ISSN 1409-6900 | UDK 82+7 Blesok no. 02 | volume I | April-May, 1998
Blesok no. 02,
The Morning in which…
The man for whom here is possibility to be the subject of this story was placed in a landscape unfamiliar to him also: on a blue rock, not very sheer; other not very sheer rocks around; greenery and a blue-violet sky around.
That could’ve been a good start but it wasn’t a precondition. Indeed, what kind of a landscape is it anyway: a blue rock, not very sheer; a similar blue rocks around, also not very sheer and greenery also around and a blue sky above. Anyway, the man was placed in that landscape (what were the reasons – it wasn’t clear to him also – he was simply there) and maybe because of that he felt a pressure on the crown of his head and what happened next happened so very fast or quickened or it was simply happening: he left out his body, his soul and he knew that his body can fly also, but he didn’t know where. It sounds unconvincing, but the man really didn’t know where, maybe because of that it hung, his soul above his body and he hesitated, if that was what his soul was feeling at the moment.
By /his/ right side there was a forest trail, with a white horse in a light trot on it. The white horse, his soul had a thought, or it knew, can be a not very good omen /after he (the man) will wake up and try to interpret the dream/ and because of that he tried to paint the horse in red, for example. The horse was alive . And: man mounted or more precise: suddenly he was on the horseback and the horse wasn’t white or painted anymore but only a horse, so whatever that means.
All next that followed in a great speed, and which was already announced and mentioned above in the first paragraph, was happening in such a great speed, in such a great speed, so fast or quickened so the registrar of this event didn’t only fail at writing down everything, but he also failed at seeing the all thing in whole. In such a great speed was happening what happened next what followed. And is there a point to
1. The horse was alive – This sentence, although simple, will provoke great astonishment and confusion, even for the writer himself, and he will confide it to his publisher in a moment of sincerity. Namely, he himself (the writer or the composer as he declares himself, m.n.) didn’t know even what he meant with it, so, inclined to a mystification anyway, will try to convince his publisher, and maybe himself too, and the reader – of course, that in fact, he actually didn’t even wrote the sentence (The horse was alive, m.n.). – note by the publisher.
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