I had the tormenting and freaking
awareness of this incessant trip under the ground. Someone was running after me all the time trying to scare me with his
warm, eternal song, inside the depths of the tunnels. I wanted to force myself to stay awake and
search for the security of a loud babbling voice, a voice that would be able by
itself, like a strong spear, to keep away from me all my hunters and much more,
my own desire to surrender myself to them.
That’s why I
have always been afraid of the sound of subway trains and at the same time I have
been so much attracted by their underground moaning that I am trembling with anticipation
every time a train is approaching the boarding platform. The doors which close
and open like the petals of a carnivore plant, waiting for their victims , the
soft humming noises of people walking and
running, the feeling of certainty that the earth surface is a floating island above my
head, the faces of the engine drivers who are changing shifts…Faces without any
expression, with a gaze of superiority as if they have just returned from a
palace ball on a royal ship..And those huge window panes that are like
transparent mirrors of my multiple idols…But yes I am certain. The net of the big sleep, of the
eternal lethargy, is becoming larger and larger behind my feet and if it
manages to grab me, it will keep me wandering in its tunnels for ever.. A
possibility, that I haven’t decided yet
if it’s attractive or repulsive. What if I decided to make the tunnels net, the
junctions of its webs, be my real home? I should search carefully
for its most secret corners
and learn how the webs are construced. Then I would be able to construct my own webs. What a strange thing it would be
to proceed without knowing anything but having the eternal
knowledge of all the worlds inside my chest. This kind of knowledge had led me safe and sound
in front of the door I had found underground. That day I had come across the
spot of the black dust.
I am still in the network. I have
been bought by thousands of people and I have bought thousands of them too. I cannot remember their faces at all and I am sure that no one remembers
mine. The sound of the huge machine which operated like a strap of living exhibits,
has faded into a distant past. After all
it was not a special sound, just a sound that I can forget very easily even
if it tormented my ears for long. As they all used to say, I was a rather indifferent
exhibit, too much ordinary for most of them, slightly necessary for some
others, completely indifferent to others. But I can also say, after all this
time, that everyone was indifferent to me. Yes, there were some human exhibits who
attracted my attention for some seconds but that was all. Now I can buy and
sell anyone I want. I don’t even have to enter the auction room. I have become a specialist. However, the
most exciting thing is that I can be sold to anyone who wants to buy me,
without having to make any bargain.You know, the truth is that I am a
secret tunnel. If you approach me you will listen to my underground voices and
the creaking wood of my columns.
image: Andreas Feininger
Wonderful Regina. I Love It !
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