Excerpt from "These Lost days"

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January 31st, 2014: Introduction:

A month begins in any day of the week. And ends when it feels like it. A calendar week starts on a sunday and goes on till saturday without relations to the month underneath it. The result is that between January 31st and February 1st there is a week. A week on a calendar that does not exist. In this gap a love letter to someone that was never there appears daily. Love Letters to people that i was never in love with, but still lost in time.

Sunday:

Dear Robert,

I have never met you and as probabilities have it,  will never meet you.   Most likely since you have been dead for more than a hundred years.

In the beginning of this letter i have to admit that I did not particularly like your books. Treasure Island was fine, but maybe i am not built for adventure. It is a personal taste, not anything of importance. I hope you are not offended.

I am writing to you, though, less because your books and more because of your life. I am writing for you because in your last poem (and it doesn’t matter now if it was the last you wrote or the last of that was written on you,on your gravestone, by your own request). In it you found home. You have done what i have not managed to do and so i wanted to write to you. For me, home still sounds like a machine gun rattling. I hope you’ll forgive me with burdening you in my silly quibblings. I guess you get much more interesting reads if that is possible where you are at. I  don’t want to ask you general questions about the afterlife. That seems like a waste of your and my time. There are people there that are better prepared to give an answer to that, It’s not that i don’t trust you. it’s just that there are better suited ghosts.

I do trust you, which is why i am writing. I am afraid of never finding a home. I don’t think i have ever felt like i am home. I am writing in the hopes that you will teach me. I don’t wish for you to teach me how to write, but just how to find a home. Or is it written on your gravestone since you have to die to find a home? Will i be lost until then? I am not sure i can handle that. I hope you can enlighten me.

There is another reason i am writing you and that you have written that you wish for the death to the adjective and death to the optic nerve. I am not sure what it means to me, but i think that i live my life too visually. I rely on sight, even though i want things to be, not just seen. The optic nerve of mine is already damaged, things are fluid in uncomfortable ways. The eyes are slowly moving down the faces of people i know for a while, noses grow in spiral motions, the mouths wander to about 10 inches in front of them. I think that is one of the reasons i never felt at home. It is hard to feel comfortable when everything is in flux, always.   

And as for death of the adjective, i think that is the answer to a question that i was asked earlier this week: What do you need to abandon in order to create? And maybe that is the answer. I need to let go of the adjective. If things are supposed to just be, not just seen then maybe the right thing to do is also have them as things that are indescribable. Something that is above and beyond my words, or any words. I need to let go of describing, just have things be as they are. What did you need to abandon in order to create? You must have left so much behind moving across the world in order to be where you wanted. Even though you ended on a small hill, without anyone close by, you ended exactly where you wanted be.

I am afraid i will never be home,

best regards and goodbye,

guy

Monday:

Dear Roi,

It has been about ten years since i last spoke to you. We were never close, or even actual friends, but we did live one next to the other for about two years. That was not a good time in my life. I actually don’t really remember any of those years, not because my memory is bad. I tend to think of it as quite good or at least other people mention it as such. It was only due to the fact that i prefer not to think of that time. Maybe in some other time if we would have met, i would actually talk to you from time to time.

You always looked as if you had just a rough morning with an electric razor. It was most probably true since we were forced to shave every morning back then. I wonder if you have a beard now? I know that you are probably doing fine. You seemed like the kind of person that was always on the verge of doing  fine. I know that that is probably not true. I even saw you when you weren’t fine, but still in my head you are always almost fine.

You are the first person that i thought of writing in these lost days. You were there when the fact that they exist came to mind. I don’t remember in which month it was. It was warmer than it is now, but that does not give me any information since there is a polar vortex going on. We were slightly drunk. It was during my work on the highly secret extremely urgent project, that i hated every minute of. It was a failure, but i didn’t know that until the end of it. I hated every moment of it. And there were a lot of them. I had to be working constantly and after a while i just had to get something out of my system. I knew that you had a way of always finding alcohol. you were not an alcoholic by any way i would measure, it was just a knack you had. During that night of drinking and the lack of sleep that was there before it, i asked you what happened to the days in the calendar on the wall that were there but not numbered. You looked at me like i was insane. you had general disdain to stupidity that you shared with everyone else in the area. I don’t think it made my life any easier. I think it was a mistake to even be there in the first place. I tend to think that people are smarter than me, and it didn’t help that it was probably true over there. It didn’t help that this disdain was so terrifying that all questions were stopped between the brain and the mouth. The shy one will not learn, and back then all I had was shyness and the wish to hide in a corner. But that does not matter to now, and I got sidetracked, so after explaining to me that they were just on another month, you realized that i am not that stupid. We spend the night drunkenly trying to figure out what can be done on the days between the months. days that are registered, but don’t exist. In hindsight, maybe that is a really silly literal metaphor, for how i was there - registered but not really existing.  

I hope you are well. I have no way of contacting you. You were smart back then. I don’t see a reason why you are not smart now. I was actually was told once that i used to be smart and what happened to me that i went to study art. I have no answer to that. I think i am a better artist than i was an analyst. Which is not a great thing to say, since i had a terrible time at that job. I would have been better at it if only i was not miserable. It doesn’t matter since there is no option of heading back. I keep talking about the past, but i want to tell you thank you. Thank you for making me aware of these gone days. Thank you for being a slow burn that now actually gives me a tether while my mind is gone to try to find something.

I will not try and find you. I don’t think it matters to you, and for me it will probably have a negative impact.

i do wonder what am i missing,

guy        



Tuesday:

Dearest Livia,

This probably is odd to you since you are not exactly loved anymore. Even though you are a goddess, even the pagans and neo-pagans ignore you. you are from the most oppressing of cultures.  True that became what it is after it evolved into christianity, that evolved into missionary racist crimes that still spin the world. You are not in fault for this. you were there for a time before it all happened, before Jesus came along. More importantly, you were there before Paulus came along. But this is unimportant.

I am not in love you, i actually don’t know what you truly were. However, I met you in a book that the author in a later date called a pornographic history. That might be true, but it  also just missed the point of your beauty in it. You were a villain, a manipulative cold hearted psychopath that killed everything close to it. That maybe true, but I think it is a mistake to look at you like that. You gave the people of Rome a better life than they had before you or after you. You were a singularity of insanity, turning it around on itself. The gravity became so strong, that  everything was inverted. The strong afraid to make a mistake, wanting your favor, yet afraid of seeming evil or greedy.

How did you have courage to do it all without the assurance of an award, and with fear of the afterlife as complete pain? You are braver than anyone else i have ever heard of. How was it in Hades? knowing not only the pains of hell, but also suddenly sure that you were betrayed by your own kin. I am happy you are no longer there. I am not sure what the Roman Godhood means to you, but at least you are not suffering.

I remember reading about you, and i remember feeling at first bad that jesus won the debate between you two. He is more abundant than you ever were, but his message was so mangled and changed, that it is unrecognizable by now. Maybe if you would have, your message of power and unrelenting would have been garbled in the same way and we would have a perfect world. I am sorry. I hope you get a lot of fan mail or at least share with other gods. Venus is still around sometimes. I don’t know if you have different classes or leagues in your godly realm. I hope you have someone to talk to.  

I am aware that life has changed much since your time. However, i am not sure people have changed at all. I do not think that in some other place we would have been friends or even talked to one another. I do think that maybe i would have looked at you from afar, if in your time on your throne, if in my time as a multi-billion dollar tycoon matriarch, the epitome of old money. You would have the finest taste in arts. You would have been behind a breakthrough group of artists that would put the YBA to shame. I might laugh at you around with my friends, but i will actually be fascinated with you. Like andy warhol with Jackie. You will be a fashion icon for ages. or at least so it will seem.

By the way I was at a party the other night and felt like i could at the same time not have existed and nobody would have noticed. This made me think of you, start a conversation with you in my head. I think that you would never be ignored, you are too important for that, too impressive. Even if no one there knew who you are, they will be attracted to you. Ice queens are always attractive, and you are no queen - you are an empress!

I have so much to write to you that i am not sure where to go with this. I wonder why it is easier to write to you than to the others. Maybe it’s because you are more fictional than the others. Maybe it’s because you are a strong killer of a  woman and i have a thing for relationships that could kill me.

In any case i hope you are still all right,

guy