Friday, 3 February 2012

huge fluffy fungus

Initially I was with friends designing reindeer. I didn't know if I should make them to be presented from above or from a frontal view point. At that point I also started treating the subject as a three-dimensional object and as a drawing at the same time.

Then, through a complete change of scenery, I found my self at a student's dormitory that was partly a squat. As I was about to walk to my room a big girl stopped me and informed me that we were being invaded by skinheads. She also told me it was not the first time and that the only way to save ourselves from getting beaten was to escape through the top floors to the nearby mountains. My room was at the top floor and we rushed there, collected a few things for the night and got out through the window.

It was tricky to climb up the trees that lead to the mountain top. A funny mountain it was because it felt all fluffy and soft, like a very large fungus. We were crawling on all fours on it and as the wind blew it moved and I saw inside the cracks that opened on its surface. I saw my old duvet in there. We kept crawling until we reached a spot from where we could see our building. We hoped they couldn't see us. Soon the enemies reached my room. I saw them though the window. One of them saw us too and asked how many we were. The girl responded that it was just the two of us. I had hidden underneath a bulgy, colourful sombrero I found in my back pack. The guy asked if I was Mexican. I got rid of the hat because apparently it turned me into a target. We camped there and heard the reports of the victims in the buildings. Most of them were the invaders that had assaulted each other. I told them that they were a disgrace to the rest of the punks and that they had turned a squat into a massacre.

Morning came and I pooped in the middle of a green carpet we had to create soap. Subsequently I took a very big bar of green soap that I had wrapped in oil-paper and put in my bag, sliced it and hid the poop in there. I asked the girl if there was no other way from the mountain to the city apart from my window. Her answer was negative. She told me that if we moved further we might meet more people that have escaped the building. We walked further down the mountain and reached some bookshelves with my books. I was very happy that they had been salvaged but there were also a bunch of posh lads that had borrowed a few for the night. I was not happy at all about this. I saw my Discworld volumes and caressed them lovingly. Dark was starting to fall again and I decided to take a stroll at that part of the town. I had never been there before. As I got off the fungus mountain I found myself on a narrow street with tall brick walls on either side. It looked mystified.

The alarm went off and I woke up.

I went back to sleep and this time I was at the top again, in a rather spacious tent and P.was there too. He had a desk by the window through which we could observe the mayhem. We heard noise as if somebody was approaching. I hid in my sleeping-bag and kept quiet. Then I started wondering how we hoped to be hidden and lay low in that mansion-size tent. I accepted it as a convention.

P. was awake, listening to music. I also woke up. I had a sip from a cup of luke-warm cocoa he had left beside me. Good-morning would have to wait.

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