Somebody about Something
It was a deserted cottage in a remote place I happened to find myself in one day in autumn. A very old lady opened the door and said: Thanks God you have finally come. Son: before I die you have got to find somebody about something. I asked: Who about what? She said: This is your job not mine. If you knew you wouldn’t look for it. Please go now before it is too late. I left but my mind lost its peace and quiet from that moment on. My odyssey of non-stop thinking and restlessness started. I turned to a ruminant animal.

I knew thinking made me human but it became a brutal dictator, a monster. It enslaved me, robbed me of sleep. It started working to find somebody about something. Look, my mind thought: somebody is a body, a human body. Of course I knew I was not only a mind. But I think she didn’t mean my own body. What I had to find now was somebody else’s body for my mind sold my body into slavery. My soul had to do the job now. But it waited although my body cried for help: Wait till you find somebody. I waited and saw many. I stretched my hands to touch those I thought the old lady meant. No, some of them pulled back and some other’s skin wrinkled. I wanted to give up but my mind ordered: Go on.

But even if I found somebody how could I find something? A thing could be anything or nothing. Look, my mind thought: you want everything. Go and take it otherwise nothing would be left. I went everywhere and bought as much as I could afford until my house was jam-packed in the hope I find that something the old lady meant. But then when my enthusiasm waned my body rebelled: I am tired of slaving over finding somebody about something.

I haven’t still given up for I think there is hope to find somebody about something. Somebody could appear and say something. After all something is not something I need to possess. Perhaps it is something I desperately need to know. The old lady wouldn’t have opened the door if she hadn’t believed.

Written in a moment of utmost desperation
Bremen, 20 April 2008