A fuckin' Day


- What a fuckin’ day!
- always thinking negative, you!
- you piss me of with your fuckin’ positive thinking… a fuckin’ shitty day is a fuckin’ shitty day, and stop!
- you’re bringing us the bad luck speaking like this, don’t you know? Didn’t you watch “The secret”?
-  what “secret”? I only know that today in this fuckin’ market no one is selling anything
- always complaining, always saying that it was better before, and right now everybody’s ready to take it in the ass, loss for loss,  “die Samson with all of the Philistines”
- Let in peace Samson and the Bible, you! And the Palestinians and the kamikazes! It would be good to have an explosive belt right now… or to win the lottery
- we have to work today! We have to sell! It’s enough for us to declare that it will be a good sale! Focalize, visualize in every detail what you’re going to sell,  and you’ll see!

- you’re completely crazy! If there are no people there are no people! And if the very few that are around don’t have a fuckin’ penny in their fuckin’ pockets…
- look there already exists a lady who will buy, and a lot, from me! I see her in my mind…
- very good, you see ghosts! you could work as a psychic! I see only a fuckin’ pitiless sun, a heat directly from hell, and I’m so fuckin’ tired, and no one who stops by my fuckin’ place

- then… why did you come?
- that’s it! That’s the real question! The first intelligent thing you’ve said today, exactly what I should ask myself … but… do you know?
- what?
- I’m here ‘cause the author put me here…
- the author? And who’s he… God?
- which god? Don’t be blasphemous… the author, the one who is writing this story. I am a character, nothing else, and it’s thanks to this that I exist otherwise who knows where I would be, or better said where I wouldn’t be…

- And so? We have to participate; behave so that this story will be a useful one, to make the people understand…
- make the people understand… what? Oh! Who do you fuckin’ think you are? We are extras… “…a poor player/ That struts and frets his hour upon the stage/And then is heard no more...” the Poet says
- but 400 years have passed since that poet of yours wrote that
- and so what? Poetry is immortal!
- again?

- don’t change the topic, you… prodigal son, the author is the one giving the message; not us! Let’s only hope he will not have us die right here and now... may be with a hijacked airplane crashin’ just over our fuckin’ heads... at least then our death would be worth something…
- and now you even want to die, when a moment ago you would live and win the lottery… and now you’re putting your entire life in the hands of the author. We, we the characters, we are not only actors, mere extras like you say, we are the Protagonists! We are in charge of our lives, we give them purpose by untwisting this confused and tangled web in the author’s head We are the news, the speed-up… is it true? … is it true, author?
Author: - who? … me?
- yes, yes you, please stop hiding behind your keyboard and answer my question: is it true that we have autonomy?
Author: - actually… you two are running free… and quiet wildly at that
- you see? We are co-creators of our world!
- but if it is a world of fiction! just a page in a fuckin’ story, at least then  somebody could wipe his ass with a fuckin’ page… now we’re just a Word file
- again with your praise of the past! But do you know that we are part of the world wide web? all these computers are connected, and we’re surfing the hyperspace, the ether, the very element of the age of Aquarius
- but if he decides to have me die, or writes the word “End”, or, even worse, presses the damned “Delete” key? then what? “Out, out, brief candle!”
- I’m thinking that tonight, or tomorrow if I’m too tired, I’ll write a tale, too, so even if he puts me out as a character I’ll survive as an author… I’ll create another world… the universe is infinite, and we can always create more worlds, “pocket universes” as the sci-fi master said
- then I’ll write a tale of horror, a fuckin’ shitty day from start to finish, pure shit like today, where the author will never find a publisher, and the publisher will go bankrupt, and the petty people will use the pages of the books to light bar-b-q instead of read them
- I suppose such a book has already been written…
- and who fuckin’ cares? Everything they wrote, everything has already been written, said, performed, again and again… but if, as you say, it’s only an excuse, a trick, a means to survive… or appear?
- it may be that all the Creation is a trick, a genial holy trick, a Masterpiece
- this is for sure, look… anyway, you gave me an idea: I don’t want to come to work again, better I write horror
- again with the horror, you! But didn’t you understand that if we’re here to co-create…let’s create a better world, a nice one…
- and what about the monsters? The monsters who are all around…
- the monsters evolve, get better
- yes… and while evolving… they’ll eat us
- how can they eat us if in my story there are no monsters?
- don’t you see? You’re a fuckin’ nazi with your compulsive positive thinking, you want to have the poor monsters deleted, you took away their right to live… genocide!!!
- now genocide! and nazi you tell me, too, just for being guilty of dreaming a better world, a story with a happy ending
- more or less… do you know what? I’ll write a good horror story ‘n’ put all the fuckin’ monsters into it, so they can live but won’t be fucking around here!
- this a good point! I’m starting to like you
- oh, you like me now! fuck off! you talk and talk and here we sell nothing! Really a fuckin’ shitty day! Do you know what? From tomorrow on  won’t be coming to work in the market any more, I’ll write horror starting early in the morning… at least I’ll have fun… good idea: this fuckin’ day was worth something!
Author: - stop fighting, you two, yes? …then I can go to swim into the ocean





Rodolfo de Matteis, 2nd of July 2010