Отклонения, лирически и прозаически
Fragments
Fall Adream

Perhaps there will always be that questioned presence of someone you are awaiting at your doorstep; or is it rather the sensation of a lost presence that we so dearly pursue, and dream of.

When you are here, by my side, I don`t know. 'Know what?' you might ask, the reply: 'Well, had I known, I`d never said I didn`t know, would I?' The small and the big things - you are always on my mind but what are you? An idea, or music, or a smile or touch? Having those, it seems, is not of any use, I don`t really feel them, I don`t really know them. Do I miss them? Well, perhaps I do; perhaps I question your presence, anticipating it. Sometimes I feel like praying that... No, that was a lie - a big fat one. I don`t pray. I don`t like the way the word sounds. It reminds me of prey. Praying turns one into prey. 'Ask' sounds much more healthier and reasonable. Every now and then I ask that omnipresent idea for a dream to become dreamable. And, on the verge of giving up, a dear salvation from a tortured sleepless night, I fall adream. And then no vulnerability, no sensuality even, disturb the journey I embark on. And the words emerge from the nothingness and constitute devices of knowledge that I sometimes give shape to, writing them on a sheet to never look at for the second time. Thus, I suppose, I`ve wasted a forest or two, seeking answers of questions umasked.

Or is it actually anything more than an exercise of the language apparatus? Should I be worried about the lack of coherence that others shall find in the substitute for a dream I have invented in my restless effort to care. For care I do, but of my own caring rather, because no one ever cares back at the same time, in the same way, and knowing that things indeed are the way they should be, doesn`t really help. The endeavour of a mindless journey forth, a tiresome one, has given no effect again. And there I am, sitting back, bent over a sheet of paper, analyzing the lack of presence, and then I simply let go the effort, let go the pen, let go the craving and I pull the sheets over my head.

Waiting to fall adream, I fall asleep.