Oops, I forgot that the m word may hurt the Catholic feelings of girls from my university, the Society of Stupid Blonde Cunts that occupies itself with internet espionage. They got the blog of our lecturer only to comment on it in a mean and rather shitty way (I guess they know they'll never manage to climb up her level, her style), so they can get here as well. Whatever.
I do get angry, because the stupidity is not an excuse. Because I never dare to face the situation and react properly; it won't come until I'm here, all alone. (I jump and jump, and jump.) I never dare although I know that the blonde cunt is a dragon and what the dragon jeers at is an extremely positive phenomenon. The dragon is to be neutralized, or at least rebuked.
I get angry because of the whole week full of people I really can't abide.
But then I visit the precious blog of Remigiusz Grzela (Polish speakers – go for it: http://remigiusz-grzela.bloog.pl/ ) where I find a few poems from the new volume by Julia Hartwig. And the tranquility comes. Exactly like Jeanette Winterson says: poetry - an espresso; "an energy shot, a hit of warmth". Sobering and balance. Now it's bright and simple.
I met Krzysiek on Wednesday. He said I'd thrive in this city one day. It sounded like a citation and I'm almost sure it was one.
And yesterday I had a short talk with my dear high school Poet. He told me off for my Sisyphean "back to basic". "How much time will you waste on that?", he asked. I know he was right. But here, in this environment, completing small tasks is all I can do. This, and my soap bubbles shaped fantasies that don't even get skin close to the reality. So I try to do the basics, one by one. I painstakingly find the names for my actions, I try to remember the dates, I do the ironing and focus on consuming my whole-wheat bread. I drive myself to the thought exercise, at least five to ten minutes a day. Just not to let myself go crazy. These are the basics. I believe it's going to be smoothly later on, that I'll be able to relax. As for today I have to catch the rhythm, fluidize things, get used to my reflection in new mirrors (an awful lot of those in my new-old flat, by the way). I believe that's what to be done.
And if it's really wasting the time and hiding behind the pyramids of old blocks, built in a rather neurotic act, well, it's still the only thing I can do for now.
Talking about my jumping:
