[Archive] Someone in Human Land

I do not know what kind of horrible thing could influence me in the night time, but in that moment I felt like my bedroom was compressing. I had to leave my house. Where to go at 11 PM? Yes, I thought that the best is to go to a place where I could drink some liquors and nothing else besides my mind would compress. Two steps out of my door and I heard a voice saying: “May I have a cigarette?”

At first I did not figure out if that was a female voice or a male voice. I looked around and noticed that there was a man dressed up to the nines. He was holding in his hand a plastic bag from which was snuffing aluminium bronze. That bag was releasing a strange flavour, making me wonder if there was a way to leave the planet and live among nameless and spineless beings in a galaxy ruled by an unknown creature.

“Yes,” I said.

“Thank you very much. Do you have a lighter?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Oh! Thank you! Thank you! I would like to ask you one more question… You know, I have just finished my work at the large national company which hired me. I was at the office by 7 AM and stayed until 11 PM… You know, I would like to go and have some fun, to get rid of the black thoughts… I would like to dance, to drink wine, to talk to women and maybe to return home with one of them. So, can you give me some money to go to a decent place?”

“It’s surely a no… Why don’t you ask the corporation if it’s going to pay you?”

“This is not your business and you know that. Everyone is selfish and ungrateful.”

I left this guy and heard him screaming from behind. It lasted about five minutes and then stopped. I was heading to downtown in the very middle of a frosty night. But nonetheless the streets were crowded with children who were looking and behaving like buffalos, women running and carrying luggages and lots of noisy people. There was a naked girl in a cesspool with another one, who was dressed with a fur coat and was taking pictures. I stopped for a while, I raised my voice and asked them: “What’s the purpose of all these?”

“There is no such thing! We are just having fun!”

I kept my way and I understood that the coldness was no jesting-matter. I decided then to get into the first night bar which came in my way. There was no suitable time for demands. So I made my way towards the wooden cottage from the top of the street. On the entrance there was the word “bar” written. I opened the door and went downstairs. I heard piano music and I saw on the stairs lots of blood and body fluid splashes. I went to the basement and the picture was just like this: a small room decorated with small chairs and smoke clouds. On the left side was a table and a woman was sitting alone there, reading a book. A man was crying in the doorway, saying over and over again: “I am not the one to blame! I am not the one to blame!” It was not something to lie on my line, but seeing myself down in that cheap inferno, I thought it would be wonderful if I go and buy some drinks. Eventually I spotted the bar, but I was still not able to control my curiosity, and I stared at the people around me as if they were aliens. Then I saw a woman propped on the bar and an old boy who had his leg amputated was flagellating her, yelling: “This is why I came here!” There was no time to wonder, because then my view focused on the stage where some naked young girls, having about ten years old, were dancing and throwing cash here and there to random customers. I thought it would be better to annihilate my rationality and I remembered the bar and asked for a vodka. “We do not sell alcohol. I am sorry!”

The bartender was no other than Saddam Hussein.


“Someone in Human Land” was written around 2012




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