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- Underground eXperts United
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- [ A Meager Attempt ] [ By Sophia ]
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- ____________________________________________________________________
- ____________________________________________________________________
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- a meager attempt
- written by Sophia
-
- It had been four months since the last time we saw each other. The cramped
- attic was burning hot. Had to gulp down saliva, the smell of filthy body
- almost made me throw up.
- No walls. Kitchen, living room, bedroom - all in the same area. Instead
- of rugs, scattered magazines. A score of wine bottles were lined up by the
- window. Odd, but she had always been odd. I suppose my nervousness shone
- through, because she asked me to sit down with a calm voice.
- "How's business?" she asked, while still rubbing a grey lump of concrete
- with sandpaper.
- "Excellent, great, there's nothing more profitable than the mail-
- ordering business in this day and age. You know, people got no money,
- economy is down the drain. No one can afford shopping at the malls
- nowadays, but primarily...," rhetorical pause, "... people are so damn
- lazy. Sitting in front of the television set and gorging themselves with
- peanuts, that's how people are today - they're LAZY. At this point I enter
- the scene. My concept aims for comfort. Just chose your garment in the
- catalogue, check a box and, whoosh, you got something fresh in no time.
- We're even on the Internet, gotta go with the flow, ya know. Got frigging
- good brands too, familiar with La Plume, no, what about Forever Young,
- nope, but Lord Lancelot then, it's leading, oh no? Okay... okay, Mickey
- Mickey hey, ha ha, remember that golden hit? No, we really gotta quit
- talking 'bout me, let's chat about you instead, what are you up to these
- days, why don't you ever gimme a call? Ha ha, I always resort to that one
- whenever I meet some old buddy."
- Not all that unexpected, she did not even indicate the faintest smile.
- She had never grasped my sense of humor. But she eventually decided to
- answer me anyway.
- "At the moment, I'm a part of an artistic group, Unicorus. Unicorn, in
- ordinary language. That's what we call ourselves. You know what the unicorn
- symbolizes? Didn't think so. It symbolizes purity and power. And that's
- exactly what we wish to obtain with our art, the purity and power around
- us, the purity in every unborn child, the human power, in everything from
- the unobtrusive buzz of the fly to the world-wide chant of the whales, yes,
- in everything, and this - yes, this - is the mission of every true artist
- to delineate."
- The sandpaper had been abandoned. Now she squirted paint over her lump.
- "Red, red, that's my color, powerful, aggressive, vigorous and allied
- with Fire." She prolonged, emphasizing the e, Fireee. "And green, the
- lovely color of the Earth," she laughed and whipped the brush against the
- lump, now slightly covered in a dirty reddish shade.
- I had been silent for quite some time, wondering what to say, when an
- awful feeling crawled up on me. Something did not make sense. But then I
- found out; green was not the color of the Earth, brown was! which I
- informed her.
- "Cut it out," she said with a low voice, an initial sign of the oncoming
- eruption: "Here we go again! You always know best. What do you know about
- color symbolism? Nothing! Have you read H.W. Sohmner, 'The Color Symbolism
- of the West-Coast-Salish Mythology'? Have you ever tried to interpret the
- language of nature? No, you haven't. And do you know how it really is to
- struggle for your art, day in and day out? To never have any money? You,
- with your fancy cars and plastic cards, old gold cards, what about sharing
- a bit of your wealth with people who actually NEEDS it, instead of wasting
- it all on expensive drinks, bimbos, whores."
- Rage overwhelmed me. "Now you gonna listen to me for a change. You think
- life is some goddamn kindergarten? Don't you think a lot of people would
- love to switch with you, playing all day long and enjoying a tiny bit of
- freedom? Don't you think I would like to..."
- I fell silent, catching my breath while trying to figure out what to say
- next. She had said 'bimbos, whores'. Now it was my turn.
- "You, with your shabby werewolf, the tramp whom haven't got anything
- better to do than attending courses where you sit and shit out your anxiety
- all over the floor, not to mention that effing negro on your damn drumming
- class, do you really think I'm so stupid I don't realize that it was just
- his big fu..."
- Someone interrupted me. "Oh, you're here too, daddy? I'm so glad you
- and mom are happy together..."
- In guilt, we looked at our ten-year-old son. I ruffled his hair, the way
- I used to do before me and my wife decided to split up. A time associated
- with Bad times. And it certainly had not become any better. The carrot cake
- stuffed to the limit with fibers, together with some awful thing refereed
- to as coffee, ecologically correct shit, filled me with anguish. When it
- was all over, I enjoyed a deep sigh of relief. This was the way life was
- supposed to be. Wasn't it?
-
- A long time ago I used to work as a remedial teacher. My wife was a social
- secretary. After she had read a book on the subject of happiness, we
- decided to do something with our lives. I longed for the life of commerce,
- get on the market and make money. My wife wanted to develop her artistic
- talent. And, after all, our sex life was quite meager. So, it came to this.
- But at least we had made an attempt, which is more than people usually do.
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- uXu #414 Underground eXperts United 1998 uXu #414
- Call RIPCO ][ -> +1-773-528-5020
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