Pixeled
Looking at my body some years ago:
full breasts, stomach a bit like in those renaissance paintings
rounder, younger cheeks, the hair darker and thicker
now an age of loss inflicts on me, a scarcity
making itself felt in the corners of a self I cannot reach.
Only during my afternoon sleep, a lucid dream so blurred and clear
like the view out of my window: If I turn my head to the right I look towards the city centre. The clouds are sitting low on the dark roofs of a rapidly approaching late autumn night and when I look to the left there is a rather clear sky above the small park "Leipziger Platz" that is shaped like a mini serpentine. A young man with curled black hair and a long light coat is standing under the street lights, his face is brightened by his smartphone's screen. I call him. Just once. A stranger. He disappears into the park.
I manipulate my dream and at the same time I am not able to bring it to an end. I get desperate because I do not know if I am controlling the dream or the dream controls me. I am unable to open the flap of the dungeon and the flap is a flap in my brain. I just know I liked the characters in it albeit they seem to be lost forever as soon as I wake up.
My head looks small, my torso fragile.
Remember the skinny girl from the literature school: She wrote about me. Two or three phrases. She said I had the hair she wished for as a small girl and that my robust boots stood for my earthy appearance.
The other is the other and it is you and it is me within yourself.
What would she say about me today, some years later? She would at least not throw stones at me, maybe even make the same observations. I am made of glass and it is hard to hide that. As I try less, potential antagonists also care less. They don't see where the plot of my narration is. They don't see it because it's not there and I can't blame them: It's hard to grasp transparency if manipulation and pretence are the rules of the game.
Is it easier to see the world in pixels? To accept that the zoom makes things even more blurred, maybe just look away, focus on one pixel and grow that one? And hope at one point it will fit into the bigger picture because the picture is flawed anyway? Oh world, give me pixels, it's better than the void, so full of holes leading into more voids!
full breasts, stomach a bit like in those renaissance paintings
rounder, younger cheeks, the hair darker and thicker
now an age of loss inflicts on me, a scarcity
making itself felt in the corners of a self I cannot reach.
Only during my afternoon sleep, a lucid dream so blurred and clear
like the view out of my window: If I turn my head to the right I look towards the city centre. The clouds are sitting low on the dark roofs of a rapidly approaching late autumn night and when I look to the left there is a rather clear sky above the small park "Leipziger Platz" that is shaped like a mini serpentine. A young man with curled black hair and a long light coat is standing under the street lights, his face is brightened by his smartphone's screen. I call him. Just once. A stranger. He disappears into the park.
I manipulate my dream and at the same time I am not able to bring it to an end. I get desperate because I do not know if I am controlling the dream or the dream controls me. I am unable to open the flap of the dungeon and the flap is a flap in my brain. I just know I liked the characters in it albeit they seem to be lost forever as soon as I wake up.
My head looks small, my torso fragile.
Remember the skinny girl from the literature school: She wrote about me. Two or three phrases. She said I had the hair she wished for as a small girl and that my robust boots stood for my earthy appearance.
The other is the other and it is you and it is me within yourself.
What would she say about me today, some years later? She would at least not throw stones at me, maybe even make the same observations. I am made of glass and it is hard to hide that. As I try less, potential antagonists also care less. They don't see where the plot of my narration is. They don't see it because it's not there and I can't blame them: It's hard to grasp transparency if manipulation and pretence are the rules of the game.
Is it easier to see the world in pixels? To accept that the zoom makes things even more blurred, maybe just look away, focus on one pixel and grow that one? And hope at one point it will fit into the bigger picture because the picture is flawed anyway? Oh world, give me pixels, it's better than the void, so full of holes leading into more voids!
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