Tag Archives: Balib

Toxic substance, money and debt

There was a canal where we could swim but no one did. People used it as a means of transport some times. We could walk until there was an overture, then queue for the small boat that would take us to the other side.

People were agitated about the world state of affairs. I was not so, and was surprised that people were so upset. Then one day a few of us met by chance, we had not arranged to meet and we probably did not want to, either. I was depressed and did not know why, and I was expecting a visit from far away. I had been walking everywhere instead of biking, then to go with this visit I had to get back on the bike and I felt lazy, for I had not biked for a long time. Then I tried to remember when I had been energetic and happy for the last time and was surprised to find that I didn’t even remember. I put on my cycling clothes and still felt uneasy.

I was in some kind of communal room that people would use to pass through from one room to another. I was getting ready. Then suddenly I was well dressed and I was not in that room, but near the river. Some one passed very close to me and touched my neck, probably thinking I was some one else. I felt attacked but then, realising that the big guy who had touched me had not done it on purpose, I calmed down, and was very relaxed and cool about it. I just wanted to continue going to wherever I was going.

But he made a point of stopping to apologise. I saw that he had construction clothing, he was a working guy. He had touched my neck with his glove. He pointed out that the glove he had touched me with was impregnated with some substance that could be toxic and I needed to be looked at. I didn’t want to, I didn’t think it was important and wanted to get on with whatever I was up to, but he insisted. He took me to an observation room where I would be examined and have whatever substance he had touched me with removed.

There were other people in beds too, in the observation room. We started to talk and we had an interesting conversation about debt in that observation room. Some people owed me money… And they started to tell me how serious the situation was. We need a revolution, they said, it is coming. I didn’t think it was. They explained that money didn’t exist. That it was all electronic annotations in some one’s electronic systems. That, I already believed. They said a few people had massive negative annotations because they owed so much. They explained that living in debt was a way of life for many. That, apart from the hazard of having people constantly reminding them that they owed money, it was a nice lifestyle. I remembered that the people who owed me money did not seem to have any intention to give it back to me. Then they said some people owed millions and millions, and that they kept having people like me who worked to pay for their life style, continuously transferring the wealth that we had produced by working from our standards of living to their own lavish lifestyles. Our conditions deteriorated so much there were people doing drastic things like committing suicide. Pressure was mounting and there would be a serious and bloody revolt soon.

My visit came and I was very happy, again, surprised and worried that the last time I had been happy had been so long before. I then took my visit to places of interest. We met with the Oriental man who often came to our shop. He explained that he was going abroad for a long time, it had to do with the revolution. I realised more and more how serious the situation was. He told us about his plans with great detail. Then it came down to me: he kept saying “I” and not “we”. I wondered what would come of his numerous family, but I just asked suddenly, interrupting:

“Hang on a second. Are you saying you are going on your own and not with Laan?”

Suga and the man looked at me, upset because I had interrupted them with such a trivial question. He explained that Laan and he were in the process of separating. I was scandalised because they had been together for so, so long. More than fifteen years altogether, I remembered when Laan told me she was moving in with her boyfriend.

I asked further and he mentioned some things about her, bad things about living with her that apparently made her unbearable. He really had no choice but to break up with her and give up the flat. Then I assumed he would leave the flat for his son, who happened to be my visit, but who was turning into my friend of European origin.

He explained that the one mistake he had made, the one mistake this perfect couple had done, had been to move in together. He explained that he had this perfect relationship with his family and then with Laan’s arrival the house became completely dominated by the only woman in the group, and that had been completely awful for the household, and the relationship, to the point that they now had to break up. I asked my companion at the time, which I was not sure whether it was my visit or my friend from Europe, if they were now hiring the rooms and they explained that the house would be empty although yes it would be handy to stay in the house and continue to use all the things they had built a home with. I tried to convince my friends of the convenience of keeping the house and staying in it.

“Why don’t you move in here then, to make it easier to pay the whole rent”, I was told. It was a very cheap rent, it made sense to move from my communal house into this flat. It was very tempting but I planned to leave all my things in my current house, keeping it as a safe backup, then move in the flat only as a trial. Maybe it was here that the Oriental man warned me about the unsuitability of moving in with the person you love.

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Spades, picks and rakes

Suga, Lojo, Sojel and me were building something together, to do with some community garden. We had a wheel barrel that we used to carry stuff, so we went together with the barrel to a place that looked like Teduso. The barrel was empty when we went there, and it was full of garden tools when we were returning.

I had been carrying the barrel when it was empty and I was carrying it once it was full too. But I assumed that we would take turns because it was heavy. At one point it began to look like they were not going to carry the barrel at any point. They were walking in front of me, faster, and I struggled with the spades and picks and rakes. At one point they fell and I called out:
“Hey are you not going to help me?” They stopped and looked back at me; they had not expected this. “I need help with this!”

Then some passer-by pointed out that all the tools were on the pavement. One spade was right next to the barrel; it had just fallen. Then a rake was a few steps behind, and a spade was a few steps behind that. All my tools were on the pavement, each a few steps apart, forming a trail from where I had come. I went to pick all of them up and put them back on the barrel, which now was not a barrel, but a bicycle with a carrier device at the front.

“We are going back on public transport, and you go on the bike”

I realised it would have taken forever to walk back. So I got on the bike and on to the main road, but they walked down a hill street to get their bus. As I was on the main road, with the garden tools in front of me on the bike, I thought actually the way they had gone on was shorter, so I made a U-turn and went that way.
I did not see them on that street, maybe I was too shocked at the hill I had gone down on. I had to press both brakes hard because the slope was steep and short, and at the end of it I could see a wall that I would crash on, if I did not stop in time.

My brakes were not working completely properly and I panicked a bit, especially because if I crashed, my tools would be at risk as well, and I had no other way to re-join those three and whatever project we were involved in.
I braked hard and my bike slowed down. It did not go to a standstill but I did go slow enough to turn at the bottom of the street safely and continue my journey.

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Mum leaving

I was sleeping on a bed, in a room that could be either my current room or my room in Balib. Then I heard some steps that sounded like my mother. I was not sure but I thought, if she comes into the room, then I am dreaming because I know I am not in Balib.

So the door opened and my mum talked softly, so I thought, I am dreaming. I felt the usual at the beginning of a lucid dream and it went on. My mother and I had a nice conversation, during which her face gradually changed from a very young, beautiful face, to an almost unrecognisable old face, yet I could still recognise some of her features in this old face. Then she started to say she was leaving. I begged her not to, and in I lost whatever lucidity was left.

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