I’m logging in for the first time after a long time. I don’t know exactly how long.
I’m logging in to see my friends.
I never told anyone what happened to me during all these years. I was hoping that the process would somehow slow down. At first. Then I hoped that it’s reversible. I was even naive enough to think that there might be a cure for it.
I tried to understand how it started and I have a couple of theories. I thought that it could have been a result of a very rough night. A really bad night. This is of course after I exhausted all other means of thinking about my condition. I thought if I understood WHAT it is, maybe I will be able to come to terms with it. But after a while, it didn’t matter anymore. My shape, my senses, my feeling of my intestines, my feeling of my lungs, my feeling of my heart beating, became something else, something not mine any more. What I know for sure is that at one point, my body rushed to the future, but then we got stuck.
I remember the last time we were outside, blasting music from the car, intoxicated, red in our faces, red in our eyes, red in our throats, red pumping inside us.
When I was a child, I imagined that blasting music from a car, running down the hill, fucking someone you really love, dancing in the darkness of a sweaty mass of strangers, standing on the spot where two seas meet under the full moon, happens all the time. I imagined that drinking, fucking, blasting music and seeing magnificent things belongs to one state, the only state that would deserve to be called adulthood. I guess that was very childish of me, but it doesn’t mean that adulthood didn’t disappoint me. In some way, what has happened to me can be called magnificent.
I will log in to see my friends who I didn’t see for a very long time. They will see me and then they will know. I don’t know how people feel when they meet me, but I know that I don’t meet people for a second time.
After it happened I started remembering everything. And remembering is a business of going backwards – it makes me see a lot of rubbish I don’t know what to do with. Last night, some hills and meadows on the locations on which there is nothing now. Not something that I would like to devalue, not buildings, or concrete streets, but annihilated space, with occasional poisonous sprouts of life.
In the middle of it I saw a woman, short hair, leather jacket, under which she had nothing except her tattooed skin.
Koi fish on her back.
She turns around, opens her jacket and as I look at her flat chest, she starts growing antlers. Scared, but I do come closer, and she doesn’t back off, too immersed in the process that seems to be turning her on. Unnoticed I look at her new body parts, how it builds itself, bone-like, snake-like, firm but soft at the same time, moving up and bifurcating.
She looks at them in two small heart shaped mirrors (I caught her blue eye in one of them)- then I hear her thinking: IN BLOOD AND CHANGE EVERYTHING BEGUN.
Then she ran on all fours into the wildness.
When my friends appear I will say: Let’s look at my body, part by part, together.