Posted in Historia & Memoria, Interna by Suzanne on December 8th, 2007 | BBC Wikipedia
Maskelyne & Cooke at the Egyptian Hall, c. 1887 – via DarkVictoria
N° 1: I hardly ever look at watches or clocks, but whenever I do, it’s either 13:37 or 23:25.
N° 2: I don’t know what boredom is. I have no idea what people feel or refer to when they say they’re “bored”.
N° 3: I’m unable to get into another state of mind by using drugs, hence I don’t use them. It might be that my mind is already open and semi-permeable enough for the most subtle influences and signs to penetrate me; at any rate, I found that drugs only make me numb, tired and apathetic. It might also be that I’m way too responsible and suspicious a person who constantly sees to that her friends and loved ones are safe from harm before indulging into anything that would blur her consciousness and alertness. I’m an owl mother.
N° 4: Sleep always was and always will be my biggest fear and enemy and I try to avoid it whenever possible and as long as I can. As a child, when my parents thought I had long drifted off into slumberland, I tip-toed through my cold moonlit bedroom in order to play with my doll’s house and illuminated it with the faint light of my torch which gave the tiny building the most dreamlike magnificence and the atmospheric grandeur of an old haunted manor. The interior architecture of my doll’s house was as real and lifelike to me as the house I grew up in and I sometimes still walk in these microcosmic rooms in my dreams. I think every child should have a doll’s house, a cardboard castle or something similar. And a torch. These things should be part of the Charter of Children’s Rights.
N° 5: I still read books under my duvet pretending I’m in a tent surrounded by a pack of drooling and howling wolves.
N° 6: Since the age of 6, I regularly dream that I wake up to a horizon filled with the glowing warm light of an atomic mushroom cloud. I’m so used to this sight by now that I wouldn’t be surprised when it finally happened.
N° 7: I live alone in our 6-room family home high above the city of Lucerne where 6 imaginary guests from 6 different centuries live and fill this house - and me - with an aura of wisdom and longing for the scent and heroic tales of past eras. The newest and youngest guest is a little misbehaving but curious girl named Emilie who always runs around the house and almost made me stumble down the basement stairs the other day. Three of those guests were already in this house when I went to kindergarten and played board games with me when the other kids played outside making loud disturbing noises. I never liked loud kids.
N° 8: Many moons ago, I made someone fall in love with me with the aid of a little powder of a secret substance that I burnt according to a witchcraft book that I still own (there’s still some of the powder left too…). I’m not sure whether I did everything right, or whether tiny particles of the powder touched me too, but if it worked, it obviously worked on me too since this person still appears in my dreams once a month or so.
N° 9: There’s a contract buried in a brown wine bottle at a secret spot in the forest behind my house that’s been lying there for over 20 years with my signature and someone else’s written in our own blood. The erosion of the earth must have carried the bottle away but I’m sometimes tempted to get a shovel and dig up the ground where we hid it oh so long ago.
N° 10: I don’t think I shower like normal people do. I actually sit down in my shower. Crouching and pretending I’m under a waterfall. I have the firm belief that it’s the biggest luxury on earth to have a shower with hot water and the time to crouch down in it, close one’s eyes and let the good and bad things of the day wash away in a stream of bliss. I like crouching in general and I find it most amazing that a fully grown human is only about 0.12 cubic meters big when crouching. We’re such small, weak and harmless little creatures when we’re naked and crouching. Yet, we think we can dominate over flora & fauna.
N° 11: My skin is colourless in direct sunlight. Not pale or white… just colourless. I always found this most scientifically confusing, but it’s true. And since the day that I – on my way home from the library – had the immense honour to briefly talk to the Methuselahesque Albert Hofmann about the inexistence of colours in this world, it does indeed make sense that my skin – like all other matter out there – is per se colourless. It’s just the surfaces and textures of omnipresent.. shapeless.. shapes that absorb, break and reflect light and thus create a breathtaking illusion that we refer to as “colours”.
N° 12: Ever since I discovered a clouded mirror in my granny’s basement as a little girl and looked into it with a mixture of fear and curiosity, I have lost all trust in mirrored reflections. I can find more truths about me, my real age, my strength, my skills and my experiences in the microscopic structures of the dorsum of my hand.
N° 13: I love travelling but I hate arriving. Which is pretty much the pattern of my life. I love starting things, researching and diving ever deeper into unknown places and topics, but I hate to wake up from an intellectual trance, to have to draw a conclusion, to come to a point… to step out and face the cold.
N° 14: I’m the fastest walking person known to mankind. I walk faster than tall soldiers with long strong legs. In fact, I walk faster than some people cycle. Yup. I love feeling how my body works, how the little cogwheels in my legs turn happily. I can walk for hours on end without feeling any physical tiredness in my legs. I think they might not be human legs, but complicated mechanical constructions wrapped in artificial skin. A means of transportation on their own. (Together with my trusty old Dr. Martens) They carried me up mountains, down dripstone caves, across a presumed minefield, along the entire Southern English coastline and through the deepest forests. Moreover, I don’t believe in the concept of “coldness”. There is no such thing as a measureable cold. Coldness to me is equivalent to standstill. Cold is when you walk too slow.
N° 15: I talk to lakes and rivers, mountains and forests, old tombstones and fortresses. And to the moon. 10 years ago, when I lived in self-imposed hermitism in Lindfield - a tiny village in West Sussex - there were no street lights once I passed the post office and the fat moon with its silky milky light the only guide back through the thick fog that came in from River Ouse. I’ll never forget the otherworldly night breezes that are so particular to that region. They sounded like the whispering voices of trapped souls circling around mighty oak trees, making their leafy branches shake with horror. Through all this invisible atmospheric turmoil, the moon guided me and my little red ramshackle bicycle across the beautiful graveyard of Lindfield, through the almost impenetrable cornfield (there was a secret path going through it that my host family’s utter mad dog Skerry showed me one day when running off after a juicy root vole) and across the public footpath - always overgrown with blackberry bushes as thick and intimidating as barbwire – that led to my then home.
N° 16: When I look at birds of prey long and attentively enough, I can fly with them and see everything from their perspective. I guess that’s the main reason why satellite images and applications like Google Earth never excited me much. I thought that everyone could do that journey, that change of perspective in their minds.
N° 17: I still find stars and distant planets one of the most beautiful and mysterious things and it sometimes pains me that human beings are not happier when they could just look up into the night sky and see this beautifully illuminated spectacle above their heads. Whenever there’s a clear starry night, I walk up to the highest hill I can find - away from the light pollution of modern civilisation - and gaze at the sky in silent awe. These are rare moments when I’m freed from questions and answers.. where there is just one static truth and a blissful white noise.
Summa summarum, I might be either completely nuts or one of the sanest people on this planet. And I don’t think it even matters. What really matters is that I’ve found a person who makes me ridiculously happy, puzzles and amuses me with his similarity to me and helped me stop smoking and start reading again. Thank you.