nothing

имаш трънче в петата-
носи женско име.
пробва ли да го извадиш?
знаеш- няма да ти мине.

do you know what happened

Wednesday is a day of the week. In this small neighbourhood, Wednesday was the most beautiful, cheerful and smart girl to walk the street. We were all pretty sure we didn't know a girl that's better. Surely we remembered none. But what was so strange about Wednesday was...although she seemed to like many and chat with them, she never got too involved, never hung out with anybody, never hooked up or just made out after a few drinks. Never. She was legendary.
Then this asocial guy turned up to turn everything around. Sure, he had lived in the neighbourhood longer than some of us did, but never did we see him do much talking to any neighbour, or hanging around too, he was much too quiet. And it was this chap that made a move on Wednesday and succeeded! To all our amazement, he just approached her, must've done something funny cause she giggled, and spoke in a very low voice. She noded in consent and continued trimming the bushes in her garden, just waving him away. Like it was nothing! It all happened like it was nothing! Maybe they knew each other from before? I investigated the matter, the topic was hot with all us boys in the vicinity. It appears they met on some language courses they both took, though she never noticed him until one day he asked her out to a rare movie she actually loved. The coincidence seemed strange to her, and since she didn't believe in coincidences, she agreed. Never had she gone out with anybody else of us who asked her. Wednesday and I were very good chat buddies and that was all. She confided to me from time to time and that was the best anybody had achieved with her, apart from coworking and asking for help. And that stranger topped me and threw us all in the ditch with one lucky move. I, unlike the fair lady, did believe in coincidence.
We pointed out a fortnight later they had already gone out several times. It was all too obvious that whatever was evolving it was evolving big and strong. I tried to destroy it while still flimsy by some peculiar suppositions I made about the guy. No effect whatsoever. So we all just stood by and watched. They seemed happy and cheerful, completely satisfied with each others company.
One night though, when I was comming home from a party (sober, I must add) I saw them nerviously gibbering almost incomprehensive phrases, waving their hands, pulling their own hair or clothes in suspence and noone seemed to let the other one finish. I stood near by safe in the shadows of an elm tree and gave an ear to the whole scene. Made almost nothing out of it. They suddenly paused and stopped all the crazy motions, then just sat down by one another and fell silent for a long long time. I watched. She clasped his sleeve, he rubbed his knee, kissed her on the forhead and stood up.
Did I witness a break up, or a fail attempt for a relationship? I have no idea. Nobody had seen them even hold hands, so it could have been either.
Wednesday lost her color. Literally- her face got pale and her fair hair turned almost white. But she wore more dark clothes, baggy and worn out, as if she matched not the clothes to one another or to the occasion, but to her misery. I was nosy enough to ask how she was, what had happeden. The girl was gloomy and barely spoke. I admited I had seen them, just to provoke a strong reaction, but I failed. She just replied even she didn't know what was happening. One thing was sure- the chap was not to be seen too often any more. Was he hiding in a ditch? Did he go out only in the first a.m. hours? When rarely he was to go out, he would pass by her house and take a peek or great her if she just happened to be around. Maybe Wednesday was a great actress by birth, never did any foul emotion shine through her face. Whenever he passed by she was Miss Sunshine of Upper Hampshire. Then a month after the scene I was there was a fire in the neighbourhood. Wrong, two fires! Silly me. One was in Wednesday's house, the other turned out to be the guy's small two-floor accomodation. Both in one night, and in both cases no bodies were found. Nevertheless, nothing more was heard of Wednesday or her friend. They vanished into the huge void we call "somewhere on this planet" and I just couldn't explain to myself how or why did this happen? Where the hell were they? They were surely not buddies anymore. Surely they couldn't be dead. Neither of them. Or at least I passionately hope so. Did Wednesday light the houses up in feminine bitterness? Was he a psychopath and caused the fires for some reason? If any of these were true, why didn't the other person show up? I see no sense in causing an arson if you have murdered the owner of the house, unless you place the body inside it. And Wednesday was gone for good, we made an application in the P.D. stating she was missing and pronounced a reward some of us gathered. We all owned her something. The search for her went national, even if just to figure out the mystery- that was the purpose of the cops, let's not lie to ourselves. Nothing. The world gave us one big NOTHING and our brains nibbled on it for years afterwards. Do you, by some chance, know what happened? I just desperately need to know! Please, tell me if you know even the smallest bit about it! I need to know! I...need her.

...

В кукленото шоу на моят живот, можете ли да познаете кой е кукловодът?

Знак на пътя

Знак на пътя, пътен знак, предупреждение свисше или просто езотерично въображение. Изберете си по желание, никак няма да се трогна, нито мислите ми ще почнат да текат в друга пътека- когато аз гледам, виждам какво ли не! И преди няколко сутрини на път за университета видях гълъб на плочките на педи от краката ми да закусва със снощно повръщано! Няма по- голям билборд и по- ярка табела в небето от приземена птица, която се рови в човешкия отпадък! Крилата и способността за летене е нещо, което признайте си, под една или друга форма, човек желае да има- символният им смисъл е твърде силен, буквално е във всяко съзнание. И ето го там, това пернато, стъпило насред мръсотията и кълве лакомо изяден боклук, после повърнат в още по- разложена боклучена форма! Отвратително! На това прекрасно място живея! Където и хората и птиците са свине! И всичко живо тъне в отпадък, храни се с отпадък, произвежда отпадък- нехранителни, болни, негодни неща. В такъв сезон сме, че и времето ни е негодно в момента. Добрите мисли някак не са стимулирани. Аз продължих пътя си някак без да го виждам, а гълъбът продължи да си кълве снощна полусмляна мусака. Иска ми се да го питам...добре ли му е, че трябва да каца и така да се храни, след като има криле? На негово място аз никога нямаше да слизам. Щях да умра доволна от глад горе, сред хладния въздух, замаяна и напълно забравила за понятия като "долу". Нищо не би ме убедило, че долу има хора, коли, къщи, които са много по- големи от мен и си струват вниманието ми дори може би! Но не, човешката раса е опропастила всичко край себе си- цялата СИСТЕМА изобщо, не делим тук социални системи, екосистеми, политически системи- говорим за прекрасното, всеобхватно всичко! Колкото и добри да са били намеренията на едни, имало е и други...с лица чисти и добре поддържани и ръце до лакти в мръсотия. Затова пътят към Ада е постлан с добри намерения...те някак естествено вървят с този пакостлив и предателски чифт ръце. А всички недоволни от това? Спокойно, когато милионите начини да ги държим заети с дреболии спрат да действат, просто правим сериозна смяна на фасадата. Нещата са добре измислени от някой по- нагоре по стълбата към Рая. Наистина светът ни изглежда променен за изминалите дори 100 години, а какво остава за последните 1000. Но така ли е наистина, или само дрехите, нашите и на света, се смениха и са в малко по- удобна или просто различна кройка? В древния, мръсен до побъркване Рим гълъбите също така, скрити по тесните улички, са кълвяли хорската мръсотия. Край средновековните крепостни градове и замъци не се ли е виждало същото? И вкусът ни се променя, но пак си остава вкус към боклука. Нека епохите отминават. Човечеството вечно ще има шанса си и никога няма да достигне идеалните си 100%. Идеалът ни е да не успеем. Само така винаги ще имаме време, за да ги постигнем, тези 100%. А по пътя ще кълвем каквото намерим.

О/0

О като 0
порочен кръг пълен с надежда
О като обич и всичко красиво
Дали формата му е свещена
или триъгълникът е по- интересен?
Нека аз да съм А, ти бъди връх В,
лесно ще е С да намерим.

Не! Ние сме кръг!
Кой може да каже къде започнахме
и къде ли ще свършим?
Кръглата нула- човекът,
съвършеното, пълното нищо.

О като 0
просто красива прашинка в морето,
нищожна част от цяла безкрайност
Въртим се, въртим се по чистата нула
и голи и боси, оцапани, болни и зли,
красиви, честни, здрави, добри
и тъпкаме в съвсем нова, отлично позната пътека.
Душите ни сиви в умора, цели полепнали в прах.
О като кръговрат.