A full moon in a China-blue evening sky. Two were going down the stairs in the yellow light of the old staircase lamps, rusty tin cans filled with cigarette buds, two broken beer bottles and the smell of dampness, One had experienced déjà vu and glanced sideways for his backup. The one who was walking behind was holding his breath, counting steps, finding himself in a state of conflict after another discussion they just had up in the kitchen, by the table. The kitchen was filled with tobacco smoke, was his last thought, before his face hits the condensed, cold fresh air of the 19th day of October.
Both tall, wearing long coats, led the way across the street into the lights of the night shop.
He selects a cheap whiskey and extracts a sheet of money to pay for his fuel of the past two nights with his pal.
They walk out, making a walk around the block, looking at the lights reflected on the wet ground. It started to rain more often in the evenings, the past days or weeks…
They go back up, all the way to the last floor, He measures out fifty grams of his fuel and pours it in his cup with bitter and spicy cinnamon tea. Sits down at the table, and his legs are slowly stretching out, making the whole body lined up, in a relaxed position with a few balancing points.
Another one finds himself seating by the window, looking down to the river, still wearing his coat, already feeling a little sick of the thick, stale air in the room. Opens the window breathing heavily, inhales his smoke and seats down looking at his collocutor.
“So, you say it was an accident that it happened? ”
“no, I did not say that. I said that I was not aware of its happening”
“Killing can become an addiction.”
“you are killing me, lets get back.. The desire of this experiment is not just concerned with the result, but with action, and it is a beautiful process of dissolving the living object until the arrival of death. The transformation of the experiment into reality and reality into the experiment.”
“I agree, you should do it. Life-and-death struggle.” Showing his teeth in a knowing smile.
“.. Our ordered and organized society allows neither for wilfully executed destruction nor for self-destruction. But the destructive experiment follows from a constructive attitude.”
Conversation changed direction for its unknown big number of times and for another hour they were discussing how they make their own gang and were going to rob banks and smuggle their experiments with out paying any taxes. After those thoughts both came to a conclusion that choosing to be who they were, might not be a very promising future, and they thought they were intelligent enough to make it where they want to.
Soaping themselves with their own stories, the conversation went for another ever.
They sat there in the kitchen on a Monday, the 17th of October, around evening time, because one friend needed to share his thoughts, with his good old mr.O.
They talked for good 37 hours out of 122 they have spent together those days. Escaped their troubled thoughts by a vague uneasy feeling of universal damage and loss...
One thinks of knowledge can be an explosive instance. Another one was always good at taking things apart and fixing circuits. They were good together, but even better they were apart from each other, finding themselves working and waiting for the moment to share with each other.
This two have known each other for sometime now, and every once in a while, they met to plunder their own past with stories, come up with new present and dream about the future.
It was their food for until they were hungry for it again.
They can go on from there in any direction.
den haag 2017 for A. friend