chapter 1 (international)
Today i was walking down a certain street, and this guy wlkaed up to me and was like: "Do you know what time it is?" , so I checked my watch and told him a certain time. It was correct and the guy was pleased. I was pleased he was pleased. That kind of pleased me. Then i felt this strange feeling. It came down from the inside. It was a thunder-like feeling. It felt peculiar. It was a bit more mellow than thunder, but nevertheless it reminded me of it. I asked myself: "what is this feeling, and why do i have to walk around with it?" I didn't have much time to ponder, because my train was leaving in 20 minutes and i had to buy some flowers first. So i started to run, ignoring the pain. "Crazy whopper!", the man with the beard said. I saw I still had my left leg cuffed to my left arm, and it probably looked weird running around like that. I wanted to uncuff myself, but the pain got worse rapidly, what made it hard to move. I was in a difficult situation. "It is the year 2005", i thought to myself, "and, in spite of the terrible pain that comes from my inside, I'm trying to buy flowers and then catch a train that leaves in 19 minutes, with my left arm and leg cuffed." Though circumstances were tough and my goal was far from reached, I felt I still had a chance. I'm going to fr- "GOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMMMMMM GOM GOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGGGOMGOM" (.....) "GOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMMMMBOGOMGOMGOMGOMGOM" I was unable of listening to my own thoughts, because the feeling I had (that came from the inside) made a terrible sound, which was getting louder and louder. The good thing about it was that it also made it impossible trying to figure out what these voices in my head were trying to tell me. They spoke in a foreign language, so I couldn't quiet understand them, but I could hear they had something important to tell me and were very eager to do so. These sort of things usually don't work out. At least not for me.
What does work out for me? What do I want from life? Why am I cuffed? Questions. Questions I forced myself to answer, if only the noise would stop. So, if I would manage to stop the noise, I would be able to answer my questions and, eventually, get myself out of this unfortunate position. Wait... I AM thinking this, which means I'm thinking. Wait! What are these black spots, ruining my vision? Why has everything become blurry? I didn't know, I didn't have the time to think it over properly, because I fell asleep.
The first thing I saw when I woke up, was a football. The second thing I saw, was a spectaculair view over a city that I called mine, I recall. I was lying on the roof of a building, next to a football. "Somebody must have kicked it up here", I remember thinking. The pain had stopped and my arm and leg were uncuffed. I felt free, nearly perfect. The pain had stopped, and with the pain, the noise had stopped. Now the noise was gone I could here the voices again. They were unintelligible to me.
I felt naked. Probably because I was. I had nothing except for myself and a second-hand football. It was enough for now, but I knew I would need more later on.
While at home, the feet of mr Bongy-Fing smelled of sweet farm-animals, I was on top of a buiding, enjoying a spectaculair view over my city. The enjoyment stopped, and I longed for ground-zero. It felt delightening when I had found a way to the nearest elevator. Unfortunately it was out of service. There were no stairs. How do I get down? How did I get up here? Probably, when I got up here, the elevator still worked. That didn't matter now, I had to think of a way to get down, and I didn't mean jungle-boogie style. I meant down to the floor, down to the ground. Down to ground-zero.
(to be continued in chapter 2: Down to ground-zero)
What does work out for me? What do I want from life? Why am I cuffed? Questions. Questions I forced myself to answer, if only the noise would stop. So, if I would manage to stop the noise, I would be able to answer my questions and, eventually, get myself out of this unfortunate position. Wait... I AM thinking this, which means I'm thinking. Wait! What are these black spots, ruining my vision? Why has everything become blurry? I didn't know, I didn't have the time to think it over properly, because I fell asleep.
The first thing I saw when I woke up, was a football. The second thing I saw, was a spectaculair view over a city that I called mine, I recall. I was lying on the roof of a building, next to a football. "Somebody must have kicked it up here", I remember thinking. The pain had stopped and my arm and leg were uncuffed. I felt free, nearly perfect. The pain had stopped, and with the pain, the noise had stopped. Now the noise was gone I could here the voices again. They were unintelligible to me.
I felt naked. Probably because I was. I had nothing except for myself and a second-hand football. It was enough for now, but I knew I would need more later on.
While at home, the feet of mr Bongy-Fing smelled of sweet farm-animals, I was on top of a buiding, enjoying a spectaculair view over my city. The enjoyment stopped, and I longed for ground-zero. It felt delightening when I had found a way to the nearest elevator. Unfortunately it was out of service. There were no stairs. How do I get down? How did I get up here? Probably, when I got up here, the elevator still worked. That didn't matter now, I had to think of a way to get down, and I didn't mean jungle-boogie style. I meant down to the floor, down to the ground. Down to ground-zero.
(to be continued in chapter 2: Down to ground-zero)