NEEDLEWRITER

Scenes streamed through a few hours of the movie. My mind blown already by the bothers of my own life. And all the strife in it – about me and the otherness. By the time of the end I realised I caught only few scenes in the movie. The real happenings were mostly unknown to me. It was real – I knew now, that I had a problem. With the screen. Too narrow the frame for my soaring mind. So I decided for something else completely. To hunt scenes otherwise. Outside the frame – and let them, botherers bear the shame. Lame?! No. So I found out a lot about this fictive, illusionary world I live in, bearing the blame of simply being alive. Poor me, hadn’t I discovered how to move the charge away. And so I did. Discovery, have I told you, was time. They were running out of time – the blamers of others. simply those whos reality was healed by sadism imposed on others. Pass on the guilt and whatever else as a trauma – in which most sadist don’t believe, simply because it’s their power and pride and means of ruling others out and ruling over them. That was scene one – wasn’t it?
BOOM!
But what about this passing on is so interesting – end of the trauma passer, the poor guy thought his victims would suffer and not be freed – because after the death of the victim or the victimiser one can only feel chatarsis – isn’t that so? The problem is the victimiser thinks they are a necessary part of the victims life like food, or water or air. The disappearence of the victimiser psychosomaticaly can only release the victim fully. Unless the poor victim does the victimising further on other people too. Poor, me I shamely have no money to do that, the victimising I mean.
BOOM!
But what a lovely scene it is, sitting on the balcony with a lit pipe or a cigarettee, it’s late summer, starting to get colder, some summer breeze and thinking while watching the birds fly in groups doing their crazy air dances – what a concusion of the world – and what the fuck is really going on ?
BOOM?!