Notes from Underground
I’m sitting behind my new white desk in my room. This is a strange feeling. Especially, if I imagine how much time I’m going to spend here this year. Trying to get accostumed to the idea. So I’m writing something. It’s not that I have any important thing to say. Too bad to start the year with a senseless entry, though.
My room is very small, or better to say average Amsterdam-sized. Probably this is why I never planned to have any other furniture in it. I had shelves hung on the wall, a tiny bed, a commode and two small sized tables: a round and a squared one. One for my laptop and one just to have another round table, too. The round table left my room at the end.
Now if I’m looking around - Only theoretically, of course. When I’m writing, I’m watching the screen. And if I look above because I’m looking for the right word (or just a better one) I see the map of Amsterdam. - So if I’m looking around in my re-arranged room with my precious white desk in it, what I feel is space and comfort. I feel at home. I’m sure it has something to do with Feng-shui. Maybe it has something to do with arriving to a decision, too.
A simple white desk. A lifeless object. Dead wood. But when I sit behind it, the magic happens. What was outside now is coming inside no matter how much furniture I have. I’m choosing the place, the time and the characters. Dostoyevsky goes gambling with Bukowski. They lose. Cate Blanchett falls in love with Brad Pitt for real. She tells him: „The last time a man was honest with me, he was lying. So tell me something.” Vampires can survive daylight. They still skip breakfast.
I haven’t decided yet whether the girl and the boy are going to kiss each other in the sunset before they separate. Heavy rain is falling from the sky, the seats of their bikes are getting wet, their boots are stepping in mud. Seemingly they don’t care. Time is passing and I haven’t decided yet whether love exists in this city or not. Whatever happens, first I'll check the spelling.
My room is very small, or better to say average Amsterdam-sized. Probably this is why I never planned to have any other furniture in it. I had shelves hung on the wall, a tiny bed, a commode and two small sized tables: a round and a squared one. One for my laptop and one just to have another round table, too. The round table left my room at the end.
Now if I’m looking around - Only theoretically, of course. When I’m writing, I’m watching the screen. And if I look above because I’m looking for the right word (or just a better one) I see the map of Amsterdam. - So if I’m looking around in my re-arranged room with my precious white desk in it, what I feel is space and comfort. I feel at home. I’m sure it has something to do with Feng-shui. Maybe it has something to do with arriving to a decision, too.
A simple white desk. A lifeless object. Dead wood. But when I sit behind it, the magic happens. What was outside now is coming inside no matter how much furniture I have. I’m choosing the place, the time and the characters. Dostoyevsky goes gambling with Bukowski. They lose. Cate Blanchett falls in love with Brad Pitt for real. She tells him: „The last time a man was honest with me, he was lying. So tell me something.” Vampires can survive daylight. They still skip breakfast.
I haven’t decided yet whether the girl and the boy are going to kiss each other in the sunset before they separate. Heavy rain is falling from the sky, the seats of their bikes are getting wet, their boots are stepping in mud. Seemingly they don’t care. Time is passing and I haven’t decided yet whether love exists in this city or not. Whatever happens, first I'll check the spelling.
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