U’altra notte di sogni opachi, tempo rallentato di un terzo, attese, abbandoni.

Se nn avessi mai sofferto di insonnia, mia compagna di infanzia, sarei una persona molto diversa. A volte provo ad immaginarmi, serena ed equilibrata, quell’altra io che non e’ mai nata, o e’ sbocciata senza fiorire.

Penso a tutti i libri che ho letto, alle mie esperienze oniriche, alla paura della noia durante la veglia… Penso al terrore silenzioso, ai luoghi immateriali in cui torno e continuo a tornare da anni, alla memoria che ho in dimensioni altre. Ricordo la donna in viola, le citta’ collage dal cielo blu elettrico, le montagne marroni e la ferrovia in mezzo al mare.

Ora vivo in cima ad un palazzo piuttosto antico, pieno di simboli e triangoli. Dalle finestre vedo i tetti che nessuno vede, strane cupole e torri, luoghi di culto non ufficiali, un’Amsterdam segreta e sommersa. 

Gli uccelli della citta’ si lavano, al mattino, di fronte al mio davanzale. Forse questo mi aiutera’ ad imparare a volare.

A volte la sensazione di aver perso una parentesi prende il sopravvento.

Che sia noia, o paranoia, poco cambia. Entro un loop, tutto continua a girare. Si puo’ sopravvivere girando. Si puo’ sopravvivere con il solo movimento, non e’ necessario l’accumulo. Anche la testa gira. Prosegue all’infinito:

for (;;)

Mi sorprendo spesso a pensare che le ‘cose’, alcune cose – fatti – persone – situazioni, possano durare all’infinito. Mi guardo intorno, e riconosco e discerno l’instabilita’ insita nelle costellazioni e ambienti che mi circondano. Cerco qualcosa di consistente. Decido di studiare il linguaggio C, perche’ ha una storia di circa 30 anni, come me. Saremo consistenti assieme? Chissa’. Qualcuno lo paragona al greco, questione di classicismo, antichita’. Io sussumo righe di codice convinta di poterle applicare alla realta’. E’ ovvio, deve per forza funzionare. Nel greco antico la costruzione logica della frase si basa spesso sul ‘men’ … ‘de’, ovvero ‘da una parte’….’dall’altra’, il che non e’ proprio un se/allora, quanto piuttosto un discorso di possibilita’ concomitanti, diverse sfaccettature, prospettive e angolazioni. Contemporaneita’. La programmazione e’ processuale, tenta di prevedere ogni possibilita’, ma l’esecuzione comporta una scelta esclusiva. Ogni programma ha un inizio, un risultato, ed una fine. La continuita’ e’ un ciclo, dal quale e’ possibile uscire, con un semplice, ma chiaro:

break;

Per imparare e’ necessario mettersi in gioco, concedere a se’ stessi la possibilita’ di cambiare, compiere un viaggio esplorativo in un contesto anche statico.

Ogni nuova disciplina, o nozione, contiene all’interno un piccolo Graal, ambito e nascosto. Il Graal e’ quella porzione di conoscenza dal pattern universale, traducibile in infiniti contesti.

Si torna all’infinito. 

Il Chequepoint e’ finalmente, nuovamente, online. Tralascio le peripezie, gli incantesimi ed i sotterfugi. Gioisco. Mi inchino di fronte all’hacker dei telefoni che quest’oggi e’ venuto a trovarmi in tenuta da sommossa. Ripenso con volutta’ al quadro di comando, alle 45 possibilita’, ai due cavi del telefono che il principe della telefonia muoveva sotto i miei occhi colmi di ammirazione. Ho un debole per gli hackers, mi eccitano. Non posso farci nulla, e’ cosi’, e li riconosco ad occhi chiusi.

"Non dire nulla…

…my heart is almost exploding!"

"Chiamami quando vuoi…" 

Ci puoi contare caro, certe cose io non le dimentico. Imparo, condivido, e ripongo il mio maestro nel cuore, per sempre. Sempre??

Ahi, ahi… "Xname, be quite!"

Una illuminazione mi e’ giunta da un uomo-voce-umana, a fatica raggiunto dopo ore di pseudo colloquio con una voce registrata, dalla compagnia internet-provider-dell-olanda (eravamo-fichi-ma-abbiamo-fatto-i-soldi-ora-tu-paghi-e-suchi // chi capisce a chi mi riferisco vince un premio). Dico: "Ah grazie, quante belle cose mi date, ma quanto durano? Dico, ok, se l’abbonamento finisce, posso continuare ad utilizzare, chesso’, le mail, oppure…"

L’uomo diventa quasi robotico, come i suoi colleghi fatti di pitch.

"Tutto dura finche’ uno paga."

Mi scuso, umiliata dalla mia ingenuita’. La butto sul personale "Tendo a credere ci siano… mmm, tendo a credere esista l’eterno, almeno nel servizio mail…" Per non parlare di altre cosette altrettanto, o piu’, delicate… Cerco di fargli capire al volo che ho avuto qualche trauma da bambina, dunque ho in testa idee bizzarre, che girano spesso in loop.

Incasso, e porto a casa. Faccio un respiro profondo, mi sento, improvvisamente, osservata.  Sono, tra ‘parentesi’, al lavoro, in un laboratorio di arte e informatica (?!).

La lezione e’ semplice, e la ripasso pedalando verso casa: l’infinito esiste, c’e’, ma costa, costa molto, e lo paghi caro tutta la vita.

Some days ago, i visited a friend out of Amsterdam to work together on a project. The idea was to spend few days there asking him to accomplish the following mission: saving myself from myself. I thought it was a hard job. When i got there, i was fevering.

It is night. Someone invites us for a jazz concert. I can rattle on the chair, but no more. I tell him to go, i am fine, bla bla, i am happy to wait. He goes.

As soon as he is out, i see some of my cardinals monsters walking around the house, talking to me from the ceiling. I am still on the same chair, by now almost attached to it. I imagine he will find me exactly there, when back.

At a certain point i get distracted. My computer is looking at me. Don’t take me wrong, don’t think i am maniac, but i suddenly felt a bit excited, and the monsters started slowly to zoom out.

I jump on the machine, enter in Second Life…
Mi faccio un giro.

I am running around naked with socks and hat and gloves, how i like it. In Second Life you can fly and  teleport. I decide to fly.

I get to a place quite chic and yuppie, someone tells me avatars without clothes are not welcome there. I tell him a am a newbie, and i like to be naked, but also that i am quite excited, so i was wondering whether and how it is  possible to get some sex there, and how it works. He answers me i am in the wrong place, but there are hot zones in Second Life. I get dressed and look for a quite place to make a picture of myself. You normally see your avatar’s back, and the others are seeing your front.

It is a strange world i am in.

I play with its limits…

I finally get to a crowded place, a group of horny people is gathering. I try to talk to them. They do not seem disturbed. Everybody else i met, i proposed some cybersex, but no one accepted. Most of the people thought i was a man. Ahah, i can see that from the dirty things you say. Sob! I wish you could see me dude. Everybody is making business here. I wanted to have sex. Is this that strange? Some other people ask me if i wanted to have money for that. Noo, i just want to have fun with you. Is that so rare? I want you to enjoy me. Noway. People do not trust things for free.

Finally i am surrounded by a hot bounce of people. I start talking to them, and i manage to intrigue an avatar, the macho wearing a white shirt you can see on the picture below. We talk a bit, about various topics (it looks like we both need a certain emotional ingredient to get horny). He is interested in some sexual behavior, but, like me, he does not know how to do that. One thing is clear to him: if we have to do something, that has to happen in a more intimate environment. We walk away.  

I start immediately provoking him with any kind of crazy fantasy that comes to my mind, following the right pattern. He gets into the game and makes his part. The funny thing is that: it is a textual, imaginative sexual experience. The avatars, when we talk, which is a chat talk, are there standing and digitizing, while, when you are in the game, balloons with your words are appearing over your head. These balloons are not there when you make a still from inside the game. Every avatar around can see the words. I say that to specify we are actually at the climax of a fuck in the quite picture you can see here.

We enjoy this mental trip while various people around start looking and us. At a certain point a spanish boy comes around. I tell him not to disturb, we are having sex, but if he wants to help out…

At this point my partner, i do not say his name for privacy reasons, stops everything. I cannot do that, he says. If it was with two women, that would be another story, but with a man, i am sorry, i cannot.
Come on, let it go, we are in virtual life…

Nothing to do, his dogma is very strong. We continue alone. When we are both satisfied, i am about to teleport away, but i spend some time in a friendly conversation post-coitus with him. And here i understand it was not a game, it was not a second life. The man i just had lives in Belgium, speaks dutch, and, especially, he is a software programmer. 

I run away. Always the same stories. With all the people that are in this second world, look at what is happening to me! While teleporting, someone gifts me a dollar! Oh my God… This is the first time i earn some money with sex! Bizarre… i wonder whether i should call my mum… Mm, no, i will not tell her i got payed by someone for a sexual text performance, not now.

After a few minutes, he contacts me again, teleporting me to a very sexual area.  He found some plugins, to have sex in a more visual way. The game infact is evocative, the ambient is not realistic. That was what i like, the brain power instead of the projection.

I am not anymore in the mood, actually i am now concern about my karma and the coincidence of attracting the same type of person i do in real life.

I was actually willing to have anyone, so it must be their problem, if they get magnetized by me. But i am not sure.

Finally my friend comes back, while i am starting a new session of sex with my developer, just because it is a new story and i do not feel like saying NO. I try out a couple of sentences in dutch, to be funny. Here in these pictures you can see some plugins in action.

My attention is stolen by this material person entering the door, my computer, exhausted crashes, and i leave there my new lover fucking alone the ghost of my avatar.

The day after, in the morning, i find two messages from him in my mailbox. Here is an abstract from the second:

Hi Elanor, I guess this is a check to find out if I am real, guess what, I 
 am ;o) Hey I loved our conversation the other day, pity though that you left while we were in  full action, hope to see you again soon 

and, the day after, the third:
Hi Elanor, I am just checking what this does, and if it possibly would work,
 so how are you?