o urso mimosa
I
came because of the love to a girl. Maybe a not answered love. Because of a sad being in love. But didn't I dream of the sea anyway?
I
n my first dream I saw you smoking together with other photography students. You were so untouchable. You were so young. I felt like air. The second dream almost seemed like it would link with the first one. Again we sat in a group of people. We met behind the backs of the others and you smiled at met, bowed over to me and we kissed secretely. Only our mouth angles touched softly and shortly, then you stood up and went away. I followed you through the crowded streets and houses and lost you in a tower. From the inside it looked like an old church that has been converted into a green house, with a lot of huge plants. I wished I had kissed you in your bed, in the green light, at the shore of the river.
T
he jay croaks as if he would scream out old occult knowledge. As if he would teach me. "I told you so!", dark hands on my doors. Yes, maybe you are right.
I lift the lid and discover my Portuguese jumping spider. "Ha! You little thief you!", I greet her with a voice I would possibly also use for children. You know each other by now.
This place is very nice and let's me forget a bit what happened last night. The rustle and hum of a near highway and the loud roaring of a starting plane's turbines mixes with the cheerful music of different birds. At one bird it sounds like a submarine's sonar, just a bit higher. In front of me a lot of traffic. Bees fly in tangled zic zac lines around the flower bush before they land on the bloom to bath in the pollen in absolute ecstasy. Ant build two long straight streets on the curb. They reflect such a relaxation and nevertheless seem determined. As if they would have nothing to lose but yet everything. A man screams. Men scream. Why should it be different? I sweep the bread crumbs on the table onto my right hand and throw them in front of the door. Maybe for the ants or for the bird with the sonar.
W
hen I was walking through Lisbon, not knowing what I should do, I called my father. My father always tells random quotes of his childhood movies and series which nobody knows. I told him that I feel lonely and he answered with a citation from Urmel from the Ice Age. In that series there was an elephant seal called Seele-Fant. Seele-Fant said "I am alone on this world. I am on my own." This quote was the deepest thing my father ever said to me.
T
he waves build up. Emerald green barrels of glass for a short time. Before they collapse while leaning on each other. Everything is so glistening white. Like in a dream. Sparkling, the noise of pouring sand becomes louder and louder. Then for a short time silence. This silence.
T
here we are now. At the end of the world. We are rejected. We are lepers, bird free. During the sea swallows the sky we bite of the snake's head, our stomachs begin to ache. Is it already inside of us? We drink more often. To life, the health, to life.
H
e lost his head but his heart is open, he shows with his finger onto it. The head is turned off but he sees with the heart. That's like our last two months that we had together. As I tell her, tears gather in Tina's eyes.
W
e're at the end. The end of our journey, the end of our friendship? Another victim of the pandemic: the friendship of Tina and Jonas? We have nothing left to say. Tina is pissed because I don't talk anymore. I just fell quiet. She let's me feel her dissatisfaction and reacts with edgy silence. In turn my quietness hits hers: The devil's circle is closing. On the way to the airport, coming out of the speaker It's a wonderful Life, Nordisch by Nature, no god, no state, no work, no money. As we say goodbye at the gate we hug longer than expected. With a voice swallowed by tears I apologize for the last days. But for what exactly?
A
nd now? Is everything back to zero? It feels like that. It is like I hide and lock my inner feelings and keep for myself. Maybe disappointed or hurt for revealing them and yet not causing anything. In the end nothing changed.
I am tired and absolutely restless. I need movement and don't want to move at all.
I made a lot of mistakes. But was all this nothing but a big mistake? I don't think so.
S
omehow I just sit out my time. I feel like this place doesn't want to let me go, holds me with its beautiful dirty claws. It is like living on a big parking lot by a huge shopping centre. Cars come and go, people come and go. Only I don't come and go, I stay. Maybe, but only maybe, I will loose all my belongings and become one with the lagoon, like the folks foretold. Will get gills and webs, pop up here and there and let some ducks and seagulls disappear. The locals will talk about the legend of the lagoon being called Jonash.