Old Books

My dreams were, as always, full of water. Rivers, lakes and oceans, often difficult to discern one from the other. Water is what remains. I read an article in a weekly magazine about water and its properties - the writer, a scientist, was fascinated, but I felt there was even more to water than that but I could not and would not say what. Maybe he had said it all and I just did not understand.
"Today is not a good day to visit, I have lots of work, F. is supposed to come to the kindergarten dressed up as a fairy tomorrow, I am baking cake for Sunday's celebration of J.'s third birthday and I am behind with all my work..." M. spoke these words on the phone to her friend from Moravia, whose husband works on a building site in Prague and she and their little baby travel with him, living in appartments with labourers and cooking food for them. Given the circumstances M.'s friend would not take even this sophisticated form of "NO" for an answer and asked what bus she should take that would bring her to our place. Since I was going to a bank to the hellish Andel junction to shift some money from one account of mine to another account of mine (the state actually giving me some money for doing this - I hope I will never have to understand), I was asked to meet them there and take them to our apartment.
Nothing remarkable happened before or after that, not even in the second-hand bookshop I went to when I was waiting for the friend. Only recently I diagnosed myself as being a collector of books, which was something of a disappointment, because since some time ago I do not consider collecting a worthwile activity. I found many books and bought most of them (including one with many photographs of Jaroslav Hašek), thinking about my university professor, who often spoke about his three libraries (he emigrated twice), which were largely composed of the same titles. It was then that I discovered the horrid beauty of collecting - I weighed every book I chose in my hand and I realised that while I was getting the book I was already setting up a date in the future when I will have to part with it. Nothing extraordinary, but for the first time there was more to buying old books than the joy of finding them (a lot like picking mushrooms, including the somewhat unpleasant smell) and the physical weakness that follows when the prices are added up. I felt that in buying the books I was losing a lot more than the money and I finally relaxed.
On Monday the Monday Club almost fell apart only to become reborn again in a new and even lousier environment. It is a return to jukeboxes and (this time even) darts. The place is cold and dark, and the waiter is incredibly polite (this is actually true). When we walked out, we stood still for a moment, enjoyng the brand new vista - it was dark, snowy, a busy road, big but old apartment blocks, a silhouette of a factory chimney behind a tree. We parted. The prior conversation involved sports and women, with literature and music mentioned only marginally. This or the other was the original plan but no one really cared to remember. "I am looking forward to seeing P. sail into this place with his huge hat," A. said. It is a place of ugliness and visions and the beer actually tastes good. It is called U Myslivce.
The friend and her daughter are leaving, the baby is crying. The mother says: "You go to the cinema a lot - have you seen..." I wish I did go to the cinema a lot more. I hope the baby girl does not bite me like she just did her mum.

Heart winter

I lay in the bed. I´m sure that earth beneath is getting rounder by the minute. Its late and I think I´m not sleeping. I know that soon the bed starts to move. It starts to slide on the round and cold ground. And in blink it slips from the edge of the earth and falls to the dark void. In dreams there is no gravity. I´m gone. Trains, cars, aeroplanes, busses, taxi´s... Being one of the poorest persons I know I sure do pollute a lot. So I dressed up as gorilla that has a huge boner(erected rubber penis). And to get me going I roll in the snow in front of the bar. I have no underwear so its really cold. Then I run screaming to inside and start to grab women from behind and raise them into air. Its hard to see through the gorilla mask. Soon I notice the woman the gorilla is harassing(sitting on the lap with bare ass and shouting dirty words) is not a woman at all but actually young man. He is some hippie style young musician who is in stiff shock. I notice that the feeling in bar is not so hilarious or crazy as it could be. There is a hand full of people attended and they are actually little bit afraid. Gorilla is swearing in strange low voice and shaking its lonely boner. Outside in the night snow flows tenderly. I look out of the window again and I see bright snowy landscapes rolling by. Trees are covered with heavy snow and sun is high for short time. This view perfectly reflects my feelings. Out there is a huge unknown forest, white and still. And I´m flying through it in 200 km/h speed. We are near the entrance of the ancient temple area. By the gate there is a black sailor who collects the entering fees. I´m walking there with my friend. There is a get feeling that he will not pay the fee. And as we roll in he moves to the far side of the gateway. In the moment I put my coins in to the sailors jar he steps in. Like a dog out of leash. I smile and say –you have to give the Caesar that what belongs to Caesar. -A kick in the ass, he answers. -First your money then kick in the ass, I add. On top of the hill we can now see a small jade temple. In the main railway station two guys offer flyers to by passers. Big letters say SALVATION IS COMING. As I walk by them I hear that they speak something about 1990´s model BMW. I stand on the ocean. On frozen openness. It´s my favourite place. By the masters house old drunks kiss and hug each other.