And the others? Do they also exist by chance, or is there some hidden meaning in their existence? Why do I only remember last night, and I can't recall the rest at all? What happened that was so important that it's worth remembering? I smile. Another unique and eventful night. It's as if someone, or something, wouldn't let me sleep a wink until I could decipher the meaning of its existence in this perverse reality. It's so easy to make someone laugh. A good joke, a witticism, a story. And it doesn't have to be about forbidden things.
"Imagine, everyone having fun as they should. Full of civility. An equal number of gentlemen and ladies. Each gentleman is busy with his lady. And each lady with her gentleman. Everyone present is holding modest drinks in their hands. The gentlemen, perhaps not so modest. But you have to appreciate that; they try, their whole lives. Yet somehow, it's not noticed enough. But that's our fate," I add defiantly.
I look at the faces listening to me. As long as they're still listening, that's good. If I start getting boring, I'll have to change the story, and I have a few up my sleeve. For now, they'll remain a surprise.
"Imagine, the party's in full swing. Music plays in the background. Most people sway to the sounds coming from the stereo, some are engaged in conversation. Everyone throws parties. Bigger, smaller. It all depends on the number of people and the size of the apartment where they're being held. In most cases, it's a dozen or so people. Not too many, not too few. Most often, these are people who know each other well and no one surprises anyone with their behavior. They have similar opinions, but they may differ on a few things. They avoid deviations from the norm like the plague. After all, how can anyone not want to find a girlfriend, get an apartment, start a family? There's no other alternative! Someone there supposedly said that there are people who devote themselves to meditation, losing sight of the rest of the world. It's all in the name of some Buddha. His name has been gaining popularity lately, appearing more and more often in conversations. But you have to be careful; one careless step and you're lost! There was something wrong with that Buddha, that's why he's so talked about." Someone wise said that those who seek are most likely to wander, so why all the fuss? What else would you like to know? Or maybe some answers don't reach me, fall apart, leaving an even greater emptiness before they're given to you. We supposedly have this freedom of thought, or don't we? We do! Each of us can think about whatever we want. But how do we explain the fact that each of us most often thinks about the same thing. About the future. It's what most often occupies our minds? I'm reminded of a sentence said by one of the characters in a Philip K. Dick book: "You must learn to live day by day. Never plan anything. At most, until lunch or evening, small periods of time, small duties and pleasures." An escape from reality. NEVER PLAN ANYTHING! Such a difficult art can be mastered. After all, what could await us tomorrow? Thanks, but I'm trying to have fun right now, right now, and tomorrow...? Tomorrow I'll be there, now I'm here.
Why does everyone try to agree with everyone else? Completely unconsciously. A smile. It always arouses our interest and curiosity. Why is this person cheerful? I want to be in a good mood too. Make me laugh too. Tell me a funny story, preferably. Preferably a meeting of two people from different worlds. Such contrasts always bring a smile.
"Where did I end up?" – a moment of reflection. “Oh… I remember now. So, the party is in full swing. Suddenly, everyone hears that someone in the next room opens the window and enters. A stranger enters the room. Everyone freezes. A thief? Someone asks. No… But no, there are lights on everywhere, everywhere, throughout the entire apartment. Music is playing. No sane thief would rob a house where someone is. So maybe he's not sane? The question is asked. A moment later, some guy enters the room with a half-empty bottle of vodka, asking if he's in the right place. Everyone looks at him in astonishment; he calmly waits for an answer. He says he's looking for Chudy. He invited him to the party. But since it was far away, he whiled away the journey with a refreshing drink. The night quickly caught up with him. And as soon as he saw the light and heard the music, he thought this was the house and without a second thought, he entered. Through the window, no longer wanting to look for the door. Nobody here knows any Chudy, though.
"You have to know him," he says to the still-surprised crowd. "He's a really down-to-earth and cool guy. You can always count on him." The surprise is still on everyone's faces. "I don't believe it, and I can see you don't understand any of this either. But it's simple. Nothing should ruin tonight for us. And I remember it was daytime just a short while ago. Very recently. Yes. So, I'm saying..." he tries to recall a detail. He's having a hard time. "I'm here by invitation. Chudy, man! I always get lost somewhere. He's not here yet, I'm here. I'm already losing track of hours and days. You understand. The school year is fast approaching, it's a mess. I don't want to. I don't like it. I can't. Constantly sitting at one desk. Listening. Not for me.
" "School isn't that bad. I like it, for one thing," someone from the crowd finally says, trying to strike up a conversation.
"I don't believe it! How can anyone think that?
" "Look at it from the other side." You'll remember every day. You won't lose anything anymore. Isn't that nice?
"Somewhere out there, maybe you're right…
People are slowly starting to accept the situation. The person who just showed up caused quite a stir. But after a while, he's accepted, and most people return to the dance floor to dance to the sounds of a calm ballad. Some are still participating in the discussion.
Suddenly, he stands abruptly.
"This can't be. What kind of music? I feel sick. Where's the rock 'n' roll? Where's the sound? It just so happens I have something you might be interested in. Moscow."
The faces of the people once again express astonishment. No one knows anything. He approaches the stereo, switching off the recording currently in progress. He inserts his cassette and presses the PLAY button. And his recording plays. Completely oblivious to the others, he begins jumping around the room in his mad pogo. Everyone is astonished, having never seen anything like it. During the chorus, he screams along with the lead singer of the now-legendary punk band. After a moment, the song ends, and he sits exhausted on the ground, catching his breath.
"What was that supposed to be?" someone asks awkwardly.
"You're probably surprised?
" "Something like that.
" "Everyone has a different idea of a good time. For you, it's sounds that soothe you, and for me, sounds that captivate me. You probably don't remember the old days...
Jarocin used to be. A city – a legend. The biggest and most astonishing punk band show. The biggest gathering of all kinds of people. Mostly outsiders who could get lost there and then find their way in that huge crowd." Everyone had the right to their own opinions, everyone had the right to hear other opinions. No one tried to forbid anything there. It didn't make much sense, anyway. And the whole time, there was music, music that invited people to have fun, that forced them to think, that made people realize who they were and what they were capable of. And that enormous tent, where several people were constantly playing drums, despite the concert, the bands performing. I enter the tent, go to the first empty drum, and join in. Together we tap out a rhythm that instantly captivates me, and I forget about the entire concert unfolding around me. Someone passes me a pipe. I take one drag, two drags, three drags… Light floods my brain. Suddenly, I see the earth, then space, the entire universe, but nothing is round; everything is made of rectangles. That's the shape. But at the same time, I feel a great sadness. The tragedy of the proto-angles. We all live in the grain. We search for each other, but in this thicket, it's hard to find anything. Even if he and she are found, they do it quickly, and he runs off, leaving her alone. The search continues uninterrupted. And they remain lonely, unable to stop us in any way. The tragedy continues. And everywhere I see protocols, a tragedy.
Suddenly, someone wakes me, offering me water, which I drink greedily. It dawns on me that this is the end of my vision. I leave the tent and return to my own. During the journey, I think about my visions, in which I glimpsed something that had been hidden until now…
"Where can I lie down? I feel I need to rest for a while."
Someone shows him a room and a bed. He lies down and falls asleep. Every now and then, someone checks on him, checking if he's causing trouble. The next time he visits, he's gone, only the window is open. The same one he entered through. Everyone is astonished by the whole event.
"What a fascinating story, who could that man be? Is that you?
" "No, why?" I reply.
- That's what we thought. And they never found out who he was?
- No. Never. - a moment of reflection - An extraordinary story. I'm thinking, we could write a short story about it. Yes... I'll think about it.
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