrow,

Peggy


wtorek, 17 czerwca 2014

82

elastomery

nazywa się mieszka studiowała
pracowała udawała
w każdym razie pieniądze dostała

używała słów ładnych choć niekoniecznie
zrozumiałych takich jak:
statyczny bezpośredni trójfazowy

komisje wspierające rozwinięte już talenty
nie kopały w ogrodach wspomnień
za domem ani w podłodze

wszystko trzeba było przynieść na tacy
dostojnie prezentować i nie potknąć się
na wybiegu

rozbierali ją przed sobą na kawałki
aż otrzymała wiele nagród i wyróżnień
od komisji poetyckich wojskowych skrutacyjnych


na końcu dodali adnotację:

wadium potencjałów nie może być
przekazywane osobom trzecim
prawnym cywilnym fizycznym

brzydkim ładnym złym nieobecnym
ubogim ani biednym dzieciom
bez naszej uprzedniej pisemnej zgody

sobota, 14 czerwca 2014

81

Rzucamy w siebie ochłapami słów:
Raz ona - raz ja
I rozszerzają się naczynia krwionośne głębinowych
kopalni znaczeń.

Wkładamy kilka bio gramów z poetów
pod język,
Jeszcze żyją a już mają
medaliony.

Podwyższone tętno czytania wzmaga
zapominanie:
Używam tej części głowy w której są tylko
autostrady (zjazdów w aglomeracje wspomnień nie widać).

Słyszałam, że zwiększona częstotliwość podróży
międzygwiezdnych grozi schizofrenią,
Ale odbijam piłeczkę w trzeci wymiar
szlifowania połączeń szlachetnych.