23 mar 2021
Catus
… and he asked me if he could interview me and I said, Yes, but it had to be in the city where I was at the time, and he said, Okay, give me some time to get the funds together, and I said, Fine, get back in touch when you have them, and he said, Fine, and asked me where I was and I said, Not far, probably closer than you think, and gave him the address, and he said, That’s just down the street, and I said, Why don’t you just come down and do the interview right now?, and he said, Okay, and was there in a few minutes and said, Well, that was a lot easier than I thought, and I said, Sometimes things are easier than what we think, and he said, Yeah, and I asked him what he wanted to talk about, and he said, Well, it’s kind of difficult, seeing as how I’m not all that prepared, and I said, Sometimes being prepared isn’t all that important, and he said, Well, yeah, I guess so, and I said, The subject and the object are sometimes difficult to ascertain, that they sometimes like to change places, that they become one another, so you don’t know which is which, but that it didn’t make all that much difference, and that preparation was sometimes a false trail, a kind of a priori that skews things unnecessarily, that changes things in such a way as to give a false impression where the object becomes the subject and the subject becomes the object, but that’s the way things go sometimes, and sometimes that’s all to the better in that changing places is better than establishing borders, that not knowing where the lines of demarcation are is easier than acknowledging them, that the entire business of subject and object is a kind of trap into which we fall, that subject and object are, in the end, inter-changeable and have to do with why we’re here in the first place, given that I’m the subject, but also the object, of this interview, and that you have an object in mind which is also the subject of what you want to talk about, so we can, in a way, do away with a lot of the formalities of an interview and …
And that’s where I woke up. I have dreams like this more and more often, as if I’m reading a text and the text sometimes runs by too quickly or fades out slightly so I can’t read it or repeats itself for pages and pages as if asking me to find some hidden meaning. This one woke me up enough to actually get out of bed and write down what I remembered of it.
Does anyone out there have any ideas? Or are dreams just disposable?
Note. The written format of this text I owe to José Saramago.
Once. Again. 