I have never liked filling the forms for the tax return. I remember the first time, when it was new and exciting, so many years ago. I also remember that feeling being substituted by an incredible boredom and the notion that I would never manage to do it by myself.
That is the exact feeling that I'm having right now.
I look at the stack of papers that I have in front of me and the delicious idea of suicide briefly crosses my mind.
"Would you like some Doritos and a glass of wine, dear?", my wife knows me better than myself. In any other occasion I would have said yes without even letting her finish the sentence.
"Yes. No. Whatever. Later. I love you.", I say instead, and immediatly feel like an idiot.
"O.K. Love you too.", she is the best woman in the world.
I look out of the window, where the sun is shining, kids are playing and couples are holding hands and saying nonsenses to each other. Except this is Belgium and the sky is concrete grey. And except for the fact that from my window I only see a big, dirty, ugly building.
The mind is an awesome thing.
There is a box where I have to write my income from last year. I consider throwing some random numbers at it, but instead I shout over my shoulder.
"This is torture! Do you know where my pay sheets are?!"
"Under the blue folder to your right!", the voice of Layla is like music to my ears, so I have to repeat the question.
"Where?!"
"Blue folder! To your right!"
"Thanks, love!"
There is a blue folder to my right, and the papers are underneath it.
I have to add all the numbers together, though, and my basic math skills have abandoned me. Memories of exams pass through my mind. I can feel the fear in my lips again.
Thank god for calculators, the inventor should have been made World Hero or something.
I write the numbers and the box accepts its defeat.
The kitchen is paradise right now. I take a mouthful of Doritos and wash them down with some wine. I kiss my wife and I suggest watching a movie. To her, I am transparent. She knows what I have in mind. She takes me by the hand and leads me to the bedroom.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Happy vegetables
When he arrived to the supermarket, Uncle George went directly to the cold department, for he knew himself as a very efficient and straightforward person and valued himself for owning these noble characteristics. It was a Friday evening, and Uncle George was in charge of buying something that would serve at the main course of the dinner party. In the cold department all the meat and frozen food were stored. But for his bitter surprise, it was very cold in the cold department. He hadn’t felt this cold in years. He felt so cold that it activated the fight or flight response in his brain. Fight or flight or freeze. From these options, flight was clearly the right response. So he opened the freezer that was next to him, took out the first thing that his hand could grab and left the cold department.
It was only at the cashier where he noticed what he actually bought. He noticed it at exactly the same moment when the lady in white with tattooed eyebrows asked him:
‘Would you like anything else, Sir?’
It was a straightforward question. Firm but just. If he wanted something else, this was the moment to say so.
Uncle George looked in the basket in front of him. What he saw was an Iglo bag of carrots and peas laying in it. The carrots and the peas were mixed. The mixture was called ’Happy Vegetables.’
Uncle George looked back at the lady and her tattooed eyebrows.
‘No,’ he said resolutely.
There was an explanation on the bag that clarified why the product was called Happy Vegetables. Uncle George noticed this when he was already sitting in his car, observing his pray, trying to figure out what could be done out of it for dinner. The mixture was called happy vegetables, because Beta Carotin helped the brain produce opiate and opiate made people feel happy. On the bag, Uncle Iglo explained that if children ate happy vegetables every day, a kind penguin would take them to Happy Vegetable Country. So, all in all, it was clearly a good buy.
However, Uncle George was not sure if Uncle Iglo’s reasoning would convince his wife too that he made the right choice. But going back to the supermarket was not an option. The lady at the cashier already asked him if he wanted something else and he said no. Going back would have been admitting publicly that he was a weak character. Someone, who didn’t know what he wanted.
So Uncle George started the engine, and drove home listening to evergreens in the radio, with the bag of Happy Vegetables on the passenger seat.
Aunt Alexandra was already waiting for him in the kitchen. She had just finished preparing the potato salad. Uncle George stood behind her, covered her eyes with his right palm, and put the bag of Happy Vegetables on the table in front of her. Aunt Alexandra got slightly aroused by this sudden blindfolding, and pushed her buttocks close to her husband crotch. Uncle George stepped one step backwards automatically, which made it clear that he had no erotic intentions. This movement left both of them standing in an unnatural posture. It also left Aunt Alexandra somewhat irritated.
’I got something very special for tonight,’ Uncle George said.
’What is it?’ Aunt Alexandra asked. She forced herself to smile despite her irritation. She smiled because she knew that it was smiling that good natured people did when they were offered a gift, even when they were slightly irritated. Aunt Alexandra thought of herself as a very good natured person.
’Something special for tonight’s dinner.’ Uncle George lowered his hand.
Aunt Alexandra looked at the vegetables and didn’t say anything. She didn’t say anything because her mind was blank. This often happened to her when she was about to say something particularly offensive. It was a defence mechanism of her brain that kept her marriage alive in the last ten years. It was a common defence mechanism among the brains of people who thought of themselves as good natured persons. Over the time it made these people embittered, but Aunt Alexandra had another defence mechanism to cover her embitterment. Aunt Alexandra’s brain was a perfect matrix of hundreds of defence mechanisms.
’They are happy vegetables’. Uncle George whispered.
Aunt Alexandra nodded.
’We can make a ratatouille out of them.’ Uncle George said.
‘A ratatouille.’ Aunt Alexandra repeated. Repetition was another defence mechanism that helped her win time when her reptilian brain was urging her to bite the person nearby.
’A happy ratatouille.’ Uncle George said.
’A happy ratatouille.’ Aunt Alexandra repeated.
It was only at the cashier where he noticed what he actually bought. He noticed it at exactly the same moment when the lady in white with tattooed eyebrows asked him:
‘Would you like anything else, Sir?’
It was a straightforward question. Firm but just. If he wanted something else, this was the moment to say so.
Uncle George looked in the basket in front of him. What he saw was an Iglo bag of carrots and peas laying in it. The carrots and the peas were mixed. The mixture was called ’Happy Vegetables.’
Uncle George looked back at the lady and her tattooed eyebrows.
‘No,’ he said resolutely.
There was an explanation on the bag that clarified why the product was called Happy Vegetables. Uncle George noticed this when he was already sitting in his car, observing his pray, trying to figure out what could be done out of it for dinner. The mixture was called happy vegetables, because Beta Carotin helped the brain produce opiate and opiate made people feel happy. On the bag, Uncle Iglo explained that if children ate happy vegetables every day, a kind penguin would take them to Happy Vegetable Country. So, all in all, it was clearly a good buy.
However, Uncle George was not sure if Uncle Iglo’s reasoning would convince his wife too that he made the right choice. But going back to the supermarket was not an option. The lady at the cashier already asked him if he wanted something else and he said no. Going back would have been admitting publicly that he was a weak character. Someone, who didn’t know what he wanted.
So Uncle George started the engine, and drove home listening to evergreens in the radio, with the bag of Happy Vegetables on the passenger seat.
Aunt Alexandra was already waiting for him in the kitchen. She had just finished preparing the potato salad. Uncle George stood behind her, covered her eyes with his right palm, and put the bag of Happy Vegetables on the table in front of her. Aunt Alexandra got slightly aroused by this sudden blindfolding, and pushed her buttocks close to her husband crotch. Uncle George stepped one step backwards automatically, which made it clear that he had no erotic intentions. This movement left both of them standing in an unnatural posture. It also left Aunt Alexandra somewhat irritated.
’I got something very special for tonight,’ Uncle George said.
’What is it?’ Aunt Alexandra asked. She forced herself to smile despite her irritation. She smiled because she knew that it was smiling that good natured people did when they were offered a gift, even when they were slightly irritated. Aunt Alexandra thought of herself as a very good natured person.
’Something special for tonight’s dinner.’ Uncle George lowered his hand.
Aunt Alexandra looked at the vegetables and didn’t say anything. She didn’t say anything because her mind was blank. This often happened to her when she was about to say something particularly offensive. It was a defence mechanism of her brain that kept her marriage alive in the last ten years. It was a common defence mechanism among the brains of people who thought of themselves as good natured persons. Over the time it made these people embittered, but Aunt Alexandra had another defence mechanism to cover her embitterment. Aunt Alexandra’s brain was a perfect matrix of hundreds of defence mechanisms.
’They are happy vegetables’. Uncle George whispered.
Aunt Alexandra nodded.
’We can make a ratatouille out of them.’ Uncle George said.
‘A ratatouille.’ Aunt Alexandra repeated. Repetition was another defence mechanism that helped her win time when her reptilian brain was urging her to bite the person nearby.
’A happy ratatouille.’ Uncle George said.
’A happy ratatouille.’ Aunt Alexandra repeated.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
NA ZDROWIE !
NA ZDROWIE !
Love each other
as you love your liver.
So I did ,
and drank the vodka
in a single shot.
Cul sec.
Love each other
as you love your liver.
So I did ,
and drank the vodka
in a single shot.
Cul sec.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
The comedian, who was secretly fat
Andrej, the secretly fat comedian was standing at the train station with his wife, Veronika. They were waiting for the train that was going to take Veronika to the city where her sister gave birth recently.
Not even Veronika knew that Andrej was fat. Andrej kept his weight carefully in secret since 2008 when he got fat as a result of a period of binge eating, which was the result of a period of intense performance anxieties. The spouses didn’t see each other naked since their son was born seven years ago.
Veronika didn’t suspect that her husband was fat, but she knew that Andrej was keeping something in secret from her. She thought that her husband had a lover, the liberated, communist wife of the local orchestra’s blind conductor. Veronika had an old-fashioned view on men, which allowed her to accept the suspected adultery. According to this view men were like infantile porks, who couldn’t help themselves when it came to food or genitals. However, Veronika didn’t wish to be confronted with the truth, because that would have put her in the unpleasant position where one has to take a position, and Veronika didn’t like to take positions, in fear of regretting them later.
‘You can go home now,’ Veronika said. ‘I will get on the train.’
She kissed Andrej’s soft, big, cold face, first on the left cheek and then on the right. Then Andrej kissed her soft, cold cheeks back. All their cheeks were kissed now.
'Don’t forget to clean his nose in the evening.' – Veronika said.
She meant the nose of their son, Levin.
'I will not forget to clean his nose in the evening.' Andrej said seriously.
In his private life he was always serious. After fifteen years of being a comedian, he was truly sick of joking. When a friend told a joke at the dinner table, he wanted to cry. He compared his situation to the gynaecologist’s who, after a long day at work, has to look at his wife’s vagina.
'It’s important for hygiene.' Veronika said. 'The nose needs to be clean.'
'I agree.' – Andrej said and he meant it.
'Bye now!'
Veronika climbed the stairs of the train, but then she heard her husband shouting after her, so she turned back.
This was what Andrej shouted after her:
‘Wait!’
Veronika waited.
Andrej stepped closer and continued shouting: ‘I forgot to tell you something!’
‘You don’t need to shout Andrej. I hear you well.’
‘I have to tell you something Veronika.’ Andrej said. He was sweating. Not only he was sweating: he was breathing heavily too.
‘So tell it!’
‘Veronika,’ Andrej said, ‘I’m fat.’
And at the moment he said it, he regretted it. He never told his dirty secret to anyone, hoping that eventually he would lose weight and leave his fatness - as a bad dream - behind. But now he said it and it felt that the spoken words made his fatness real, irreversible; that they validated and enforced a fat existence from now on, forever. How he wished he could go back in time.
Veronika felt relieved. She was worried for a second that Andrej would reveal his affair with the communist, and she would need to take a position.
‘You’re joking,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ Andrej said and nodded vigorously. ‘I was joking.’
Veronika never heard her husband making a joke before. She was never interested in humour or comedy so she never went to see Andrej’s show in the theatre.
‘Ha Ha,’ Veronika said. As far as she knew, this was the appropriate thing to say when someone made a joke.
‘Ha Ha,’ said Andrej too.
Veronika tapped her thigh uncertainly. This was what people did in movies when they laughed.
‘Ha Ha.’ she said again. For a second, she thought about adding: Hilarious!. Then she decided not to. She only said: ‘Bye now!’, and stepped in the darkness of the carriage.
Andrej sighed deeply. He adjusted his corsette and waved goodbye.
Not even Veronika knew that Andrej was fat. Andrej kept his weight carefully in secret since 2008 when he got fat as a result of a period of binge eating, which was the result of a period of intense performance anxieties. The spouses didn’t see each other naked since their son was born seven years ago.
Veronika didn’t suspect that her husband was fat, but she knew that Andrej was keeping something in secret from her. She thought that her husband had a lover, the liberated, communist wife of the local orchestra’s blind conductor. Veronika had an old-fashioned view on men, which allowed her to accept the suspected adultery. According to this view men were like infantile porks, who couldn’t help themselves when it came to food or genitals. However, Veronika didn’t wish to be confronted with the truth, because that would have put her in the unpleasant position where one has to take a position, and Veronika didn’t like to take positions, in fear of regretting them later.
‘You can go home now,’ Veronika said. ‘I will get on the train.’
She kissed Andrej’s soft, big, cold face, first on the left cheek and then on the right. Then Andrej kissed her soft, cold cheeks back. All their cheeks were kissed now.
'Don’t forget to clean his nose in the evening.' – Veronika said.
She meant the nose of their son, Levin.
'I will not forget to clean his nose in the evening.' Andrej said seriously.
In his private life he was always serious. After fifteen years of being a comedian, he was truly sick of joking. When a friend told a joke at the dinner table, he wanted to cry. He compared his situation to the gynaecologist’s who, after a long day at work, has to look at his wife’s vagina.
'It’s important for hygiene.' Veronika said. 'The nose needs to be clean.'
'I agree.' – Andrej said and he meant it.
'Bye now!'
Veronika climbed the stairs of the train, but then she heard her husband shouting after her, so she turned back.
This was what Andrej shouted after her:
‘Wait!’
Veronika waited.
Andrej stepped closer and continued shouting: ‘I forgot to tell you something!’
‘You don’t need to shout Andrej. I hear you well.’
‘I have to tell you something Veronika.’ Andrej said. He was sweating. Not only he was sweating: he was breathing heavily too.
‘So tell it!’
‘Veronika,’ Andrej said, ‘I’m fat.’
And at the moment he said it, he regretted it. He never told his dirty secret to anyone, hoping that eventually he would lose weight and leave his fatness - as a bad dream - behind. But now he said it and it felt that the spoken words made his fatness real, irreversible; that they validated and enforced a fat existence from now on, forever. How he wished he could go back in time.
Veronika felt relieved. She was worried for a second that Andrej would reveal his affair with the communist, and she would need to take a position.
‘You’re joking,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ Andrej said and nodded vigorously. ‘I was joking.’
Veronika never heard her husband making a joke before. She was never interested in humour or comedy so she never went to see Andrej’s show in the theatre.
‘Ha Ha,’ Veronika said. As far as she knew, this was the appropriate thing to say when someone made a joke.
‘Ha Ha,’ said Andrej too.
Veronika tapped her thigh uncertainly. This was what people did in movies when they laughed.
‘Ha Ha.’ she said again. For a second, she thought about adding: Hilarious!. Then she decided not to. She only said: ‘Bye now!’, and stepped in the darkness of the carriage.
Andrej sighed deeply. He adjusted his corsette and waved goodbye.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
