Posted by: Sk | February 14, 2009

Chapter 9: International terrorism

It’s five days since I’ve last written something on this computer. Sask has disappeared ever since and I’ve plunged in tv studies. I must look like a parrot trying to repeat words of unknown meaning I seize more or less as they sound from the most different programs you manage to follow in one or the other channel – I hope nobody is in the wherabouts.

That’s how I learned French when I was 23. Sitting for hours at night in front of television watching ‘mission impossible’ – which was perhaps not chosen accidentally. As much the one, as the other to learn French quickly enough. Of course my aunt’s dictates were of help, too (I shouldn’t mention her, as I’ve had some quarrel with her, but you should always respect teachers even if they are aunts you finish by quarreling with). I still remember as if it were today. It was summer and some newspaper was trying to fish in summer and beaches lost readers with the silliest love story I’ve ever heard of in my life. Kind hungarian prince in love with a poor maid and I don’t know what and this was chapter after chapter the contents of my dictate. It wasn’t that bad, finally: impossible missions and hungarian princes finished by allowing me enter the Sorbonne French course for foreigners, second rank (first were the best). I still wonder how I managed to learn so quickly so many things, but it is an evidence that after just one year of French I managed to get even into Sorbonne, philosophy department, without problems with the language (?!): I wasn’t that proud of myself at those times, but now, in these miserable circumstances, I’ll have to attach special merits and values to things I didn’t consider before. So. Perhaps I still have some skills left from before and manage to learn a few words of this peculiar language. Shir means song, but that I was told by Shiri a long time ago. And the possessive pronouns are put behind the noun. Thus ’shiri’ means ‘my song’. Like in Turkish, although the endings are different. And ‘manishma’ means hello or how are you. I was told by Yusif in 2003, and that’s about all I know. On top of that, they have unreadable letters. Not enough with learning cyrillic and greek letters I would have to take some lessons in design in order to get this alphabet, too. Not to become ridiculous, I mean. There was a chinese student at Sorbonne at those times and I told her to write some characters on a paper. She did. And I copied (while the teacher was declining some subjunctive). She said: you write like a child. Which was an evidence. I never tried again. There were many, on top of that.

There was someone, today. A young man, of about 30, sitting in the courtyard, frozen to death, smoking a cigarette in bluejeans and a bordeau pullover. It is thus possible to get out to the courtyard. Although I don’t know if I’d dare. I just have a pullover and a leather jacket that resist temperatures of about 25°, but not less. I wouldn’t like to look like the guy. The poor. Here you can smoke where the coffee machine is, and only. Luckily I’m alone. There must be little women to look as criminal as I do. But there must be more men. They must be the other side of the courtyard. Perhaps he was fed up with too many of them. It happens. He looked up to where I was (I and spying around) and he really looked very sad. But it may have been the cold.

I know now how I’m going to get out of here. Concepts won’t help. Your enemy is always your best friend, because you don’t have to trust him. It took 5 days in order to develop such strategy and parrots help. In fact it is relatively easy, I should have thought of it before. But it is, too, that I have to think of other things at the same time. Like, what to do after. The street isn’t very confortable and here it is warm. Cheap, on top of that. But if I manage to get rid of half of the problem by putting it on Sask’s shoulders, I’ll have the time to try solving the other one by myself.

It’s an evidence and a question of simple psychology that she would leave me free even now, infringing national and international laws and putting my life in danger of death. Kind, forgets the door open and run away. It’s obvious. It was a very low stroke and that weakens defenses. But it won’t help – it wasn’t the purpose, on the other hand. Where am I going to go now with all these accusations registered everywhere and on top, being a fugitif. I hate illegal situations. No. I have to do something in order to make her do my job. It’s easy. Bad consciousness induced after having had such criminal intentions that may have cost her her career, on top. What? Are you going to loose your job just because a wicked psychopath is assimilating criminal behaviour to social behaviour? Such a weakness. Gonna loose a war if you go on like that.

There is a story like that of the second world war. German were arriving to the Greek borders but the motorized section had gone stuck somwhere. The valley which allows to pass from Bulgaria to Greece is very narrow. German soldiers were ordered to continue without support, in lines, one after the other. The Greek general would not be able to shoot them all down as they were arriving and capitulated. See? It may have consequences.

Now. How. I have to launch a seduction strategy. A weird one. It should allow to keep enough motivation in order to have my job be done and without further implications that may put my whole strategy in danger. Look. The concept of the ‘prison’ is amphibious. Half a hospital and half a prison. If I enter the concept of the place, I must be have a woman, half a man. If I determine my body as woman’s, and my soul as man’s, I can fall in love with a man’s soul, I may hypothetically situate in Sask’s environment. A man’s soul is spatial related and body related (so low), the induction will have as consequence that a man’s soul assimilates herself to a man’s body, who falls in love with a woman’s body, myself. From that point of view it is still legal, but in proper realization, it is forbidden. I mean you can be tolerant if you want, but erotical interaction between officers and prisoners is out of law. Thus, she’ll have to repress, while I look out of the window. Repressed means not make disappear. Thus. She’ll have to concentrate her attention on something that may at the same time keep some feeling alife. A good excuse. “I need to start some investigation concerning the exact nature of the danger implied by the subject and to establish the authenticity of some facts as there may be suspicion, there were a net of international terrorists behind.” For sure, she has it. She’s quite respected, it seems, all those guards do almost fall to her feet whenever she passes by. You should always profit of all circumstances.

There we are. Perhaps she can translate my peculiar conceptual world into a more common one. In any case, I have to catch her attention first. International terrorism is always attractive for those minds and even if it may all be lies, it will certainly distract her from the bitter feeling of a horrible defeat. It’s an evidence. Now she’s sure that for the first time in her life she has  fallen into someone’s trap. Mine. For the time being she suspects it is the German, which makes her furious and this, you should profit of, too. Certainly it is German who have sent in a synthesized copy of my work of art, along with the long list of accusations. It’d make her furious and they’d get rid of the prison expenses. They’re like that. That was because of the glassmaker daughter who went furious just because she thought children were similar to rats in concept and neurological functioning.

For the time being she certainly does not suspect that I induced such a thing alleging costs as the danger was increasing every day, and I certainly don’t trust them. She’s furious with German. I’m not going to run away, patiently waiting for all my accusations to be cleared up (three years, at least, seen the amount), which means hundreds and hundreds of shekels (new ones). Not that they spend a lot in food but heating must be expensive.

Innocently, as usual, I’m going to start some contemplations on right and politics that will lead to one point or another affecting international terrorism. I’ve to work it out, but the plan should work.

Texts left in the computer


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