emma got booked for three fashion shows in milano. n that s really big n she hates fashion shows n modeling n runways but since i talked her into doing this well ofc i m here to see her. it s a bit annoying with all these ppl. n i m all alone n i feel like curling up n looking for a corner with some beautiful floor to look at. however i just take up three chairs. n then my god these annoying ppl arriving all the time. i dont like them in the least. then there is also kate moss. she s looking horrible. she got booked for one show only n she s acting as if she s the queen of the world making so much noise n kicking around n screaming n laughing. she is interested in me for some reason. that isnt good. she s sitting three seats away from me n she keeps screaming at me n waving, i pretend i cant see her. but then she s leaning over n pushing n telling me we r so much alike n she s booked two spare chairs for her legs too n wow. why wont she just die. she s a disgrace. i m relieved when we just get on the car to drive off with em. but no, kate moss is there again. she s after me n she s pushing me n poking me n hugging me. screaming in my ear n trying to climb into the car. she is impossible to shake off. what a horrible idea these fashion shows. when we get to the hotel she s there again coming into the room with us. no no no. that s all wrong. she s everywhere i am that ugly embarassing bitch.

some people like my handwriting. i like the white dust that comes from writing with chalk. it can give me allergic sneezing sometimes. and it seems to stick on ur skin forever, the chalk. u can taste it. it s not too dark yet but it s dark enough for me to see. i spell on my little blackboard.
tit sucking ... 100 stars
tea bagging ... 100 stars
n some more n then i place it outside my door. i stand by the door and let the wind blow through me. it s chilly. i dont know how ppl get here because there's no roads, there is nothing but grass and sky of dark dark blue. the smell is of foam bath, it smells like my eyes do. i dont know why i feel like crying but i am never happy and i am never unhappy. my house is only one room big and one window big. sometimes i shape shift slightly cos i m everything. i have a chair. and a bed. and a table. the bed is high. and a bathtub. a bucket. and a trunk. my eyes r always tired and open. i sit in the water in the dark. i cant see u coming but u r here n i want u to be here because of your hands and your voice and because it s u. my back is very sore and u r rubbing it for me. or perhaps u r washing it for me. u dont think i m sane n u wanna know why i charge ppl no money and how will i live this way. n what am i thinking with the board outdoors, i cant get fucked for stars, it s not good for me to get paid in stars for what use do i have for stars. then i have to show u simply. i run to my trunk n when i pull it open u can see too. it s thousands of little stars. i hold a bunch in my hands and put them in urs so u can look closer. it s real tiny stars. i show u on the wall behind us and on the ceiling, there it s full of stars glowing. so i will never need to light a lamp in here for all my life.


[sometimes anonymity is required. use of initials.]

my friend P is the lucky winner of the lottery. n she has so much money to waste now, she s booked a big trip to exotic strange islands for us. on a tiny special plane. first we go to corfu ofc. it s EE, J who is EE's friend, Amanda-me, J with P ofc, M1 n M2, G, D.
E is not there because u must understand she met a guy from Canada on myspace n flew over for the weekend to meet him in flesh n blood.
in corfu it s really nice n relaxing, nthg much is happening but it s cool anyway. some weird things do catch my attention such as P rolling on the floor now n then on strange occasions. but i keep trying to pick her up. anyhow she s happy doing it so.. n we r swimming n walking n whatever awesome things it is that make ur holidays just perfect like when u were only a child.
but when the plane to the exotic little island of unknown name arrives EE n her friend J bottle out. they dont want on the plane so we r forced to leave them behind. we can always pick them up on our return.
as we approach the island i come face to face with horror. if there is one thing that creeps me out entirely it is big slow fish in unclear water. this is the very sight of the beach. the fish r prehistoric i can tell n as we r close to landing i see the sand moving under the big waves n there is a mass of enormous octopuses n their long tentacles move n i feel like screaming. i dont even wanna near the sea anymore. my stomach twists n i get cold feet.
at last we r landing. we got only two rooms n P is rolling on the floor again n laughing. oh no no P u cant do that. lets lift her up. J is surprisingly serious n just normal. well we get dealt the rooms n there s like 4 beds in each. i am with M2 n G n D. all i can do is sit on my bed n stare at the ceiling. M1 is only drawing cats all day on his enormous notebook. D has gone crazy n is doing nthg but chasing G around, hitting on him, trying to do him just on account of his herritage! i m in shock i try to talk her out of this but she wont listen. when G complains to me i know nthg to say. i like this ceiling. it s pretty awesome.
in the other room M1 is drinking alcohol out of a bucket that seems never to go empty n then he is vomiting here n there. but he keeps drinking.
the ppl they all move around we walk into the forest or look at the beach but nthg changes. there is no shift in the situation. i can do nthg n talk to nobody. M1 drinkin n vomiting, M2 drawing, D after G, n P lying on the floor to talk to us.
the happiness i feel when P and J ask me to change bed with M1 who gets shipped to the lunatic room instead is impossible to be described. i am so happy. the holiday is not that bad anymore, i block everythg else out of my head since i can finally have conversations. phew.
on our way back, EE n J with us now, we r on the train and it is so awesome cos P is lying on the floor between our feet and she is gifting us the most colorful tees i ve ever seen in my life so we can wear them all three n look like sisters.

in a world there r no names any longer. they have been never there or have been long forgotten or perhaps they have been evicted or stoned to death. it seems as if they have never been there. n u call people whatever u want. u can call them by a word or u can call them by a sentence. or u can poke them or pull their sleeves gently. i seem to think that having no name is not such a horrible thing. names make us anything but exceptional. now that there is no names anymore u can tell ppl apart by other things. like their voices or the way they sit. n i can call u girl with the long hair or u with the hooligan walk, or boy full of freckles or boy with the laughing voice, or girl that moans a lot or little bird or maybe boy with the loud voice that is happy. or maybe i will just touch u. it seems like the perfect way of communication. n i can no longer remember ur name or the fact that u ever had a name. n if u want to sit next to me u can tell me what u would call me or what u call urself.


vaguely. the mother of johannes meets us on the road. she s worried n panicked about johannes. who is still in school. she s very upset she can not get in touch with him. we have to go and check on him. i think johannes is maybe 10. or he is 12. emma is young too n she s even wearing a dress n i am too. when the bell rings we mingle secretly with the crowd n try to find johannes. n there he is in the backyard crawling on the floor of the school backyard. when we gesture he doesnt respond. finally we make it to him n he takes us to his cauldron. if i m not mistaken he is boiling a fat kid's ass in it until the fat kid runs off. next he is lecturing a 7 year old girl on not wearing such slutty clothes. n she s not even wearing any slutty clothes. at night i go with other friend n emma to watch johannes in his school play. his mother is there too n she seems a little less worried. i think she s thankful we tried to talk sense into him. the success of it is questionable. we take a seat in the last bench n then comes carrie bradshaw, samantha jones, charlotte york and miranda hobbes. ha they sit down on the bench n i ask carrie n they got a special invite from johannes himself. we r 3 ppl plus 4 n we dont fit. eh then carrie has to go sit in the bench right in front so everyone s pleased n the play begins.


against all my advice mats wants to be in the boxing fight. there s nthg i can do to talk him out of this madness. he s fighting against this huge man n he wont even take off his glasses. ah ah. it s nervwrecking. how can he not see what s coming next. we sit there n watch. it s the most horrible 3 minutes i can recall. mats gets a punch in the middle of his face. i think i m his coach so i must rush n see what the fuck s happening. there s blood all over his face n his specs r broken n he s got huge splinters in his eyes. but he tells me. he tells me he s really happy. for now he has become a tim burton figure at last.

i m lost in these fields. it s yellow as far as i can see. nothing but wheat. n really tall. the sun is burning my skin. dont know if i m feeling good or bad.i m heading somewhere but i dont know where. just keep going in order to get to see anythg but yellow fields. n the sky. i am barefoot n my feet r sore. n then i see someone sitting among the grass n the wheat. i can see his back. n his blond head. i touch mats' shoulder n when he turns out he is really sad. in fact he is so sad that his eyes have fallen out. n he cant see no more. i dont know what to say to him about it. i really dont know.

in my childhood room i give mats my bed n climb up to emma's bed. then during the night the bed collapses on top of him n he s crushed n dies.

the world in the cabins is blue. i dont know where they are located to be honest, but the sky is ice blue especially towards dusk it is. n the blue n the black intertwine leaving only the smell of snow n burned wood n blue poison reminiscent of some flower i can not trace. when u stand still outside the entrance to the main building of this conjoint logs creation, the ceiling barely high enough for u to stand up straight n stretch ur arms u can see some thick snow n then around the log community none. no snow at all. there s mountains n hills but there s also wide openings. most of the trees r still covered in snow. the reason i m here is to have a look at liam's recently inherited prperty, the cabins. n there s more ppl here for the very same purpose. n even luca iemi is here. the clothing doesnt make sense, since liam is in leathers n furs n luca iemi is only in his jeans n a shirt. i cant see what i m wearing because all i can see is the silence of the landscape n now it only smells of sthg more beautiful n more ominous. i m not sure it s dusk for it could be dawn or even the middle of the day. my sense of time sequence is evaporating.
when we walk into the main building. the old man in his long thin beard advices liam to sell. he tells us a story. of how everybody living in the house came to a tragic end. of how he had spent a night there during war. which war could it have been. n i can see the ppl who used to live there almost. the wall of the small wooden cabin we r in used to shift n u could see straight into the other cabins room n the spectacle was horrid. i dont know why nobody else can see the wall thinning. but i can. first it s a mess of long red hair n then a mess long blond hair. these creatures, i dont know if they can move. they r sitting upon a divan of black muslin n black lace. they seem to be floating in water yet there s none n no sign of anything soaked. the room is very dark n blue like the sky n like i would imagine the pit of a lake to be. drapes r hanging from the wall. the womens hands move slowly. n their legs, their skinny long limbs r capable of standing n when they do they stop floating n r really still. the blond woman looks like someone i know. it makes me really uneasy n i wish for the old man to stop. the strange objects in the room nobody else can see remain unidentifiable. the woman in their slow slightly crippled march seem to confidently approach. i believe them to be smiling n they do no longer seem that bad. in a haze i can hear the old man's voice n his refusal to explain further.
but this idiot liam doesnt want us to leave. i m trying my best to convince him to get the fuck moving. but he wont listen. he insists we all spend the night there. ppl r getting to work in order to make the small n strange wooden building labyrinth viable. in my bag i seem to be having some tons of 12 rolls, that i start shooting. because every where i turn i see a picture ready to be taken. n they r all so good. luca iemi is accompanying me on on my task.
when he finds out about the nearby village n the old school building/museum he really wants to go. i dont. liam is like a giant n i wanna stay around him. but luca iemi convinces a family to join us to the walk to the village n well i m thinking 120 rolls so i go along. there s a little picture to be taken everywhere i look. n the sky warms up. n there s little purple bell flowers everywhere, they creep up on windows, it seems to be the only flower i can see. sometimes disproportionally big to what i d expect them to be. it s an hours walk n there s a lake too, more like a hole into the ground, lacking in width but not in depth by the looks of it. i believe the pictures i have taken so far mount up to about 200 at leats. do the maths of film rolls in my pockets n bag. n i keep going. there s more ppl than i d expect to see in a village. quite jolly they seem too, almost festive. the school building is magnificent. n smells just like an old school building should n feels the right way. the main sound in my ear is the photo cameras shutter. luca iemi is so fast n excited. i see the woman i see her n she sees me. she s smiling at me. n i yell at luca iemi. but he cant see her. he wont run. not like i run. the woman is only lookin at me though n not at luca iemi. but i close my eyes almost press them tight n i run. my body aches like my musces r on fire n when i look back the blonde woman is holding luca iemi real tight. when she releases him i dont see her no more.
i dnt want to see luca iemi anymore either. i ask someone to walk with me back to the logs cos the sky s much darker now n it must be the bloody dusk n nobody is willing to. nobody s speaking to me. n luca iemi is coming. n he looks normal but not real. his walking s a little slightly more stiff. n his eyes r a little less of luca iemi. but i dont know if i m imagining this. finally a smallish plump girl goes looking for a flashlight to help me find my way back. i think she s takin an interest in luca iemi. this is quite good, excellent turnout. she wants to walk with us. so she can talk to luca iemi. i think he s trying to touch me, which i consider really bizzare. maybe i m going insane. maybe. may also not be. it s pretty dark n the persistence with which luca iemi s trying to touch me is worrying me. i walk ahead or trail behind the girl n him.
the frigid floating blond woman looks like me. she looks like me.
back with the others, liam has put a gigantic plastic foil on top of most of the strange cabins, to protect them from the cold n rain n snow, because he plans to have us all sleep in there. i m crying. i can not speak anymore. outside the girl from the village is screaming. luca iemi has withered n he is now frigid too, on the ground. his colour is that of the sky. that of the flowers. he s blue n purple n black. he looks alive but he is not. the girl is going crazy. i wish her to shut the fuck up. her screams r tearing my brain apart. we leave luca iemi at the front door in a strange offering manner. the old man in the thin long beard crosses his arms n abandons him there facing the woods.
me n liam n 2 more workers, all working on repairing the living room, which is to say the main cabin sit down to have a break. n then the wall shifts n they can see it too. this time i can tell they can see it. it is the women in their torn rags n uncombed ong hair. red. n blonde. we see them like they see us. but they do not stand up this time. their long skinny arms grab for children standing. they dismember them. n then they let their blood run into their wounded mouths. their hungry eyes enjoy the sight of tearing flesh into shreds. a whole bunch of children. like a flock of sheep. their movements are precise. slow. i can feel the wild screaming peasure n their chests as their almost choking on the blood. n the objects in the back n all around, still remaining hidden in the dark r gaining in focus. it is objects that mean nothing to me i cannot understand. there is peoples hearts in a jar. the women r looking among their shreds of lace n dirty white sking. n floating. n the smell it is everywhere now.
the smell has been the deadly nightshade all along.

[significant footnote: liam is ofc liam neeson]