Well, one of the issues I have with this whole “writing down” thing is that I do not remember what I have “written down” here before. If I had chosen to just report on current events, then the media sources would do the sorting out for me. My opinion could swing in just the perfect level of flexibility and I would never run into the issue with me being worried if what I am writing here had been told, many times, much better, by the previous me.
I was aware that my supply of shareable ideas is limited… but why does it have to be finite?
So I do not want to repeat myself. And I also would not like to retell stories, yet in a much worse mood, as if I were stripping them to look much worse than that shiny last year’s model.
Then there are the other events I would really like to write about, but they are just so elaborate and big… how am I supposed to write about them without adding yet another few hours to my 36 hour days. (Clearly this was a lie… my days last for as long as your days last, my dear reader…)
Oh, and I should stop writing after 22:00 (that’s 10PM, for our American friends.) After 22:00 I should maybe just play with a knife, hitting the spaces between my stretched out fingers, over and over again, until I would finally just completely lose something, control, interest, maybe some blood…
See, did I ever mention that we used to play with knifes a lot? When we were boys, we would play with knifes a lot. And I mean boys in Poland… which means that I must have started throwing a knife for living when I was about 5. Okay, I did not do it for living, but I spent large amounts of my days playing with a knife, often a folding knife, sometimes some other sort of little knife… always sharp… at least until we stated playing with it.
There were different games we played, I remember. I think my favorite had something to do with world domination. World domination and knifes and five year olds does sound about right, doesn’t it?
We would mark a circle on the dry ground (basically anywhere in front of the building (as the seeds for the grass had probably been used for the party official’s private golf course.) We would divide the circle into two halves. (One can do this by drawing a straight line through the circle… oh, and “straight” is more of a negotiable term. The opponents would then throw the knife onto the floor from different positions on their body… and whoever failed to make their knife stick in the ground with the blade, had to be the first one to give up a portion of his land. The person who had the knife first, would throw the knife onto the half of the opponent and then divide the land, expanding their area of influence. (the angle of the line would be determined by the angle in which the blade of the knife stuck in the ground… This would happen until the knife would not fall correctly, in which case the players took turns. Oh, the players tried to protect their land with their bodies, of course. Nobody wanted to see their land divided again and again… one had to remain on their area… until it was too small to stand on with one foot… at which point the defender would be allowed to leave their land (go into exile, I guess)… at which point the other player had to perform a whole series of successful attacks at the little piece of marked territory… again, the knife had to be thrown from various places on the body… the hip, the belt buckle, the shoulders, the tongue, the nose, the top of the head… (at least as far as i remember…) This was probably to symbolize the final struggles before the “liberation…”
Once the winner claimed the entire circle, the whole game would begin again… this time with somehow softer soil… clearly this game was really good for the environment.
Can you imagine how I felt when I arrived in Germany and the kids were playing with shiny little glass balls, those fancy little marbles?… (No, I was not impressed… actually quite the opposite…)
See, but have I told this story several times already?… Has my memory failed me?… have I invented some new unrealistic rules?…
I really can’t tell… I really do not know…
Oh, and nobody ever was injured, at least not when I was present. (I am serious…) well, except for this one single time… this one single time when I threw a little stone…
clearly, knifes are much safer than stones…
Oh, I still should not write after 22:00… I come up with really strange stuff… and I probably just keep repeating myself…
or is it history that keeps repeating itself?…
Good night…