There are days when all sentences end in exclamation
marks. Even : I woke up this morning. I woke up this morning!
I laughed at my laziness. But man created God and
entrusted the creation of the world to God's hands.
Today I dedicated some of my thoughts to God. Just a few moments.
You can't think of God for long. I established the cowardice of God. He sent out his son to die for him. From his heavenly palace he watched while his
son was executed.
I was seized by the conservation of a pure body.
After I stepped out of the shower I put on my shoes and
started to make known my discomfort to everyone, but especially to the older couple
living under my rooms, by stepping back
and forth on the wooden floor.
I browse through an illustrated magazine. A picture of a
clown strikes me. I admire the perfection of his attire: the rag coat, the big
shoes, which make walking difficult. His
mouth is painted so that every smile will turn out sad.
At exactly three o'clock in the afternoon I woke up again.
I looked outside. I waited anxiously for the unveiling of her face. The face of
the woman, who removes her laundry from the washing line, on the balcony
diagonally opposite me.
I read Kierkegaard. For the third time. He writes somewhere that a woman is a man's
dream. He refers to the story of
Creation. God let a deep sleep come over Adam when he created Eve.
I join in the company of my thoughts and get drunk.
Just after six p.m. I wake up again. It is winter. I turn on
the lamp, the bright light hurts the eyes...
I think of her. She told me she didn't understand any of
my letters. Letters that I had written for her sake. Her lack of understanding did not sadden me,
I remember.
I close the door behind me.
I visit the cemetery, which is in the heart of the
city. While I went past the graves, I
wondered why we bury the dead with so many. Probably because of passers-by like
me. Someone who reads the names on the tombstones and then forgets them. In
such numbers it helps us to forget the dead, death.
I remembered that I was there once, ( I can't control
myself very well sometimes) and I shouted: Wake up, get up and go. The dead have
a hard time too.
Why didn’t stay at home tonight? She could have paid me an unexpected visit.
Months ago I wrote her a letter in which I pleaded
against myself. I remember one of the sentences from that letter: I don't want
to infect you with my meaninglessness.
[ Just to be near beauty, surrounded by beauty, to
examen beauty, (i.e.clarity). It is the only way to save me from tediousness,
from despair ]
How wonderful a machine the body is. You can make it
tired.
To restore order I washed my feet.
Around four o'clock a.m. I slept. Before going to bed, I remembered the
last words of Schoenberg : "Harmonie. Harmonie".
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