Ivan Dobnik - Vilenica

218 · Edo Popović
Eyes
(Excerpt)
1.
I was born, that’s all that can be said of the beginning. Of later times,
either, there isn’t God knows what to be said, I mean like discovering a
mystery or something. There isn’t any such thing as a mystery of life. There
are biological processes, symptoms, diagnoses, sickness charts, statistics,
candles on cakes, testimonies, operative information, letters of dismissal,
overdue reminders, minutes, statements, charges, obituaries, but no mystery.
There’s also the question of what that pair had on their minds when they
were messing about your conception. Most probably nothing. It’s very
unlikely that a woman and a man, when they sneak into bed, engage in
deep philosophical issues or consider the final consequences of their act.
The mind doesn’t go into that, the heart just pumps blood, and the consequences
are thought about afterwards. Afterwards, which means the situation
is wildly out of control. That you’re already in circulation and that
nothing can be done about it. No stepping back. Fuck it, we’re the heroes
of life, of this beautiful, huge life, don’t you forget that.
At the very beginning you need a little grub, a little attention, a dry diaper,
perhaps a lullaby, but it costs, it sometimes really costs big time. At first you
understand nothing; you just suck and fill diapers, and then, without warning,
various things start falling down on you. A heap of things befall you
every day, every fucking day, and you wonder who’s in control of the situation;
somebody should, you think, hold the wheel in their hand, but things
keep falling down on you at random, and if you’re lucky, if you’re incredibly
lucky, you somehow manage to deal with them. But, only few are that lucky,
one in a hundred thousand, one in a million. This is why there are shopping
centres, the Church, social services, Red Cross, psychiatric clinics, play stations,
TV, Rainbow, Ku Klux Klan, a huge spider’s net in which those who
weren’t lucky flounder about.
Really, do you ever wonder how two people can make a baby and then say,
We’re sorry, we’ve screwed up, we’d rather have a cat or something.
All right, I’m talking nonsense; of course people can do that. Moreover,
we’re all more or less results of such actions. Pleasure first, and then…
Well, we’ll think of something, right? Misunderstanding, there’s always
some misunderstanding involved. A classical misunderstanding provoked
by cave fear, let’s say. It’s not at all hard to imagine a stormy night with
thunder so powerful and so close that it provoked primordial fear in my
old pair, and they instinctively clung to each other… It’s also possible that