A movement within the cursed space of the membership idea
After a long experimental period of observations and actions, not as much pointed purposefully in consciously desired directions as it is toward the atmosphere of sauntering strolls around – and within an environment of predefining architectural and lingual structures of membership-ideas, I slowly discovered and have to admit: I am a no-body. A no-member. As such, it feels like being no where. From here I will tell.
Thick fog creeps out of my eyes, ears, mouth and nostrils. It wears the shape of fear. By pushing out of me it persuades me to desire without direction.
Following my desire, I am lost. I’m scared shitless. I sweat. I shake. I wake up. Didn’t sleep. I have no clue of the past. No memory stimulating all of what I feel and think now. No trace. Night. I can hardly see my hands in front of my eyes. Cold air. No smell. I hear. A faith healer’s voice is coming over the radio telling me to collect a mirror and wire, an apple, batteries, a light bulb and a thread of some kind and return with all of it to the radio. The voice tells me how to arrange the things to build a screen on which I’m supposed to see the bodies that belong to the transformations the voice is going to ...