The Fracture My little sister gives me a funny look, takes two interconnected track pieces in her hands, and threatens to break them unless I pick her up. I suffer a hernia, but I hold on to her.
The infant Jesus only looks at me. I feel no pain.
My mother admonishes me: “Don’t throw your socks on top of the wardrobe again!”
I just lack the interest to continue with the toy train. More accurately, I am still fascinated by this toy, but currently, the fear in my emotional world predominates.
My father places me on his lap. I don’t like that, so I slide onto a chair. Then he explains that even the smallest cuts on the ear can lead to severe bleeding. Meanwhile, my gaze wanders between him and the overflowing aquarium. There are small fish in it. Unfortunately, I have fed them with a whole loaf of bread.
Something inside my body is broken. That’s why I feel afraid, even terrified, and that’s why I wonder about heaven. My answer leads to doubt and withdrawal.
Something cold and sticky flows up into my nose. It feels as if I’m trying to do a handstand underwater. I’m threatening to drown, yet I still breathe deeply and see blurrily. Someone opens the bathroom door. I can’t make out the intruder, but I feel the pressure of his hand on my neck. Sounds like babbling or quacking penetrate my ear.
What Will You Do, Jack? As soon as it gets dark and quiet, I breathe more shallowly. I close one door and open another. Many here behave this way. I feel better as I fall asleep. Sometimes I consciously dream before falling asleep and feel comfort before losing consciousness and merely observing. I often wake up tired and usually start the day the same way. After a restful night without the sun, I feel refreshed. Yet, my mind seeks nourishment outside of its own world of thoughts. Though trapped in flesh, I look around confused. I hesitate to make decisions, whether about clothing or food. I like to watch as time unfolds its effects. Therefore, I do not decide alone, but let time and the clock hands carry me along. Dreaming is important to me. Sometimes I wish I could sleep for days. Yet nightmares with blurred childhood memories, deep waters, and strange encounters with fat geese are like a thorn in my neck. Geese can warn against strangers as loudly as guard dogs. Too much fatty food and bananas cause severe heartburn. The only solution then is to sleep sitting up. This holds back the acid, but not the clear thoughts threatening to overwhelm me.
The Tank Due to constant, violent sleep deprivation, sometimes lasting a week, I sleep long and dream a lot. When I struggle for air in a water-filled container, I regularly threaten to drown. They force-feed me through a tube because I refuse to eat. Thus, they also nourish my fantasies that haunt me in sleep. Sitting in my cell, propping my head with my hands, I don’t really live – I exist solely through their violence.
Mother The animal I see is strong and tamed by man, so it serves him. It seems as if it’s inviting me to enter fertile land to sow, plow, harvest, and feed it with good hay. I like this thought and will pursue it further as I fall asleep. Overcome with tiredness, only now do I notice the rider lighting a cigarette. He looks at me and explains that this area is not suitable for cultivation. It’s a holly forest, he says. I lower my head, look at the painted arrow supposed to direct me, and start to sway. Staggering, I fall onto my sleeping place, close the door, and see my mother. She disapproves of the friends who constantly tug at my clothes. “Pull yourself together, Mo,” she says.