I’m a middle class loser and I like my windows clean. It’s the first thing I cleaned in the new flat: the bedroom windows. There are useless things I like. Porcelain crockery, silver tea spoons, old-time beauty, but like my mother, precious beauty. My mother is an extremely simple person, really humble, down to earth etc. She considers pretty vulgar my way of dealing with certain stuff, like telling too much and showing off, which she’d describe as “stupid”. She is right and she really considers it as the most vulgar thing on earth. A couple of months ago I was there when this woman responsible for a costume museum in town told mom that everybody loved a certain dress my grandmother gave them, it must be something mid-1800. There was a certain way the lady could put up the edge of the dress to walk or something without making a real effort. My mom totally “diminished” the whole thing making a joke. When we were home I said “Mom I’ve to tell you something but please don’t get angry…” before I could even say it all, she said sharp “People HATE show-offs!”. I feel so stupid everytime. I am stupid why I am also writing it here. At time I appreciate my stupidity, it keeps me company. At times, I must say, she wears some rings if I ask her to. She has beautiful hands and she loves rings, but like me, she only loves beautiful rings. When it’s the “right time”, she wears them. She is maybe the only one who can really get my taste, we like the same things and we’re disgusted by the same things. She is the only one I would ask an opinion about a vase or a ring or a suit. I love mom.
In the last two months I got sick like four times. In the past years I almost never had fever before. I handle that the way my dad would, “just keep doing your thing, it’ll be over soon”. I always succeeded in it, but still four times “in a row” is too often. Plus I’m always feeling dizzy. Often when I climb up/down stairs I feel vertiginous. At times I stop for a couple of second or I just try to have something to touch or grip right next to me. I eat a lot, but I don’t eat often enough. I know my body very well. It’s screaming DANGER! DANGER!
When I was sixteen years old, I was often feeling bad. I got my blood tested and everything looked okay. After one year I had to change school. I went to a new school in a new town where I couldn’t be a new person, because everybody knew about me already, but I wasn’t feeling that same bad way anymore. I was alone there, but it was better.
Now, after two months of little fever and weight loss, I started doing my usual BEST thing: scratching. NOT again! But I started. Something is going wrong again. I’m extremely sadly giving up my german classes, I need time to do so many things, and also if studying german is something I actually like, my body and my head, the whole thing together is saying “you’re doing too much, we’ll abandon you at some point”.
I became completely pessimistic and optimistic at the same time. I feel a mixture of shit. The idea of death destroys and terrifies me but helps as well, all we do is social convention, so without being an “animal”, which stands for “dangerous”, why shouldn’t I say to anybody I like and meet on the street “hey hi do you want to fuck?”. Why should I worry about the way I look? Why do I have to g a t h e r stuff, to feel comfortable while drowing in futile memories?
Yes, yes, I love memories. The day my grandfather died, I killed a rose. I still have it with me. It’s so useless, but why should I care? Society is shit, because society is composed by anonymous strangers. It all makes no sense. What I fear is that I reached the point I could do everything, or nothing at all, since it’s all a useless game, and we struggle for nothing at all.
We struggle for nothing at all.