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.01 the eggs .02 the toothbrush .03 apparatus
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APPARATUS [read in romanian]
I brought it into the house the other day.
It seems crazy.
It won’t leave me alone.
It clicks all the time.
Yesterday I kicked it away under the bed.
Now I hear it buzzing in the night like mad. Nothing can stop it.
I throw it into the toilet bowl. I flush the water and calm down. I don’t know why but this noise soothes me.
It’s like washing away all that seems dirty and disgusting.
In fact it’s not like that at all.
All that comes out of the side opposite to my mouth is by no means dirtier than what goes out fro it.
The stupid thing comes at the surface as if nothing happened. Nothing drives me crazy more than its determination not to disappear.
The determination of sticking to life as if it were the only important thing.
This precarious, stupid existence is all that keeps us going.
This is what comes of falling in love like a fool with something that won’t leave you alone.
Looks like an ogre set to devour my identity.
To turn me into a witness of reality.
Now I’ve decided to set it on fire. Maybe this will kill it.
I turn the stove on. What a devilish invention. A killing machine that we see as something our survival depends on.
Sometimes I’m frightened by our stupidity and the impossibility to see beyond what we call reality.
I’d better put it in the oven. It can’t get away from there.
Just that it’s no longer under the bed. I look everywhere, the fridge included.
Why the hell would I have put it there?
Eventually I find it on the terrace. I’m so mad I crush it under my feet and hit it with a broomstick. I catch it and throw it into the oven.
The perfect murder. There is nothing left. No trace and nobody can pass judge me.
I’ll be the perfect murderer. I hold the oven door as fast as I can.
Ready.
My nightmare is over. I can hear it crack and sizzle.
I open the oven.
There is nothing left except a little piece of metal from the strap.
I won. At last I can sleep, I can do whatever I want and it will no longer terrify me.
The animal was put to death.
For the first time I see a winner in the mirror.
I seemed to be hidden somewhere and now I an out in the open.
Whenever I looked at myself, it was always there. Putting me in the shadow and hiding my identity.
Now I can identify myself. I can be proud of myself.
I fall asleep. I wake up.
On and off until morning, when I decide that I cannot be without it.
Off I go to buy a new camera.
And a new oven.
The old one stinks.
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© razvan ion
