Literary Yard

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Story: Notes from Above Ground

By: Fredrik Zander

Notes from above ground

Before I live I write this message. There might be secrets for you to know as my feet were below the ground that fed me like a solemn plant that whispered secrets in my mute ear; I didn’t hear. Duty? Oh yeah! A crime was committed and it was the headlines; the bastard press as usual. Synergy! Oh how it’s created. We manufacture disasters every day. I bet the opium is running as low as alcohol; not at all. Will east and west ever meet I wonder? I put a spell on me because I’m mine and I’m not free but born to stay; to stick around. The coffin was simply too small and I had to rise and at the same time make myself smaller. Quite an enterprise! Never was there any mountain to climb. Mountains are for adorers; we could be them if we want to.

The words came to a brisk halt. Chaos but also a promise for a new beginning. The big bully is not as big as it used to be perhaps and Latin winds will hopefully spread across the land that has a patent in its name for an entire continent. L’America is L’America, America and L’Amérique for sure; let’s face that fact and by all means try to stay together.

They say Canadian mosquitos make a somewhat different sound than the Nordic and the Russian ones. I wouldn’t know. The Russian and Nordic ones are probably keen on Vodka whereas the Canadian ones tend to fancy wine I reckon. I like wine. Never was a Vodka drinker; no offence to anyone. My taste is my taste and I don’t intend to impose it on others. Canada might suit me though.

Sting ray! What a name. Vehicles come and go and Tibet is open for that reason. Yes indeed. That’s Ford for yah. Never mind the brands; let’s settle for vehicles even though “car” more often than not is the first word a young child learns. “Vehicle” is a wider category; save that for later.

So! What to do here above ground? Integritywise I might have managed to as good as I can. This cannot be ∑x+∞ because we’re finite. It’s just that I just rose and the rose spells Amanda. I wish I could reach her; she’s had a rough time. Hey you! It’s not over yet. The clock is still ticking normally, it’s just a bully that’s been torn as it lives in a bubble. The gates of the horizon are questioned; bolts unlocked and we live in a fragile society. I hope things will be better after I’ve had a small dish; at least my mind will be elsewhere. I wouldn’t know what to call it but it somehow rhymes with an Austrian phenomenon. Much needed. What’s wrong anyway but a lot. Now everything here is flooded.

I have my space – my space in which to breathe and I’m thankful for that. We are not free. Freedom is a buzzword; nothing else. There are so many buzzwords. Bastard press! Bastard universe. The multiversa makes up parallel spaces for us to have a glance at. I was always younger than yesterday; I must have forgotten that while in the coffin. Misery? Oh yeah! I’m grateful for the misery because it helped me grow. Misery can help people grow if you believe it will.

Let’s not believe in angels and devils in this world. Nothing is black and white and I disagree with one American writer; John Steinbeck. People are not born evil. People are shaped and they also shape themselves. Look who’s talking! Did I shape the coffin? No sir! The coffin needed another craft than mine to be built.

Another American informed me that Nihilism meant that nothing matters. It doesn’t! Nihilism simply states that there are no values in morals. That is to say that there are no values unless we create them; that’s what we need to do. People can hate religion but what they really hate, I reckon, is the political use of it. People often need guiding principles. Personally I’m stuffed with them, perhaps to stuffed, I was almost mummified; I’d like to give that to you my reader.

We need to take care of each other otherwise we’re wasted. I hope the big bully has learned that. Truths can be hard at times; any Indian knows that. I’s hard to invert a dream; it doesn’t work out easily.

I’m looking for a woman simply because I like their company. We have a lot in common. I wish for my friend; I hope for them and if it would do any good I could get down on my knees and pray for them all. I never left them! I admit having been angry in disenchanted times but a man is only a man; what can he do? I’m not looking for a car. Some things never come back even though we can think of it that way even though Robert Kennedy probably was quite a guy. So was Martin Luther King probably. Elvis was just a man…if “just” is the word for it. Oh how fame rapes! People can be nostalgic. I don’t intend to conjure up anything like that since it’s not me. My naïvété is too strong at times I’m afraid. All angels of hell can go home – the wars could be over. We have other things to think about these days and that’s to mend what’s broken by the 20:th century. The new millennium certainly didn’t start well – it’s been a slippery slope. Bastard universe! I hope and if I can I pray that we’ve reached a turning point. Even Los Angeles and London suffer now and then.

I have a dream! I want to go to Israel and from there to Iran to see Pakistan and reach India. Amritsar! Never been there but lions don’t corrode. I’m in love with Sufism but I don’t know if that’s understood nor well seen. There are a lot of them. I’ve been an Indian hiding in the feathered clouds but now I’m back from the coffin where it sent me.. By Indian I perhaps mean that I have dreams. I CAN be a visionary but it sent me to the coffin. I don’t know why I have to pay for my life. My friends! I hope that you’re with me still, even from a distance. I don’t aim to touch from a distance; that would be crude since the expression is taken.

So take care ladies and gentlemen. Bueno! Let’s stop there now; there’s a hippo living in all of us; it’s easy to forget that. I think they’re cute myself. Entschuldigung aber Ich kannnicht Deutch sprechen – you might notice that from the spelling. Dresden is not feeling good at the moment. Been there long ago. It was all like a huge grass field. I remember a church without a roof. Guilt by accusation. I now recall my favourite Tarkovskij movie. It’s all in black and white except the end when it turns to colours. 4 hours of pure magic!

I’d better stick to something more familiar. We need to stay together, now won’t we; or else what have we learned so far?

Let me be
The language wind
That carries
My name…

Let me develop
Pictures of earth!

Let me experience chaos
In the motion
Of fern.

Let me be microscope wind
Touching your face.

A facial structure can be beautiful, regardless of age. It’s how we’re moulded and how we mould ourselves that matters. Please tame the beast that is within me and turn it into a hippo…not a hype.

Enamoured with a jaded moon by my side; I do not strive for comfort in the ugly city where all I hear are the explosions of the future. If I can break a brick I would before the light flickers and spirits rise to the sky as to greet the bagpipe moon as seen from within.


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