NOWHERE - dreaming the ohmland

dreaming the ohmland

Like in a dream inside a dream, I see myself arriving at this small town, actually walking along this narrow road with one floor houses on both sides, each of those houses having a small garden on the front, what looks to be a reminiscence from my hometown. And so yeah, as I advance, up there on the windows, actually, there are people beating pans and pots, just like a premonition, as if they were waiting for me, this is, actually, I can see their pans and pots moving on the windows, but not their faces… And thus, in the middle of this garish cortege I follow, happy, analyzing their rhythms, and sometimes, I also hear like muffled screams, callings, voices that are kinda familiar to me, but I can’t really understand anything from what they say, coz, it’s like they are howling, not really speaking, and so, I keep advancing, until that, I see myself in front of this huge lodge door where some young lads are actually seated on a wall, young lads that are also reminiscences from my childhood, I assume. And then, as it goes, they are also whispering things between them, as if, talking about me in my back, but, I can’t actually understand anything from what they say, so, there are only these looks. And then, it starts to rain, this is, a soft kind of rain, or maybe it’s not rain, maybe it’s people spitting up, this is, maybe slobber falling over from the sky, as we used to say when we were kids. And as it goes, the rain, or the spit, then, it’s actually getting heavier and heavier, and in a while, more and more village people are coming here with umbrellas, and this is, in an instant all these umbrellas are getting wrapped up in each other, and then, people are actually getting stuck at the entrance of this kind of lodge, and so, as I try to help them, I also get stuck in this mess, and   afterwards, this big door made of wood here at out front, as if automatically, it opens and, as this happens, everybody is pushed aback now, I mean, everybody less me, that stay here, in front of this opened door, feeling a great pressure, and as it goes, someone or something just pushes or pulls me in, and so, by now, I can't really counter this force, thus, there I go, being dragged inside, and then, hearing a big boom, this is, the sound of the door closing on my back. And once inside, here I go now, still staggering while my eyes are try to adjust to the twilight, and then, just then, I can perceive that the floor is actually not flat, this is, the floor is effectively made of black earth, something like that, and it has some bumps here and there… and then, just then, as I raise my head, I can perceive that there are almost no people here at the entrance, just this big man stretched against the stony wall, by the door, probably the securityman, looking up, and also, I actually feel this strong magnetism that makes me move away from him, and so, in a while, there I go, dragging myself more into the middle of the arena, an area where there are some people walking in circles, and so, as it goes, I even have to make a few pushes in order to get through, and with this physical contact, it’s like their dark faces are gaining new expressions, like, if before they were ghosts, now they are becoming more human. And in a while, afterwards, in front of me I see a very familiar character, it’s actually the butter-man, a mad bohemian character from my childhood, and once again, here he is, again, speaking through the elbows, monologues, as usual, already telling us his typical interjection: "shoup shoup shoup..." while passing me this big piece of butter, surreptitiously, and, at the same time, then, this guy with long dreads is actually coming against me, back against back, and so, straight away I pass him this same piece of butter that the butterman have just passed me, and now, here goes the rastaman, saying “the grass is always greener on the other side”, something like that, and as I hear this, I make as agreeing. And after some more turns, a lady with big tits and a fluff also comes against me, this one asking for money, and so, suddenly I run away from her, passing in-between some people that are wearing big jackets and clocks, even if it’s kinda hot here, and so, I pick one of this clocks, just in case, and move more to the sideways, by the stairs, where I find my old old friend Piricas. And so, as we meet, instantly, we hug each other, with contentment, almost breaking each other's bones. Thus, I ask him how he’s going, and straight away, he tells me that he has just escaped from the reformatory, that's what he tells me with his nasal intonation, and then, straight away, I introduce him to the butter-man, and, at this point, the two begin some kind of confederation, and then, as I go through, someone puts a bowl of wine in my hands, and, as I drink, this someone just asks me “Do you know why Jay Christ came so late?"; "No idea!"; "Nor me, but before his arrival the cow and the donkey were already waiting for ages…" and as he says that he shows some kind of strange 3 grimace, and then, out of nowhere, we also can hear a squeaky laugh romping, and as we look in that direction, we can already see a certain figure wrapped in scarves coming from the laterals, this is, a figure pushing some kind of shopping trolley full of trash, and as it goes by, she/he is actually blowing kisses to everybody in this area here... and then, as this creature approaches, to my surprise, I also recognize this personage, it’s actually Zara, her face painted like a puppet, as usual, but, she’s not coming close by, actually she goes towards the toilet entrance, and then, coming from inside the toilet area, we can already hear her mad laugher, echoing through the cisterns, and as this happens, there goes the butter-man, also running into that same toilet… and so, in the meanwhile, that woman with big tits like melons that were asking for money before, is actually here now, meeting Piricas, my friend, the psychiatric-hospital escapee, and then, there they go, moving somewhere, together. And now, I run away from all this, moving more into the middle zone, where there are more people, the well dressed ones… and so, I try to stick through this crowd, but, it's not easy, because, these people here do not want to move, i mean, they are actually dancing very slowly to a quite minimal kind of techno music, like mummies, and then, finally, I manage to arrive at the front, where is this kind of Irish bar made of black varnished wood. And, as I stand here, now I see some girls and guys actually leaning against this same bar, and, I also notice, all this girls here are actually much taller than the men on their back, telling things like "the square root of the adjacent collateral must be..." or "the soul of the impubescent system that..." or "the disaffection of knowledge that is significant..." or "a bulge in the facts in convergence..." or "the dualistic and central ideas of..." or "the new powers provided for instance in between the statute…" and such other barbarities the likes. And, as I hear all this, I guess this is all people connected to the show-business, and those tall girls without enthusiasm, maybe wanna-be models, or perhaps mere presenters of television in quarantine. And so, in the meanwhile, the barman looks at me with that look, I know, he will give me nothing, coz, he’s even more bored than all of us. And now, about the music coming from the bar speakers, it makes me remember the bumper-car tracks of my infancy, plus the stupidities generally associated with them. Thus, I’m also not feeling good here, and so, I try to move more to one of the sides of the bar, looking for something different, because I'm getting all deaf and dumb here. But, when I reach one of the maids, and ask her for free drinks, she, either does not understand or doesn't want to understand. And so, as I point to the beer taps, they turn their heads to other sides and rush to serve other bored customers. But, I don't give up so easily, and so, already turning back, I look around to see who can I outrage now. And further there, more to the sideline, yeah, I see a lady in a vest dancing awkwardly with two glasses, one in each hand. And thus, there I go, moving straight to her side and quickly asking her for a drink, but also quickly, she confesses, smiling, that she’s actually waiting for her future husband, and so, whoever takes her drinks will have to marry her. And I, well, I kinda agree with that, even telling her that I wouldn't mind marrying her, but, she assures, “I can see that I’m not your type…” and so, I have to move away again, this is, better to leave her alone now… and, as I move back, I perceive some guys that are confederating on international football, or something the likes, and so, there I go, already approaching them, and, as I do it, they seem to get a bit upset with the fact that I’m putting myself in the middle of their conversation. Even so, the first thing they do is ask me that perennial question about “my club of election”. And there I go, trying my luck, letting myself be realistic for a while. And so, I tell them that I have no club of choice, that I go with everyone and I do not belong to anyone, but somehow, I prefer the stripes, the black and whites... And, as the guys hear this, they seem to get very happy with my comment. And then yes, they even pay me a drink, a big one, and here we go, all making toasts now,  “a toast to the black and whites” they say. And thus, now, I really drink it all in a sudden, because I was really thirsty, and so, as it goes, “who are you, after all!?”, the guys ask, and I well, I say that “I'm some kind of actor on a loan escaping from a bad movie in order to find love, something like that…” I say, and as I say this they all get silent. And then, there I go, getting away from them, moving in the direction of the corner, and, as I get there, I look into some kind of mirror but, I can’t reallyI see myself, this is, what I see is another familiar face approaching in my back, this is, first a face, then a body dressed in sportive clothes. And as I turn I see, this is Mika, and as we meet we also hug each other and give pats in the back of each other,  and straight away, we are remembering that story about a   bathtub we stole from some kind of posh house, how we pushed it out of the room through a window, how we made it come down through a fat tree on the side of that same house, and how we crossed almost all the city, an unknown city, dragging that same bathtub with us… even taking people inside it, and then, as I think about this, Mika is gone, and so, while I walk around looking for him, at some point I find myself at the top of a the spiral staircase and down I go... around through the spiral staircase... and, before I reach the bottom, I actually stop... now trying to spot any familiar face in this kind of manifestation/performance that is going on here. But actually, I can't recognise any faces, coz, most of them have blinds on their eyes and there they go, twirling around themselves while screaming stuff related to the word CRISIS. Stuff like "Long live to the crisis” they say, in unison, “the crisis is friendly, the crisis is great... the crisis was already here when we came... the crisis is primordial… long live the crisis, love the crisis, live the crisis, trust the crisis... because the crisis is the challenge of nature itself…” And now yes, there I go, advancing in the middle of it, trying to pass as unseen, but, it's impossible, this is, they promptly come to me, involving me in their performance, still screaming “long live to the crisis, because from the crisis comes the cutting-edge technology... the crisis appeared to kill our desire for reality... the crisis exists because men can not live only from dreams... the crisis is a river that belongs to the monopoly of the creator... the crisis is the main energy of the universe itself... the energy contains the lizard's tail in the snake's tongue... and so, in the name of the father, in the name the untie, and in the name of the son and in the name of the holy bitch, long live the to the CRISIS... let's dig our fertile lands... let's plant the CRISIS, let's pick the CRISIS, let’s love the CRISIS now... yes, let’s hug the unknown", they say. And so, when I reach the other side of this CRISIS room, I enter a smaller room where some youngsters, girls and boys are seated on the floor in a circle, and as I sit by their side, one turns to me and says "Close your eyes bro, and you will see, the panic turning into mint, you know, we are the matter yield by the navel… you know, this ventricles here carrie only love and nothing more, you know, we are doomed to give and to receive and all this illusion is real, everything is real, we are more real than the conception of reality yeah!” And then, not enough, another guy, like in some kind of poetry competition, says something like “through the ruins of the memory the circulation may become slow and heavy as the irony falls into the gutter... and then, there are this sirens that never stop... day and night a permanent pulsar... and so, the reason is, it's always a good time to leave... being in the shadows creates worms, and worms are bad advisors, they have a crush on philosophy and sooner or later they will spit their viscous in your face…” he says, with a strange intonation.