When I take my lenses out in the evening, everything’s a big blur again. I’d like to be able to take my ears out in the evening too, but I can’t. At night I can hear the creatures that live inside my mattress eating it. Before long I won’t have a mattress any more. Before long they’ll take over my mattress, and maybe me along with it. I’d like them to take a very-very long time about it though. Those creatures hate me—they think I’m the enemy. Actually I don’t believe they think that. They don’t think; they have no brain. I do have a brain; I know.
The sounds were getting so loud that I couldn’t sleep on that mattress any more. I slashed the mattress open, pressed as hard as I could through the springs, and pulled out the mattress filling, screaming frantically the whole time. When the job was done I called to my parents and said that the dog, our little white Bolonka, had chewed the mattress to bits. I don’t know if they believed that, but in any case I got a new mattress from the shop, one that no one had used before, unlike the old one. Dad took the old one to the dump. Now filthy worms and all kinds of mutants live in it. Actually I don’t know if they do; I’ve got a new mattress that doesn’t torment me as much. In the evening, if I remember, I whisper to the new mattress, threatening it with all the things that might happen if it starts making too much noise.
Actually I do sort of like hearing and seeing this well. I’m a weirdo. Well, that’s not what I think personally, but there has been the impression that I’m considered a weirdo. I’m always different from the others. I’m never bored; the others are. My parents are worried about me because they think I’m bored all the time. All the people who know of me and about me think I’m bored. I no longer enjoy communicating with some people; they’re liars. I’m not, and I passed away.
A moment before my death I saw an eagle flying. It was so big and beautiful. What was weird was that when I looked at it I felt like I was an ordinary person watching an eagle flying. Suddenly the eagle fell and then I died. No; I didn’t actually die—I turned into an eagle. I don’t know how the transformation actually happened because when I awakened (to life?) I already was an eagle. It was so funny—to start with I didn’t know how to act like an eagle. I sat on a rock like a human, but unfortunately eagles’ backsides aren’t as soft as that of a human. It was so great—I was happy. I liked my new body. I had feathery, strong wings, claws and rough trousers. Most of all I liked my beak.
I was no longer living in society—I might have been in the desert somewhere, because there weren’t any people. I saw hyenas. I flew towards them, they ran and dispersed; they were afraid of me. I guess I thought hyenas were stronger than eagles. And maybe they are; I was a human eagle after all. Maybe the hyenas realized there was something suspicious about me. I landed on a goat carcass and started eating with my beak. I discovered that as a bird, you can only eat by gobbling. Eating with a beak is interesting, I liked it.
I flew to a nest on a cliff. Was it my nest? I thought about what had happened to my body and the eagle’s spirit. Me, my mind and spirit were now inside the eagle’s body. Maybe the eagle’s spirit and mind were in there too and both of us were inside it. I was using the eagle’s instincts and its knowledge of life. Or had the eagle entered my body and was out there somewhere, trying to take wing. Hmm . . . was I going mad? Well, at least that’s what they think at home. It was as if I was with my body, somewhere, I don’t know where, but I was here. I started exploring my new body. I wanted to know if I was still a female eagle; I guess I was. It would be strange to be a male, I wouldn’t really know how to act if I were. I got restless—how come I was now an eagle? Maybe this is normal, I thought, maybe other people also change into an animal or a bird for a moment. And suddenly it was my own fault, for having wanted to go away somewhere else. I didn’t want my old body back; I could still fly. I was convinced that I should have been born an eagle, but something went wrong. I flew and flew. I was so strong. I flew all over the world and I felt the immense strength in my wings. I flew over all kinds of cities and they were all empty. No signs of life. Everyone had disappeared. Emptiness reigned over the whole world. Not a single human; the cars had stopped and the streets were empty. I flew over a tiny body of water and saw my reflection. I had changed, my body was starting to come back—help, I would need to land soon! I was very tired and fell asleep.
I was awakened by some monkey noises. I opened my eyes and saw a boy making monkey movements and noises. He had a monkey inside him, just like I had an eagle in me. Maybe it was only us two in the world? I don’t know how to act around monkeys, so I’m still alone.
The eagle inside me was panicking—it wanted to get out. I tried to take flight again. I ran around, making flying movements with my arms, but I couldn’t take flight. I was human again. I was quite confused, and to top it off my period started the moment I stopped trying to fly. Blood brought me back to earth; how could all that dreaminess end in menstruation? It couldn’t—I started giving birth, or maybe laying an egg. Children came out of me, inside bloody soap bubbles, and they made their way out of me without bursting. They were my children, and there were so many of them. And then I died again (although I’m not as sure about dying as I used to be).
