Some notebooks were found:


Down on the farm

……….Trees, plants and soil …….down on the farm………………could be, so well…… …………………you get so tired of sleep and no-one believes you are there……down on the farm.

……..as I pass my fingers through your hair, I miss that sound, I remember


” pray tell me my little jewel”…..“there must be something somewhere”.

Dried up fields……..no well….so still…

Foxy foxy……you’re the one I adore

..it looks like a crown. They can’t borrow what they have found here…………………some things just gleam and sparkle like glitter……..in the wind and all the fountains are shut down. The glare, I will never forget that glare…………………….Light and the sound begins.

Fog, then today rain.

The light goes on.

Paradise, smile, solve….and no pleasure.

I have been walking 200km

Wind and light

Mystery and walking

Living truth

200km more

There is too much to see.


I heard you say unto me……..”dissolve, reveal. Dissolve then reveal”

Take some advise, just listen and don’t answer back they say, me in yours, your in mine….burning rocks, fire at 5.00am, no snow melting, wait, weight, big vibrations, draughts, look at the water, shimmering.


Shining you wrote me.

300+ 33 touches I counted………333 serial number.


I remember a bright afternoon, seasons pass, leaves, raindrops, tapping windows, ravishing, silly things, singing songs, crazy things……….one drop on the back of my hand…..fire, burn, dreams and the room keeps speeding up.


Swim….I lay my head in your lap…swim…..I could die a couple of times for you…swim…….it’s the shadow that swims.

listen, ..........10 or 100 years sleep..............it doesn't matter....................................this place

Postscript or something like that.

When there is no fire left …no flame…nothing to burn or fight about…..how long?…is it now?

Masha to Misha

God that was strange to see you again………all this time…how long now?….and there you were just walking along…………past that post, past those small fences, past those trees cackling in the wind………….no introduction……you smiled and said “yes you” and in that instance it started blowing really hard and snow too…..oh what a hiatus…...We captured a sledge and we drove in silence across that white desert, past dancing trees, beyond the sound of dogs and into no-places……..I know it was you…….and then you just said “I told Zoya…..that those scars are a mess on your porcelain skin……and Zoya said to me, I tried to reach deep but couldn’t get in”….I remember you said this.

Masha to Misha

Misha Misha…all this time, all this beauty…just look……Misha I will write your name in that tree and I’ll tell you the names of all the people who passed through that house and those places…each and every one…….and then I heard this, “live through this and you won’t look back, live through this and you won’t look back…”………Misha and Masha laugh…I know, but look at us now………Misha there is one thing I want to say, listen I’m going to brave so listen……..all that I wanted I gave, I’m not sorry I met you, I’m not sorry what I’ve said, I’m not sorry al this is over, I’m not sorry we have nothing to say…… I remember those steps the windows the doors the wood the smell the taste the colours I still feel them now. I’m not sorry.

Winter: Strange but beautiful sounds, mysterious sweet smells and cold to touch.

Its so far…………cruelty and shorelines…………..they laugh together…then they heard together “oh this weather and the weather, sway in time to the weather”….more laughter……..

Misha speaks:

………but you sing……and you dance………and will forever…………… and your heart is sick with wonder……………look at the snow on the ground…………………………………………………………………… ……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………Stop breathing for me…………………I need to sleep….……..there is nothing to say.

Masha…do you understand this?……..can you?…..its that sound, what a sound…the snow coming down….blue light….you just can’t stop talking, you mustn’t…..here in the glittering light, a golden slipper…no sunlight with all anger just simply abandoned.

Misha….listen up and listen good…lord oh lord….you put these things in my ears…so straight talking ok….clear…straight…..all this makes me so downhearted…c’om on…and this place I c’ant see it anymore…..I don’t see…………invisible?……..too sweet you see…its just innuendo. I’m not out of this world or ever was, not sinister, not immortal and now you say don’t be crazy, those words in my ears…sideways. And something you said to me..ee…ee..e…pah do they know what it is like to be given new “accommodation”.

ACTUALLY.....................................just 3 steps down...........


invisible................space being







same for me.

facing north


All events, places, times, characters are intentionally true, even if it never happened.





1.Fokin listen to this…….” I might have been some time”

2.……..………..ok ok ok, but there is something I have wanted to ask you….is it me or what I am looking at?

1.I don’t know………..lightning head!!!

2.……………….But things you look at provoke things…….

1.Yes!!………..inwards or outwards

2.……………….Actually I think both, it’s a particular and peculiar thing………things here are conventionally used to signify political and psychological extremes, and all this is underwritten by many histories of feeling.


1.Listen to this…………” it fills the mind with grand ideas and turns the soul in on itself”

2.……………..I don’t care………we are on the second floor so nothing can wash us away…but what you say…things here are sort of in reverse, I mean…….the usual order of things are in reverse, not a religious order but it’s as if everything rebelled, a sort of counter attack against things, the everyday scheme of things went out of the window, everything gets inverted…perhaps its all the water round here……winter and summer fused together……..its like a gigantic ice house waiting to melt…….always at that point.

1...............rocket

230* NW


Its nighttime now………..we see fading glorious light.


Then: A woman and a man……… the man speaks first



Its not your road you know.

……It’s too far and not now, we can’t do that now.


Listen to those dogs

…….Don’t smoke so close to me and where did you get them from, I thought there wasn’t any on the island any more.


……….Look, your hands have changed colour……….look………….How?


………Please don’t ever tell me.


Its nothing, 200km of sleepers


………200km of sleepers, I like that sentence it sounds lovely.


After everything…you still manage to talk about those little things and then there is a little bit of light.


………Please don’t tell me


I still have some wishes


……….your blue eyes could be brown, full brown circles. So fine.


For you all this is really nothing…………….it doesn’t really matter……….you are wherever you want.


……….To have a perfect circle


What is that smell?


We have nowhere to go.


……..no


Directions


……No


There is no road.


………no


What is that noise?


The stairs?


…………..the sky.


Its cold.


…………..Listen to the dogs bark……..everything is changed…………..


LOUD NOISE.



Enter 5 or 7 year old….girl. So there are 3 people in the room now.


Dig, dig a hole…..go go………….I don’t like to feel this way.


………….you’re a crocodile.



Guess I need some education.


…………..can’t remember


In my arms your warm and smooth.


Wah wah wah……..tie together…tie together…hear ye hear ye....must have some coffee…….I’d die………baby.


………….I can’t remember

It’s plain to see……….no misery. Subtle. Now what I see in the long twilight…………on a hill so white…………..Your face glows, a golden you. I don’t think anybody knows what they do. For the tender things are upon us now, fragrant, evening air, I could leave this world quite without a care…… shadows swim.

I’ll buy for you a real fine hat, that’s for you and that’s where it at.


………….I could just sort of not be there, just come and go and jump in the lake…drip dry time…what I want.


Look outside the dog is turning red.

Spooky the way some people live.

I……….yes……….I mean, no. No I don’t understand! I don’t.


Setting:

Forest, open paths and small clearings near a pond-bog-small lake. Several houses, doorways, corridors, rooms and windows. Always wooden or concrete buildings. The colour brown is important, sky blue or ultramarine, white, black, orange/red and strong yellows.

20* NNW


The year;

Early 20th century or perhaps early 21st century



We hear dogs barking somewhere, the smell of cigarettes and the sound of feet on stairs.

Voices growing louder, a sort of flashlight, static buzzing sounds, then feet stamping. Its’ snowing outside.

……………..oh yes…………sorry…………..there you are.

They enter the room.

Can I keep this?

>Yes

Look out the window, listen, everything is so dark

>Look at those lights over there,…………………and there. It makes you feel like we are sat inside a Christmas tree and that if you look up glitter is falling from the sky.

I can’t understand that……look at this……..the whole place is lit up………………………..

I heard this:

………………………………………………Where are you? Where are you?



Its dark, lets go out and smoke. Step under those trees and listen with your eyes.


Then:


Cigarettes are not abstract, just sort of gestures or something, not abstract. They are certain moods or something. Images, sounds and a sort of chattiness, phonetic and occasionally formal and it makes for intermittent idiosyncratic punctuation. They are farcical, obscene, ludicrous, a slave of a spirit which a later age will perhaps no longer comprehend. It is similar to a shadow that lies like a dog at your feet. Perhaps there are greater things and fairer silvery tones in nature, but this is mine and known to me, a blood relation, and more indeed than that. It’s a flesh eater.

Twilight







>I had to

So it was you……how could you?…..of all the people ever to have said anything……..you.

>I had to. Do you know what they said they would do?

When did this start?………Please don’t tell me you did this all along!……………….it wasn’t you all along. You have been telling them all along?

>I had to.

You knew this all along?……………………………………..why?

>I had to.

We sat in the house space. The echo stairs had us running and running. The sirens discovered electricity, each many many times. Running…….running steps and stairs. It was a good home to many people, animals and ghosts.


All around was the rhythm of that sweet soft sound. “I will be true. Steal a compass/ drive north/ get lost and be quiet”. It came from his lips. “Look out for the wild dogs of thunderbolt and anyway they can’t lock me up I am eternally free” from her lips. Observe frequencies and balance, no harmony, dancing. 2 tears in a bucket and the fading lights are fading.



Well what about white, not just the whiteness of snow I mean white. What is it? Perhaps its impossible to describe it or even give it a form but if I don’t try all this will be for nothing, I mean really for naught. What is it that is so appalling and yet compelling? I mean really unspeakable and forceful in the way that your body reallocates.

White:

It enhances beauty
Pearls
Royalty
White elephants
Albinos
Flags
Humans and mastership
Gladness
White choker
White stone markers
Innocence of brides
Dignity of age
Honor
Cowardice
Justice
Milk white teeth
Spotlessness
Power
White forked flame
Holiest
Snow white
Great white bull
Sacred vesture
Alb
Passions
White light
White heat
White noise
White taste
White heart
Redemption
The holy one sited there white as wool
“Yet whatever is sweet, honorable and sublime in this hue lurks and strikes a panic to the soul. More than the redness of blood”.
The thought of whiteness
Polar nights
Ghostliness
Requiem
Eternal rest
White stillness of death-pallor
White sharks
Supernaturalism
Shroud
Terror
Fog
Apparition
White mountain tops
White deserts
The “white pale man”
White veil
White sea
The moon
Frost and air
Whiteness of being alone
The eternal frosted desolateness of inhuman solitudes
Christian deity
Things most appalling
Indefiniteness that shadows the heartless voids and immensities of the universe
The milk way
Not so much a colour but the visible absence of colour and yet the concrete of all colours.
Dumb dumbness, full of meaning in a wide landscape of snows
Snow
Principles of light
Blank
The impossibility of not seeing
белый
бедняки из белого населения южных штатов
белая ворона
белая горячка
Белая книга
белая лилия
белая рабыня
белая рыба
белое духовенство
белое каление
белое мясо
белое поле мишени
белые фигуры
белый галстук
Белый дом
белый как мрамор
белый круг мишени
Hiatus

Or perhaps: electric shock

I was spare….my teeth were good and do you know frozen to the spot every inch of me.

I hate it all….down…………….trodden….all those people drinking….swallowing words, just listen.

I don’t work anymore…I’ll never again.....no not here....can’t get used to it…all that human activity…pah!

3 steps only:

1. Who was it in the room? I fell on the bottom step and broke my teeth.

2. Tried to climb on to the roof from the 3rd step.

3. Climbed out of the door but it was the window.

So they visit you just to remind you or was it to tell you….and why a little girl. Anyway they said electric shock treatment would stop me drinking, shot in the head….see…….. So quietly. Not a rabbit but a habit…shot out.

She came to the room so silent, it was even sly and scary. They came wild.....that c a p I t a i n with his big boots and missing buttons and gold front teeth and smelling of vinegar. Wam bam.

So now I take my time and you take your time just take your time and now today the building is painted blue.

Or perhaps it was something like: uncontrollable unbearable super charged electricity.

I think it was early evening perhaps mid December or no, late march……….ah it doesn’t matter about that, but listen about the time in winter when it never really gets light, early evening, dark, cold, snow, ice, small sounds but very very still. At least remember its nothing like summer.

I was constantly shrinking away from the streetlights outside the window and had turned down the room light it was then that I screamed out loud, really loud. There was no answer, nothing in fact…..nothing could draw me away from that moment inside “it just rose up”. This was not audible but it was there it “just rose up”. The door in the wall opened towards me, my door, well that’s what I thought as well. It happened just like that, the light suddenly speeded up outside my window. Even the dogs seemed to be going faster or sounding faster, some even passed by my window. The sky was floating. She just blew in from the pitch dark of the corridor where all the lights had gone quiet. She tiptoed in and stood on one leg balancing herself on her other toe. She quivered. She put her hands over her eyes and let out a little shriek then looked at the glimmer or sparkle that came out of the light in the room. She leaned on the doorframe and everything seemed to flutter around her in a draught.

I shivered.

“Helloooo…..can’t you talk or something”

........hiss

“Who are you?”

“ I don’t know”

.........hissss

“Are you looking for me? are you sure you have got the right flat? I am on the 1st floor do you want me to
show you downstairs?”

“Hush hush please”

.............hiss

“What……can anybody else hear you?……….what?”

“Oh just be easy in your mind”………”you cold?”…..”should I shut the door?”

...............pop-hissss

“No, please, I mean yes……….just come in and close the door”

She had very pink cheeks but strong and delicate skin with lots of tiny scars. She touched the walls feeling the wallpaper and smiled, touched the rug on the floor and ran her hands all the way around the edge of the table.


“Don’t worry I know everybody in the building”

..............crackle-hiss-crackle


“ They are all home from work and play, I know the dogs, cats, all the wood in here and even the man nobody knows”

................sssssssss




“ Look, let me close the door”

“If you want, nobody minds……are you worried? Why?…..what is the matter?…your not the only person who knows how to shut a door you know. Anyway I have already shut it”

..........zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzst

“I am not sure………. you are very young?”

“ Then its ok then, don’t you think I don’t know you?…….stop shivering and be comfortable….do you know me so little?”

............sshhh


“You’re a child…………………”

“I’m only a child…..and stop being so proper…you don’t have to tell me this or that or what or how…….be calm in your head.”

...............crackle-hiss




Well…….then there was this, I ‘m not sure about the words it doesn’t matter.


“ We needn’t worry about that. I just wanted to say: my knowing you so well isn’t much protection to me, it only relieves you of the effort of keeping up pretences before me. And yet you’re paying me a compliment. Stop it I beg you, do stop it. Anyhow, I don’t know you everywhere and all the time, least of all in this darkness. It would be much better if you were to light up. No, perhaps not. At any rate I’ll keep it in mind that you have been threatening me.”

.....izz-crackle-pop


“What!!!!!……threatening you……never………Look I am pleased you have come at last and I say “at last” but its already rather late…why so late?……………but please no quarreling…….you could hurt me I know”

She was born on a friday and brought up on a farm so could still remember that light, light flash…..She saw that when she was about 4 or 5, about the age she is now, she just thought it was what was normal……I just saw it.


“Listen nobody could come closer to you than I am already………by nature I am close to you. You know that, so why all this seriousness. But if its only for fun I’ll go straight away”

................full electrical static hiss

“What……..are you telling me what to do? Its my room, its my wall you ran your hands over and I don’t know any of this”

“Do you know how I’ll be later on?”

..................electric hissss

“I don’t know anything”

“ So, you are now going out are you?”

...................static

“What can I do?…..how are you?……..and what is this?”

“I am more dubious about who I am than you are……………”………..hiss.


The lights stayed the same.

Or something like: The truth even if it never happened.


(Crackle-static-interference)…….or was it?…….well!..... daydreaming?….(static/interference)..……….does it matter really?……......anyway listen.
I DON’T KNOW, I told myself this but perhaps I didn’t hear it, I don’t know……(Static sound)…what is that noise?……..
”If nobody comes, then nobody comes”, and yet that isn’t true, well not all true……..(Interference-noise and static)…..
”I’d love to go”
“Why not?”
“Can you talk right now?”
“Hang on you sound really awful”
“I’m not going with a pack of nobodies”

So they go into the mountains, of course, where else? So they go with a pack of nobodies.

“That’s a good thing”…….(static-interference)
“No way, I don’t like mountains anymore, lets go somewhere flat or back inside”
“But nobody has done me any harm”
“But nobody will help me”
“A pack of nobodies, look how they jostle with their elbows……………..and their arms linked together (static electrical sound)……their numberless feet tread so close together and look, no listen to the wind blowing through them and the gaps between their company”

(Stastic-interference-noise)…..then came this:

“ For we are like tree trunks in the snow. In appearance they lie sleekly and a little push should be enough to set them rolling. No, it can’t be done, for they are firmly wedded to the ground. But see, even that is only appearance.”

Or perhaps something like: they write

Crazy things I hear in my ear, innuendo and space….. so listen good. Ok its clear if you add it up and put it together = High voltage electricity. 33 tables they write and I heard “silver twist”. There are doors, walls and cruel sinister games, liberty and be invisible. Down hearted they write……immortal souls. They write be realistic. Follow the rain on a ledge. Buzzy bee they write but the sound was electricity or was it the ice? Jump and sing, play, fever, swim and jump they write.


Or something like: Demonic indistinctions.

These were created on a Friday evening at dusk, you remember? It was impossible for them to receive bodies because the Sabbath had already begun. So they had a conflict of wanting “once more’ what they had lived and yet wanting the ecstasy of the un-lived, what had never happened yet. Ask Zoya she will tell you and she also has the softest voice.

Something like this: ice light.

Anyway your guts are like mine and we all get together in sleep where are mouths are trapped in static and you said, “ this thing is like a rickety bridge of impossible crossing”. Together it is like small steps against inertia and the echo of a dead end.



Catch the rites of spring and bonfires, faulty electrics or something like exploding streetlights. Oh and incase you forget the birds are about to bust their guts with singing, look into the air.




Or perhaps something like: light ice

Something about Zoya with a halo and the buzz of insects like magnetic static electricity. It is sedative and hypnotic when sorrow fires her arrows at you in the glittering blackness.

Способность преобразовать объекты через воображение