To X. Something
I have borrowed Saint Exupéry’s dedication “I ask the indulgence of the children who may read this book for dedicating it to an unpleasant grown-up. I have a serious reason: he is the best enemy I have in the world. I have another reason: this unpleasant grown-up can all burn, even books about children. I have a third reason: he lives in Babel where he is hungry and thirsty. He needs to be denounced all over the country. If all these reasons are not enough, I will dedicate the book to the child from whom this unpleasant grown-up. All unpleasant grown-ups were once children — although few of them remember it. And so I correct my dedication:
To X. Something
when he was a little boy”

CHAPTER -1

Salem leaves the shade.
Uncle Sami plays the piano.
Samara laughs do re mi fa … do me a favour Salem, come and dance!

I can hear her laughing.
She’s still just a child. Samara laughs non-stop. There isn’t enough air in here. She lets out a cry but where does this noise come from?
Her face changed. The words stuck in her throat.
Salem smiled oddly.
– What’s wrong?
– I feel awkward in his presence. What’s his name?
– Sami Something…!
All I ask for is to be left alone. It’s getting dark. Ear-splitting sounds. What’s all that noise.
She talks to herself – he has the instinct for games! He spoils himself. I hate him.
I shook her hand –everybody knows him. He likes background noise while he’s working. By the way, have you read this book? As I was saying: “the bottom line is that he is not suited for the job, but…”.You, of all people, Samara, should understand. He is but a strange individual, a unicorn, a wolf in a sheep’s clothing! Uncle Sami will stop at nothing. There’s something about him I don’t like
– Don’t say another word, please!
It promises to be hot. These plants don’t like fire.
“See you soon,” she said.
– Ok Samara! Close the door after you!
CHAPTER-2

The next day… but where’s Samara?
She’s in the upper-floor. I know, Ufo, but why does she take so long? It upsets me to see her in a heart-rending state.
A climate of insecurity has taken hold of the country, since this morning. It’s terribly hot.
Samara hasn’t arrived yet. Where can she be? Let me tell you, dear Ufo, I’m afraid when she’s late like that. She’s not the sort to be late. There’s something wrong somewhere.
– Knock knock! Open the door Samara, that’s me!
She’s not in her room. A tomblike silence.
There’s no sign of life in the house. Sadness pervades in this house.
It seems stupid to me to wait any longer without doing anything.
– But what’s happening?
I like her. I like this little princess of Babel. People like her. She’s not only noted for her beauty but she’s also so kind. She’s intelligent and beautiful.
She’s very advanced for her age. But Uncle Sami, as for him, he is a bad singer. He’s the one behind it all.
– Are you serious? Ufo said.
– I think so.
Is Samira around?
There were posters on the walls but there was no one around. No one except Sami and a sandstorm around the Hanging Gardens of Babel.
Time seemed to have frozen. Once again, my head is spinning.
– Whose gloves are these?
CHAPTER-3

The explosion was heard right across the city.
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The sun sets early.
CHAPTER-4

What a day!
My friends, I don’t see them any more. We’re being followed, Ufo!
It’s the calm before the storm.
Ok! A bit of sport is relaxing. Time bomb. Acid rain. A veil of smoke. The trees are shedding their leaves.
Uncle Sami can apologize as much as he likes, but I won’t forgive him. This is where we go our separate ways. I don’t take orders from you, Uncle Sami! I know he’s strange but to say he’s mad…
(Salem and Samara, they promised each other they would never part, but…)
“To come back to Babel, is the very least you can do for her,” said Ufo. “It’s now or never. She will assume effective control of the planet.”
– You’re right, Ufo! Babel, that’s where I live, “I’m very happy in Babel!” Samara herself told me so. I miss her, but which way did she go? That’s what we call a labyrinth, a film full of meaningful silences.
The only interesting thing in this film is the fall of the Statue of Sugar.
I’ve heard a lot about you, Mr Know-it-all, but you should think of others! For me, to become a president of the republic or an emperor! .... Do re mi! .... is but amateurish work!
Uncle Sami, to what lengths will he go? He, too, plays hide-and-seek in the name of the law.
Have you heard the news Salem?
“Pollution is expected to increase from now on,” said Ufo.
– One move and I’ll shoot I’m the one who makes the decisions! It’s easy to criticize, isn’t it? I can swim. But where did you come out from?
He’s got a red nose. His stout figure shields an inbred.
– Really? Ok! I don’t mean to criticize, but... I’m sorry! Backwards! Too bad, Mr Know-it-all! Come on, everybody out!
Goodbye. You’ve got your whole life ahead of you: do re mi! But there’s a button missing from your jacket
The wall hides obscures our view.
Mr. Know-it-all, full of oneself, he thinks he knows everything.
To go down in history or to become a legend, you just have to press on the nose.
Goodbye Mr. Know-it-all, goodbye Uncle Sami! They both don’t know what they’re doing, It’s like the blind leading the blind. They can’t stand each other any more. They’re both almost dead.
I’m on chapter 5. How far are from the end? It’s 1001 kilometres away.
Very good! This route takes us away from the town centre.
Ufo laughs:
– Listen carefully! Who is coming with us?
All flowers, girls and boys, nodded and said “Oh, yes!”
The butterfly nodded and smiled
The donkey began to bray: ok!
The cat began to mew: ok!
The horse began to neigh: ok!
The duck began to quack: ok!
The stag began to bell: ok!
The dog began to bark: ok!
The elephant began to trumpet: ok!
The frog began to croak: ok!
The lioness began to roar: ok!
The swallow began to twitter: ok!
The wolf began to howl: ok
The sheep began to bleat: ok!
The bird began to sing: ok!
The hen began to cluck: ok!
The snake began to hiss: ok!
The cow began to moo: moo! Ok!
The devil only began to cry: and what about me, forgotten me? Well, I’m not saying no, but…
Be it for the interested people or the fighting cocks, they all shelter behind the Statue of Liberty, not far from the Triumphal Arch.
CHAPTER-5

Outside, there is nothing. It’s full of fighting cocks. It’s … a carnival mask! A starless sky! City in arms. The movie is supposed to be very good but the movie is inappropriate for children in their age, there’s too much violence in it.
The others are way behind something of life or death. Such is life!
Cause for dispute: the post-Gorbatchev era or when I’m gone, I don’t care what happens! Nonsense is the absolute truth.
If I were them, I’d be careful, but…
There are various possible solutions, but…
I’ve got billions of things to do, but…
I came as fast as I could, but… it’s beyond me.
I don’t like myself in this jacket.
Everywhere you look there is poverty.
Suppose we change the subject?
“Never!” he exclaimed. There’s always something to keep you busy.
Outside,a walled up town, under pain of death. The essential points are buried in too many details. The vase is overflowing. The countryside flashed past with an endless stream of trooping soldiers. To play with fire. A call to arms.
A few metres away, on every street corner, thousands of children die. People of all ages
are dropping like flies. War crimes. The law of the jungle. The collective unconsciousness. I feel so depressed...
They can’t help wrangling with one another. Can any of them speak “Love” and only “LOVE”?
There are a few pages missing. There’s a missing button from my jacket. I hate myself in this jacket.
CHAPTER-6

The soldiers destroyed everything in their path.
I stuffed myself with so much food that I felt sick . I can’t keep my food down, today.
What’s to drink ?
Take that cup! Fruit cocktail or Molotov cocktail?
You’re joking or what? It’s no time to joke, dear friend Elephant!
I’d prefer tea, a bit of fresh water, or just go for another cup of tea! It’s a thirst-quenching drink.
Open the window, please! I’d like a good breath of fresh air.
– There’s quite an art to shun death!
Uncle Sami, oh! He just carries out orders but he thinks only of himself. He’s got an oil slick of his own, somewhere you’ve never been before.
Neither has Mr Know-it-all.
I know what I’m talking about.
Uncle Sami! He and his fellows, will cause my death
I can understand their grandfather but not them, to play the hero but how far? That’s strange!
The Gulf War, this phoney war, I’ve never seen the like of it. That’s that!
CHAPTER-7

I can see him coming. That Travolta haircut makes his face look round. He’s looking for someone to play with. Mr Know-it-all is well placed to play with.
– Here he is.
– Who?
– After all, his name means nothing to me. Uncle Sami, he’s but a passenger like the others. By the way, to be a cowboy as he is, it’s his absolute right. Anyone commit a mistake but to stab to death a bird that sings ,in the town centre, quite openly and publicly, it's unforgivable!
Some late news: things started happening quickly…
I can see him coming. International anthem. He raised his glass and everyone did the same.
Men and women. Everyone’s going to do the washing-up, and you’re no exception.
The witnesses all bear each other out.
They have similar interests.
Just imagine him with children! A highly cultured man like him. Waxwork.
- One moment His Majesty! Don’t use people’s towels, it’s not hygienic.
From what I can see Uncle Sami, treats everybody the same regardless of race or colour. Ha! Ha!
But he can’t stand being contradicted.
He has a mass of friends but he’s not being himself today. Move along now, there’s nothing to see!
But who threw this shoe? Whose is it? I saw Uncle Sami with my own eyes. I saw him fall like Baghdad and running to get out of.
A deadly silence. Curtain!
At the gateway to the desert, a palm tree fell. Flying Shoes.
CHAPTER-8

Day follows day and you never know what to expect.
The sun’s breaking trough the clouds. Another flag undulates, shamelessly, right in the middle of the city.
Once upon a time there was a tsunami! DO RE MI!
Once upon a time there was a cowboy named Sami Something …
Once upon a time there was Mr Know-it-all named Salem Something
But if you had to do it again… said Ufo!
A smile flickers over his lips.
From now on, it’s me. Ufo, the unicorn of this planet, I am and I will be the one who makes decisions. At home and abroad, I’m myself. I can’t be in two places at once. I may not be as rich Uncle Sami is but…with this multipurpose horn, I feel the floor tremble. But I’ll just have to put up with it.
Who am I, in the end?
Well! I’m one of the biggest, if not THE BIGGEST.
or if you want too, I’m one of the smallest, if not THE SMALLEST
Stay where you are dears friends, orphans of the map!!
There are still a lot of things to be done. it is my duty to tell you.
This is strictly between us! Ok?
Our strategy now, here, within our Hanging Gardens, reads as follows:
- There’s no time to waste.
- We’re going to jump straight to page 1000 of a future within reach.
- To love without losing your compass, nothing could be simpler
- Lovingly, to make oneself useful without anyone knowing.
- To help the sun shine differently, for everyone
- To have the makings of a statesman, practising the policy of an almost perfect family, small but great like a body without complexes.
- To have an artistic temperament and to do what’s necessary without uttering a single complaint against nature.
- To be modest while maintaining the prestige hanging between the earth and the sky.
- To enter into negotiations on a life full of nuances and to negotiate it with anyone, with a smile on one’s lips.
- To divorce the ghost of poverty. The key is somewhere you’ve never been before.
While doing so, we’ll have to wait and see.
What counts is that we are there. That’s the secret.
And to begin with, I must tell you there are eight gates to go through, here and now.
So, do you understand?
CHAPTER-9

His eyes met mine. He smiled weakly.
The gateway to spring, over there, I told him. What’s it about? We’ve got to hurry! There’s no time to waste.
“But what happened there?” asked the gardener
“Don’t ask me!” replied the child, “I’ve no satisfactory answer, because I wasn’t there; furthermore, I don’t want to know.
He’s but a child of fifteen, timid at heart.
One day, he decided to desert home.
- People thought him to be mad-
With a book in his hand, he let himself be guided by his intuition. Nothing will stop him.
The gateway of spring leads to a garden 10 hectares large. This garden is but a heavenly labyrinth on the ground.
The further south you go, the longer the day gets. No night. Sublime!
Wellwell used to conjugate his gestures, dancing and singing, in the present but, at the same time, he leaves the verbs of the five senses as they are. A pause. What time is it? Time freezes. That’s why one verb follows another verb in the infinitive.
I feel like a new person, said Alex, and here I am. Again. I’m curious to see things as they are. I’m curious to stumble over and against, to jump from a standing position with joined hands, to run up or run down the hill planted with trees, to scour the garden for Shakespeare, to live with birds, a story with a happy ending, and growingly impelled by curiosity, I try to sow something, a dream for example, not to disturb a sleeping flower, to build a nest there, beyond all suspicion for two love birds.
Ouch! I hit my head on a wall.
The sun is setting. Nothing lasts forever, but where is the source?
I can hear a voice in the distance:
But where’s that friend of ours?
That’s my friend Ufo, He’s coming towards me.

On coming out of the garden, a child, with his shirt unbuttoned to the waist, threw stones at me.
– One moment! I’ll teach him not to start that again! I said.
– How disgraceful it is to run after him!
– What’s up?
“He’s but a naughty child,” said Ufo. “A jealous child.”
CHAPTER-10

Let’s see!
Eight wonders to discover.
Yesterday, I saw the garden of the source.
There are still seven others to see during my stay in Babel. It’s not something you see every day. Each garden hides a special holiday village.
Today, it’s the gateway of the Silk.
Who doesn’t know this gateway?
(The gardener gives Wellwell a warm welcome):
– Ahlan wa sahlan!! Welcome to the Garden of Silk!
I sneak amid the trees.
The birds continue singing: sss! This means yes sss.
This garden nestles thousands of birds.
But “never say no” here, seems a strange thing to me:
From the start, I’m not allowed to say no in this garden. Saying no is pro-hi-bi-ted!
Not a single soul of the thousands settlers here dares to say no.
Well, I’m not saying no, but…if I may say so, I can say no, at least, without speaking, I can move around the head or by the finger.
A rainbow is looming in the horizon. The colours intertwine well before the eagle’s eyes.
A dog wags its tail: welcome gentleman!
So it’s the Gateway of the silk hence this silky strange yes.
It’s so annoying! But… too bad, that’s the way it is.
Here, everyone is entitled to vote by ‘yes’ only.
“Our lion died. His death leaves an unfathomable void in all our lives,” said the gardener. The eagle is king.
No poor, no rich so no gap between rich and poor.
We have our own rules and we’re not just thinking of ourselves. Here Fruit divides into equal parts.
In brackets, we’re almost the same and in similar manner, we got dressed.
This so-called dice, we don’t need any more dices, we’ve got our own. This garden is ours
With a royal we, we talk to ourselves in a low voice. With us, do not exceed the stated dose is the road what we have to follow.

The explosion boomed all over the Global Village. The atmosphere became oppressive. Some say this and others say that. They depend on each other. But and against all logic, might is right.
“I know what happened there,” said the gardener with a sigh. These discoveries, during the Gulf War, entitle us to believe that D as in devil or D as in democracy is but a minor detail.
Incapable of cowardice, this eagle is but a dummy, he’s simply a dummy.
“I’ve got stomach cramps,” I said. “I must go.”
“Take this, his fruit juice will make you feel better, but do you have any other question?” asked the gardener, smiling.
Wellwell laughs, what a hoot! While avoiding falling into the trap. To say no here is to bid farewell to Life!
CHAPTER -11

Gateway of Hope
Wandering about, along the paths, I saw her in front of me. She walked past me without saying hello.
– This girl, God! But I know her well. I haven’t seen her ever since the war.
Wellwell takes a step towards her. The girl steps back shouting:
What do you want?
Nothing! I’m just asking you: what are you doing here?
She pretends not to have heard.
Wellwell insists:
But what are you doing here?
“It’s no concern of yours, see you soon!” she said. She seemed to hesitate. She lifted her hand as though to strike me and then, disturbed, she rushes towards the other side.
They got to know each other at school.
Lost in thought, Wellwell speaks to himself.
This war takes us more and more away from each other dear friend; I can’t believe my own eyes. This girl is considered one of my best friends. She was the best pupil in the class. That’s right!
A beautiful girl like her, how does she look like? Perhaps, she looks like a beauty queen. She is asking for charity now. What happened to her?
She dresses no matter how and persists in her down-and-out existence: can you spare some change, please? A bit of love! I beg you ! I’m starving; I’ve had nothing to eat since yesterday
Her hair hangs down her back.
Am I to conclude that she’s new to this work? Because she asked bashfully for charity.
1, 2, 3…she must turn round otherwise she disappoints me. Will she come back or not?
It seems that she’s leaving. Ouch! Apparently, she’s leaving.
Will she come back or not? Ouch! Will she come back or not?
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And…she turned to him.

Children of every age climbed the eucalyptus trees. Holiday-makers are surging in droves from the alleys.
Her teeth are chattering.
“My hand is cold,” she said.
– I’m pleased to see you again. How are you?
– So-so. A funny thing happened to me. But as you’re my friend, I’ll tell you everything.
According to her, it’s a shame it’s got to that stage. He put me up to it, she said. Besides, just jokingly, to beg today is a job with promising prospects.
Since he came there, solitude is getting me down. I was very disappointed at Mr Know-it-all. The war… it was a sheer failure. How many people were killed in that war? Heavy losses in men and equipment were entailed. Three people were killed in an accident: my brother, my mother and father. It makes me sad when I think of it. I’m lost.
He paid dearly for his mistake. The war cost him his life, Mr Know-it-all. May he rest in peace! In short, there was a general state of panic! In the back of my mind, it’s the memory I’m so ashamed of. That’s enough!
The subject’s over.
My head is spinning.
“There is nothing to be ashamed of,” I said. “It’ll soon be over with. I’m sure you’re going to forget. Are you tired?”
– Sure I am.
Darkness covered us.
Come on! I said. It’s no use crying.
– To go where? I’m scared Wellwell.
– It’s possible for them to put you up, with us.
Her eyes met mine. She shook my hand
From now on, we are inseparable, my love regained. May I decide for you, ok? My house is yours.
Don’t forget that during the war, for several years, love was the only thing that bound us together.
Now, hope is the only thing keeping us alive.
She spoke no single word.
“Never will love be defeated!” said Ufo.
CHAPTER -12

Gateway of Phoenix.
The village’s in a festive mood. It’s for you, Di! We celebrate your return from there. It’s the least we can do. Have a good time!
“I’ve lived in the vicinity of Babel for three years,” said wellwell.
Houses very close together. The village stands against the hillside. Finally, a colour that is soothing to the eyes.
Goodbye to war! The weather has brightened up again. I can breathe again!
The whole audience applauded. All eyes turn towards her.
Dina dances.
“If I can put it like that,” she exclaimed.
That’s the way she is. An old proverb says: “revenge is sweet!” and Dina decided like the Phoenix to rise again from her ashes.
The children, for their part, equally and indifferently enjoy themselves.
The guests made a dash for the buffet. The bottle of joy opens easily.
“Dina is a real gem!” finally confessed Wellwell.
She has a string of pearls round her neck.
The long-awaited for day arrived: do re mi!
Di hops from one foot to the other:
– I’m having a great time to make up for lost time.
It makes life worth living, again.
CHAPTER -13

Gateway of truth.
– Di, will you say something?
Wellwell loves her but the feeling isn’t shared.
– Love I need, it means a lot to me. I’m madly in love with you.
– Is there such a thing as friendship, isn’t it ?
I’ve got no friends Di, nobody except you, but I’m all yours.
Apparently, they are they’re a well-matched pair but...
Listen wellwell! I perhaps said, not no, there’s a slight difference! But there’s a problem. What a big disgrace to lie!
– Excuse me but the man I’m in love with, is not you. Ever since my early childhood, I l’ve loved him. He’s a childhood friend.
– You’re joking!
Whom are you talking about?
I’m eaten up with jealousy.
It breaks my heart. I can’t trust my ears.
She still thinks about him.
I shall never be able to look at her face again.
– I’ll give you one week, no more
– What for? As things stand, love is not for the likes of me. All that doesn’t coincide with my beliefs. It is my way of looking at things. I know. To love is not a crime! But to love, for me, is a risk we have to run and that may well last for a long time.
Furthermore, we’ll have to agree to differ on that.
“ And our love life?” asked wellwell.
She’s no less nervous than him. Weeping eyes filled with tears.
– I hate it when I bother you but…
– The War, both of us saw it.
We live apart! I wish we didn’t . It’s impossible for me to do it Di!
“This is what I suggest: love in small doses,” said Di. “Look, let’s forget about it!”
“But who’s your love?” asked Wellwell.
– S. Something but he was killed during the Gulf War. It was such a real shock for me...
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On our way home, Di looks wonderfully superb.
She unveiled the whole story to me:
At that time, children and women were dropping like flies. A hideous sight arrested them: Children of five and less were bombarded or trampled to death by elephants. High treason of childhood from every angle. That’s a pretty scandal!
The cost of living is very high there but Babel and other countries are selling cheaply like hot cakes. What a dreadful time we live in! It’s a fact!
What time has in store for us!
A pair of lovebirds is looking for a corner in the garden.
– How old you’ve grown!
Di’s just turned 17.
She admires Wellwell, but…
They make a lovely couple. The boats took a battering from the storm, and the key won’t go in the lock. Times are hard.
CHAPTER -14

A very old man, a mature woman.
The play opens with a dialogue of the deaf
Mr What’s-his-name: “Might is right!!”
Mrs What’s-her-name: but the tart I bake, for whom?
Mr What’s-his-name: The rain is off.
Mrs What’s-her-name: I’m sure I told you, the heart has its reasons.
Mr What’s-his-name: I say! The circus hits town tomorrow.
Mrs What’s-her-name: phew! The dog’s done a mess on the carpet.
Mr What’s-his-name: Would you like an ice cream?
Mrs What’s-her-name: stop it or I’ll tell mum!
Mr What’s-his-name: This lamp doesn’t give very good light
Mrs What’s-her-name: perhaps, perhaps not.
Mr What’s-his-name: what counts is that… but what do you say? My ears are blocked up.
Mrs What’s-her-name: What have you got against the book?
Mr What’s-his-name: There’s an art to making pastry
Mrs What’s-her-name: Err! By the way, have you read this book?
Mr What’s-his-name: It’s him, in his heyday; he behaves as if he owned the place. He’s the architect of his own downfall.
Mrs What’s-her-name: Listen! If you kick me I’ll kick you back !
Mr What’s-his-name: In other climes, other people around here fight with each other, playing cops and robbers or asking for political asylum.
Mrs What’s-her-name: It’s a matter of complete indifference to you
Mr What’s-his-name: Not known at this address
Mrs What’s-his-name: I don’t like you mixing with those people
Mr What’s-her-name: The engine needs some attention
Mrs What’s-his-name: Ouch! The house’s overrun with mice.
Mr What’s-her-name: Come here and give me the kiss of life!
Mrs What’s-his-name: I think so; the euro is strong comparing to the dollar.
Mr What’s-her-name: It’s a crime to waste time like that.
Mrs What’s-his-name: The ones with the long sleeves, what are the children up to? Those children will be death of me!
Mr What’s-her-name: Appearances can be deceptive !
Mrs What’s-her-name: The epidemic has ended thousands of lives.
Mr What’s-his-name: the woman across the road always comes to me for help.
Mrs What’s-her-name: I think so, Television makes people behave like children
Mr What’s-his-name: she’s a woman of few words
Mrs What’s-her-name: Too much television numbs the brain
Mr What’s-his-name: she strikes me as being a fairly well-balanced woman
Mrs What’s-her-name: what a big number of people perished in that war! Many people died in the blaze. What comes next?
Mr What’s-his-name: hey! The oven is self-cleaning, the heart too.
Mrs What’s-her-name: your doctor has forbidden any effort.
Mr What’s-his-name: I’m leaving tomorrow
Mrs What’s-her-name: (She’s laughing), I’m going to have a shower. You can keep your remarks to yourself.
Mr What’s-his-name: why shall I talk at all if you’ve never given me your ears?
Laughter spread through the whole audience. Curtain!
CHAPTER-15

The whole house is asleep. A hand opens the window which looks onto the garden.
In the vicinity of the village, a wolf howls.
Three days in a row, she hasn’t spoken to him still.
It’s a long time since I last saw her. Even as I speak, the village is shrouded in mist. There was a spirit of revolt in the village.
The Di I’m thinking of, I can’t see anywhere. Where’s she got to? Will she come or won’t she?
It looks as if she’s already left once and for all.
The key’s in the door but
Flash-back:
– I’ve given you everything, what more do you want Di?
She smiled oddly. Her eyes filled with tears.
Outspoken to the point of rudeness, Di’s blackmailing him:
– It’s your turn to choose now. Do as you like. When it comes to me, I made my choice. I don’t think any less of you, but… to be on-line or to be off-line that is the secret!
Her heart is pounding.
She’ll never forget his invitation yesterday; it’s like riding a bike, once you learn you never forget.
Flash-back:
– Are you free tonight?
– What for?
– To role-play in a Love scene, at a distance. To lose track of time, to renounce to all sense of reality and to act on an impulse of feelings
– To coexist with Satan, in the same darkroom?
It’s terribly hot.
– But in darkness, it’s paradise. Here’s what you have to do! There’s no harm in trying. You will come to no harm.
– Hello, what’s this?
– By way of pleasant change. Variety is the spice of life. Do you like it?
– Not really, no. You’re getting on my nerves, asking all those questions.
– I can’t see any harm in it.
– It will do more harm than you think.
(No sooner had arrived, one of his victims lit a cigarette, began to laugh, to undress languidly through the webcam and …)
– But how dare you! Violation. Scenes of panic! It doesn’t exactly inspire me but it gives me great cause for concern. It’s heart-breaking. It’s a waste of time.

For reasons best known to him alone, he laughs.
He has an honest face. It falls under the heading of “sphere of influence”.
– It’s worth knowing! Virtual reality. Everything’s connected. It’s the Butterfly Effect. It’s true! It turned out that’s inevitable. I wouldn’t go so far as to say no.
– Really? I didn’t know, ha!, ha! Ok! But within reasonable limits.
The road forks out.
– There is no question of our agreeing to that. I’ve told you hundreds of times. There are limits to my patience.
– You needn’t come with me.
“I’ll do it tomorrow,” he answered.
– But what are you getting at? This train goes to hell. Spider’s web kills!
CHAPTER-16

Gateway of Frankness
– Hi Di! It’s just a few flowers, nothing much! I’m sorry you didn’t like it. Remorse.
– Do you think I enjoy it! I found the story very amusing, ha!, ha! I was expecting the worse. But what lies behind this uncharacteristic generosity? I’d never have expected that!
Between the top step and the bottom step, rise and fall of an empire, it’s the Garden of Eden.
There’s something about you I don’t like. I don’t mean to criticize, but if I could just make one criticism.
On screen, from what I saw, through the half-open door, it’s awful! By the way, it’s no secret.
People like you, send each other postcards, hearts, kisses, cabbages, and other vegetables.
The gold rush: to surround oneself with friends or with beautiful things, to lure a stray gazelle into a trap, to wander about like a fallen soul in the face of the archetypal female, to make up for lost time,
Life is just a game for them. Sexual urges. What’s behind all this?
What more can I say? I’m not saying, it’s not for me to say.
To speak as an expert but the man of the moment or the intellectual in the true sense of the word, was banned from the club. He doesn’t belong anymore to the club of the greats of this world.
You’re never satisfied, Wellwell ! False dawn. All’s fair in love and war, it’s a frequent occurrence.
My heart bleeds for you. That love, in a rush, sideways at a webcam, breaks the crystal heart. I’m worried about your safety. I’m misplacing my trust in you.
You want to drag me down with you? ha!, ha! What are you letting yourself in for? A question mark hangs over the future of the soul.
He hung his head in shame.
– I fail to see what the problem is. We’re not salvages! Wellwell answered.
– Today’s Great War is a virtual war.
– That’s debatable.
– But that’s the sad reality. “Leave me alone!” she exclaimed. “Rather you than me”.
It will soon be time. You can’t see the wood for the trees.
– People like you have as many friends as you. Hey, you lot, come over here! Who else will be there?
– A friend in need is a friend indeed: do re mi!
He gave me a detailed account of his party. I felt sorry for him.
–How much did she offer you for it?
He made good his escape but he can say goodbye to his hope of winning.
– Nothing less than total obedience. What good will that does you? It’s quite of an irksome a job finding fruit in winter.
The car left the road. Suddenly everything fell into place: energy crisis! The engine won’t start off.
– My strength is failing me.
– ha!, ha! As planned. Fuel is getting low to cover a distance of several kilometres. The engine needs some maintenance.
– Forget it!
Trees, in a break with the roots, are shedding their leaves. Thousands of crows destroyed the body root and branch.
– Are the yoghurts still edible? There are signs in the whole wide world that democracy is on the way through facebook, ha!, ha! The world is afflicted with cholera. My goodness! That’s all well and good but wellwell, if you carry on like that, you will need a lot of this so-called Sildenafil citrate! ha!, ha! Before you’ll be in the finals!
CHAPTER-17

“If you’ve got no better thing to do, then read this book, at least. It’s worth reading!” said Ufo.
Props and traps of modern life!
Wellwell blinks and starts chatting.
My father lived on fresh air; he’d spent all his life without ever crossing the river. Spider’s web? But he never saw any such a thing! Neither did my mother.
Am I to conclude that nowadays, only a quarter of apple remains intact?
There’s venom oozing everywhere. Curiously enough, it starts with some taste of things to come, the fish swallows the bait and oops! ... It’s the vertigo! After countless attempts, at the mercy of the sea, it’s the point of no return; fish’s lost, wriggling among thousands of intoxicated fish
Among seaweed and rocks, one thousand and one fishes easily interweave to kill time and to be madly in love with everyone, in a rush and at the same time.
It’s unusual to see an exceptional fish that looks for precious something in the bottom.
Scarcely is fish in pursuit of something specific. All fishes including me. Of course! Ha!, Ha!
But that doesn’t rule out the possibility of my search into the sea or into the garden overgrown with weeds.
It’s the world-weariness, par excellence! I must confess!
To end up at all or to come to nothing, that’s my policy in my lifetime. That’s life!
You are curious to see my black box Ufo, ha!, ha! Can you swim?
– Show ME Wellwell!
Ok! Would you follow me!
All this fish look alike.
A few words are enough to persuade anyone or anyone else.
That’s easily said. For example, see what I’ll do!
–Hi Silverfish! I love you and I’m hungry, who am I?
–You’re a shark, congratulations! lol(*)!
–Hi Goldfish! I love you! You’re called Goldfish? Why?
– Because I’m a native of the Red Sea, lol! Send me a red heart! Thanks!
–Hi Flying Fish! I love you! Give me your MSN, do you have a webcam? Send me an invitation without any delay!
– (no answer) Ha!, Ha! That stupid fish is already connected with five sharks at the same time.
– Hi Freshwater Fish! I love you! Talk to you on the phone, okay?
–Okay, you little monster!
–Hi Saltwater Fish! I love you! “LOL” is a French film starring Sophie Marceau, I had already seen the film before, lol!
– Me too, kisses!
– Hi Catfish! I love you! How to make the window-panes vibrate deep inside you? lol!
–Just try to be a mouse! Lol!
Et cetera, et cetera... and and all the rest of it
–Have you finished already?
–But I’ve already TOLD you: I’m fed up with doing the same thing all the time, I’ve got something to finish. Besides, everything I do seems to go wrong, here. It’s an obsession Ufo! Time will tell! With time, we get into a rut and give up any hope of living in peace
Furthermore, the word has lost much of its meaning. What does the word “LOVE” mean, for example? Today, this word “LOVE” is not attested in any heart.
It doesn’t mean anything.
The world about us, what’s the world coming to! In the near or distant future, it’s a sweeping war.
A state of virtual war has been declared.
The next few years will be critical.
The village is shrouded in mist.
My head too.
(*) lol = “ Laughing Out Loud” Ha!, Ha!

CHAPTER-18

Gateway of Satan.
I have to put an end to my story. I’ll do it.
Who’ll do it if I don’t? I’m just asking you to be a bit patient. It’s so annoying! Ha!, Ha! To choose between several exits seems to me something unfair. What can I do? I’m tired, that’s all.
An interesting idea occurred to me: why not to refer to a woman who lives in reality? She is a poet and teaches English. She’s called O as in Olfa Philo. I received two of her messages, a week ago. These two messages hang well together here and that’s the root of the problem or the present crisis, in virtual reality. Let me explain: I sent her ten chapters of this novel to read and then give me her opinion. Surprisingly; however, instead of answering, she deleted me from her list of friends.
Yeah, well, err…
Put yourself in my position. I was surprised or, rather, infuriated. What have I done? Nothing. Is there anything more depressing?
A deadly silence. Nothing to report.
She doesn’t want to see me again. My pride was hurt : Ha!, Ha!
So what?
I dropped her a word in her mail.
So how did she respond?
A little something but it was somehow touching. This is what she told me:
“Hi! Well, I just felt this relation was jeopardising my household, so I decided to close the door where from problems may come. I am a married woman, sincere and faithful, I don't like to wreck my marital bliss because of virtual contacts. I Know that SATAN is behind the screen and everything starts with simple contacts, then they evolve to other things, may be I was wrong to think so, but I found it safer for my family to do that. I'm so sorry to remove a so valuable and famous person like you, but I guess you'll understand my reasons.”
(Message end)

Perhaps you don’t appreciate her message dear Ufo but me, now that’s more like it! Me, who has suffered, too, as the result of a heart grief.
Without hesitation, I sent her a thank-you letter and his reply was as follows:

" Hi! Well, to be sincere with you, with myself, with my husband and with GOD who is watching me right now, unlike the devil's whispers which give us the illusion that none knows what they are doing when isolated, I informed my husband that I got rid of you and that my act surprised you and for that you respected me more and you want to use my letter as a prelude to your novel, but he is still suspicious and apprehensive of our conversation because he thinks that all women are prone to be victims of SATAN, and his networking temptations.
Actually, many people on this globe are victims of SATAN and are unconsciously drifting to the 'Devil's Paradise', as you cleverly described it and this ' virtual paradise' hypnotized my husband like all men in one phase of his life and was to ruin my life on many occasions, but I resisted and decided to fight back the satanic oppression and save my family from this paradise/ hell. I struggled with SATAN for years and years, that's why I know him very well: I know his doors, his windows, his tricks, his lies, his ¨presence and even his smell. Indeed. I'm gifted by GOD with a sixth sense and I can read in people's minds and eyes and even in people's words and messages. I can detect the presence of SATAN even behind the TV or computer screen.
If you enter through the legal door of my husband, so we can be three good friends and you'll really get INSPIRED by my 'life movie' which is full of knots and climaxes.
In fact, I have the intention of writing a short story about my life and about my unswerving struggle with SATAN, and how we were victims of witchcraft for years etc, but I couldn’t find the time and the energy to do that yet. But all the material of my written poems and my future novels are inside of me, buried in the bottom of my heart." (Message end).
In my opinion, it turned that it’s a well-matched couple but out of this so-called Devil's Paradise.
“Yes, but…” Ufo continued, “it all depends, because to combine virtual life with family life, that’s the question. It remains to be seen whether the water coexists with the volcano.
in any case, unless it rains differently, to need to let off steam, to act on an impulse or to lose track of time and all sense of reality, in Devil’s Paradise, frustrating-frustrated, all this is but a door that leads into the hell. Ha!, Ha! Don’t say I didn’t warn you Wellwell! ‘Forewarned is forearmed’ as the saying goes.
–But if all our craniums have air-conditioning!
–I hope. I hope so! In order to limit the damage, Ha!, Ha! You have just to read beyond the screen, if you can.
– Phew! You and your precious books! This new magical world has its good points.
–ok! Up to a point but to reach the point of no return, it’s a disaster! All the evidence points, contrary to popular belief, to slow suicide.
–So, can you point me in the right direction?
–I’m poorly positioned to advise you dear friend, hee hee! I’m not psychic!
He says… but it’s all a pretence of doing something.
–Things are looking bad, but try to keep things in proportion!
Ufo made no reply.
CHAPTER-19

Time capsule.
“The crops were devastated by the storm,” said Ufo, “it’s time to live in abbreviated forms.”
* What comes next?
- The earthquake.
At times like these, to give somebody a kiss or a slap in the face, is the same.
Lol man, to surf, procures him the greatest pleasure but too much screen numbs brain. He had no alternative but to obey. “When a wise old man points the finger at the moon, only a fool looks at the finger.” Ha!, Ha!
“ I’m going to have a shower,” said Ufo.
Ufo never seems to know what’s going on.
The exception proves the rule.
- I had to give way in the end. Ha!, Ha! Beyond all cure. There is no known cure. The audience was enthralled by the play. Open sesame! Flood victims, in thousands: the haves and the have-nots, extended family, guess whom I saw! An intellectual, the heavyweight specimen, in the unemployed genre, all are Victims of a libidinous curiosity, incurable. Bottle-fed babies. Premature ejaculation. The lady of the house, she grew out of her dolls, and despite that, she still plays hide-and-seek with cops and robbers. Now it’s your turn! Ha!, Ha! It’ the increase in life expectancy. How useful will it be?
They howl in rage. Mass hysteria. They’re almost the same.
Ufo remained unmoved by their tears, but how to break the deadlocked?
Open sesame! Every one seems nice, but it’s only a façade. Every one for himself. Everyone to their own love life.
“To lead a secret life, even virtual and to limp out, what is it due to? Self-destruction. This surprises me, I must confess,” said Wellwell.
I don’t like myself in this jacket
So farewell to the plague!
I love you Di!
We’ll see tomorrow
Do re mi fa sol!
You’ll be my sunflower
Yahoo!
CHAPTER-20

Gateway of triumph.
In the village where we live, there’s something I don’t understand, said Wellwell. There’s something missing. Nothing is missing, of course not, one of this round table’s legs is missing.
Where is Samara?
She’s conspicuous by her absence. She lives, nowhere else but in a world of her own. Nobody knows her whereabouts, no one. When will she be back? It’s possible that he’s dead.
Only Dina gave us a great long speech about Samara. She whipped the crowd into frenzy.
“We’ll go wherever you want, tell us where she is,” said Wellwell.
The atmosphere is electric. A murmur ran through the crowd.
The bridge over the river, as far as there; inside, the town is overlooked by the castle, you see the castle? Well, she's there.
“I have nothing to hide,” claimed Dina, “Samara is still a war prisoner, taken captive in the first day of war. It’s time she regained her freedom! It’s a matter of life or death.”
“It seems stupid to us to wait longer,” said Wellwell. “All this talk isn’t getting us anywhere. Come on, move! We’re going to be late. No sooner said than done.”
One behind the other, something like five hundred people, those interested, the children and the elderly, men and women, there’s been a rush on the castle. The demonstration passed off peacefully.
The gateway to freedom, is over there, through the eighth gateway of the “Hanging Gardens”.
Seeing the riot, the guard and guard dogs, could not resist and ended up taking flight.
Demonstrators had a look round the castle, inspecting all the corners but in vain. There isn’t anyone here.
Neither Samara nor any other creature.
Open-mouthed, Di turned round, crying: we’ve looked everywhere, without troubling us, nothing but the truth: Samara is here but not here. It’s no joke, I swear. Samara must be there, we’ll check.
It’s true, isn’t it? – Yes it is!
Samara was there, on the roof of the castle. She was playing the piano, in front of one thousand and one butterflies.
* What role is for the guard here?
- She employs him as a slave.

Her voice choked with emotion,
Samara’s singing: (- repeat all together now!)
Once upon a time there was a king to the power of thousand and for the umpteenth time
I’ve heard that one before!
That’s nothing new
Do re mi!
War and peace
Peace and war
It’s always the same old story
Between the goodies and the baddies
The baddies, I don’t trust any of them.
The goodies, I don’t see them any more.
And he, the king to the power of thousand
What’s become of him?
Do re mi!
I don’t know what has become of him

The one time
I was on time
And no one was there
Today’s war
I remember it as if it were yesterday
It’s six of one and half a dozen of the other
Lawn scorched by the sun, promise and mirage
I’m back to my country where’s good to live
There’s a time for everyone
We’re singing life in all its nuances
Nothing is stopping us
We’ll wipe the slate clean and make a fresh start!
Samara is back in her beloved house:
- Ufo ! can you give the kitchen a sweep ? asked Samara. All right Queen! Ufo finally confessed: I love you dear Samara in 3-D. Di began laughing and Wellwell kisses her: As for me, I love you in small doses dear Di
* but… do you travel much, in the whole wide world!
- I used to, said Wellwell, now, I love you in reality.
…………………………………………………………………………..
And they lived happily ever after!
Sweet dreams!

On the horizon, a boat is bobbing up and down on the water.
CHAPTER-21

1
They all left to as far as there, in the countryside, where the river joins the sea.
- And now, how do you feel Wellwell?
* It’s the return to normality, in sunnier climes. 40 degrees in the shade.
It’s forever etched on your mind!
It’s been a long war.
Among other things, and with a certain amount of discomfort, Di is well, as are the children.
Finally, Wellwell is wide awake to the danger. Thank God! Now, he is the archetypal father figure.
Silence is gold.
Everything has turned to normal.
His little girl came running towards him:
- I adore riding daddy, she said.
* Here, no witches, but there’s enough bread. No bargain in Love, Wellwell’s joking.
Di brought him something to read. While reading, Wellwell fell asleep.
2
Wellwell Jr knows which side his bread is buttered on. It’s in the nature of things. By the way, he’s successful in everything he does. That’s how he became a mining engineer.
He opens his laptop to complete his research, but…he isn’t in the mood of work.
It just isn’t his day today!
Prompted by curiosity, he skims through some paragraphs of a book, within reach, entitled “Devil’s Paradise”. It’s a short story written by Wellwell Something, his father of course.
‘I’m glad to know it. I’m amazed at his courage, goodness!’ he exclaimed, ‘that’s very true!’ From these pages, some arresting items fell on his lap. A piece of paper and two comments about this book.
He read the first comment. A feed-back.
3
‘Hi!
Well, I read your short story, it's an interesting one.
Actually, I support your story because it upholds my own convictions. It sheds light on one of the most impacting problems of our century, the side-effects of technology and mainly the abuse, overuse and misuse of the internet, webcam etc. The unconscious victim /fishes tragically hooked, the idleness of people short of occupation which lead them to 'kill' time on the net instead of employing themselves in more edifying activities such as reading a book or playing sport to keep fit...
(They are unconsciously killing themselves and not time).
It also highlights the STUPIDITY of some women who fall immediately in the trap of the first man who tells them ' I love you', and surrender by giving their msn, phone number and even other precious things.
By extension, I can say that most victims of the virtual world and the devil's paradise are UNHAPPY and UNSATISFIED people in the real life, people who lack attention, care, affection, understanding and love, because in the opposite case they wouldn't have preferred the interminable company of a screen instead of that of a real person in flesh and bones.
Your story does not bring about a solution. It does not intend a didactic message either.
What I suggest is that CONSCIOUSNESS and SELF-CONTROL should be the STRONG MESSAGE to convey.
Satan's victims should wake up and read and foresee the risks they are running in leading a virtual life in parallel to their real life – ruining their conjugal lives, losing and neglecting their children, divorcing not only from their companions but also from the real world, by losing themselves in a virtual existence.
The internet is the new version of COLONIZATION in the 21st century, and what is surprising about it is that it's not imposed but rather chosen, and it's not physical or military but rather intellectual, spiritual, cultural and religious...
The complete absence of ethics, morality and fear of GOD are at the origin of this phenomenon’. (Comment end)

* Apparently, this comment by Olfa something is nothing new.
–I grew into knowing Olfa for a long time, some years ago.
–This comment… I think it’s magnificent.
– yes, if you like, but…
–Daddy, you always surprise me with your ifs and buts.
–Honestly, I have no objection to this comment
–So what?
–As a writer, I don’t like myself in a dress uniform, just intent on giving whomever a lecture. I write and cry while leaving the window open. It’s more than enough.
–But how to draw a conclusion or a solution for this story?
–I don’t know. It is up to you to do it.
He lies on his back as though to awake fully.
- You should see over, there is another comments by Ariane Wolteche. It’s another point of view, “but it’s rude to read while you’re eating,” he exclaimed.
Wellwell Jr stops chewing his snack and reads attentively the comment.
4
Quite puzzled indeed…
Curiously enough, not easy to get into the story…
Probably because I am not young enough to appreciate. But in fact, I don’t get what you are aiming at, and thus find it difficult to follow the conversations, as if the dialogue only could understand itself… and what purpose do they serve? … something missing? … Isn’t that most likely one thing too much?
Somehow the whole has something surrealistic which gives it a charm of its own, no doubt, though the story isn’t funny, quite anguishing in a way, perturbing in another, and not simple is the least one can say.
You are pouring tremendous knowledge in your writings, but is it suitable when too much mingles in a way that gets the reader lost between two sentences? A forest of ideas whooshing in his brain, and no indication of a way out (a bit like in your poetry? You follow your own ideas regardless of how we could receive them)… We don’t feel like sticking to the story in order to understand it (in between lines?); what’s more, to like it… In fact more than one reading seems necessary but one doesn’t feel like doing so, though I wonder what the other readers honestly think about it.
Don’t take it badly. I’ve put it bluntly, and it is just a quidam’s opinion only well-founded for one person, which means I am the white iris sticking out of all the purple and green of the painting.
Obviously, I didn’t get it, but to defend myself I’d say it is not a language problem… I swallowed all the Harry Potters in English in no time, absolutely loving the way they were written, more than the story itself (I dislike children’s stories). I could never drop the books’ (comment end)
Ha!, Ha! She is absolutely right to say any such a thing. I agree with her. I challenge anyone to deal with this story. Is all that necessary? You didn’t exactly strain yourself? Ha!, Ha!
Lol! Yet, nothing could be simpler but goodbye patience! The world’s gone mad on screen;
it’s a strain on the heart especially. A labyrinth. A message bomb. It’s almost another “Waste Land”. Do you know Eliot? Well, what about Wi? How often do you see her?
* At home, in the office doing research.
- Hem! But I believe she was badly advised about her studies, Ha!, Ha! I’m joking. That’s right! You and Wi, you’ve been long engaged since but it turned out that Wi doesn’t like you because she never writes to you.
In all sincerity, I can’t imagine her married! She sees you as an enemy or a frustrating guest.
The least little thing frightens her. The less she sees you, the better she feels Ha!, Ha! Once or twice, I saw you with my own eyes, I saw you on line, waiting for her while she was miles away, very busy. No doubt, silence kills, doubt too.
* Daddy, what are you talking about?
- Time will tell, there’s a but you’ll just have to manage Well Jr!
You can’t see the river because it’s screened by the crows.
She’s nice, isn’t she? She’s not bad. She looks good in the photo but…
- It’s very remiss of her no to phone or come to meet you. She’s free, I know but she hasn’t a spare minute for you. She lives off the generosity of her fellow captives. Oh the seriously wounded! It’s her absolute right, in the state she’s in, it will be difficult for her to come. There’s no time for you. It’s been a long time since you last saw her.
* Whether she comes or not, it’s the same for me.
- lol! Stop! You’re stressed; it’s disgusting, isn’t it? But instead of doing something stupid, try to find excuses for her. It’s only normal for young people like her to escape from something specific in mind, from the house towards the unknown or the jungle for example.
Until further notice, being apart is our virtual reality that proves the rule
* You can’t see very well from here.
- But what’s stopping you telling her? - The fear of the unknown? For fear of being expelled from her circle of respect, for fear of considering you mad and backward, skiing off the main road ?
Listen carefully, there are bends in the road. Blind corner. Good and evil. To always see the bad side or to zigzag along is getting only normal and to be on the right track is getting strange, Ha!, Ha!
Only a miracle…
5
Wellwell Jr collapsed.
“How can I do it?” asked Well Jr.
His father pretends not to hear, and then he starts laughing, while relieving Well Jr.
- So, you have not read Devil's Paradise!
* Listen daddy! I need to escape.
I don’t know where to go.
I need some fresh air.
Yet it all started so well but those big clouds are sure a sign of a storm.
6
Wellwell is mixing time. He puts on his laptop while singing loudly. Suddenly, holds his breath to say something important.
Come to see Well Jr!
What else? Another blackjack ?
Ha ha ! No! No! I’ve just read the email of Elsa d’ Ouragan concerning our conversational context.
Well, go ahead! Read it!
Well reads:
“I’ve greatly appreciated the comment of Olfa Philosophy, it’s true that it’s a general comment. Being an internet addict for only one year and a half now, I was myself trapped in the ‘web’ of the virtual web and I’m still fighting inside in order to arrange things and restore order to my life.
It’s so difficult! Olfa is absolutely right! But the heart is so fragile when it stops beating for anyone or anything…in that case, the screen acquires such an indescribable hypnotic power!
Now I can see clearly and I can fathom the depth of your story and mainly of your last chapter in the light of what you’ve just said…
Naturally, the writing style can mislead us, but the core is quite there, even though the message is not clearly stated, yet it’s implicit… Sorry for the bitter truths, but I congratulate you on the text and the way of approaching the issue, which is far from being superficial…
I wish the best for Well Jr henceforth, and wish that his lost happiness will be found again in the years to come given his painful experiences…”
7
A wave of grief overwhelmed the face of Well Jr, yet, thinking about the implicit message behind Elsa’s thought, he smiles. She has just refused a symbolic gift by Wellwell.
“It’s so kind of you, but I think I’ve already subscribed at Gmail, yet given the problems mentioned above, I avoid any thing/ trap like chat, MSN, or other direct conversations… I only respond to my Yahoo emails and Facebook messages.”
A well – grounded and rational excuse! Congrats Elsa ! Applauded Well Jr. The father, shook his shoulders while consulting his mail box…
LOL ! I think I’d rather shut up otherwise you’ll modify your chapter again! Wrote Elsa.
I really like it…a mirror of reality, it seems we are numerous to have been caught in the devil’s paradise…a glimpse of light in an empty and dry life… a mirror of the larks that we are in a so -to- speak ‘modern’ shape…Time has come for us to deconstruct reality in the light of these thought-provoking comments..
* Millions of shipwrecked victims...
- Yeah, as I’ve said, we are no longer a minority to sail in the mesmerizing ocean of virtual illusions…may be because, disguised behind that damn screen, we drop out our social masks and let it hang out …Behind the screen we give voice to that inner part of us we usually keep in the shade…Curiously enough, behind that screen, this inner frustrated part of ourselves is released, and only our virtual contacts manage to perceive it…that part which is much closer to our real selves…It’s for that very reason that it kept striving for resurrection and found the screen as the best shield to hide behind and survive…
Behind that screen, we let drop that part of our soul in order to better understand ourselves… The danger is when that real socially frustrated self interacts with another through that well-chosen adjustable self-picture and surprisingly enough pleases them… Similarly, if that virtual other grips your attention and nails your heart in that enchanting and fairytale-like way, here you are harpooned. Once this link is strengthened and intensified contextually and emotionally and may even evolve into passion and love, your imagination and the satanic whispers are released and relentlessly dream of the ‘eternal’ joyful life you would cherish in the arms of that other, even though he disclosed only part of himself …You start dreaming about that would-be-life as the best alternative for your boring, monotonous and passionless life which turns out to be the damned fate of us all…With the colourless heart stories lingering still in the memory, yet too far in time, we find ourselves eager to hear our hearts beating again, to embrace the cruel princess of love again, to get burned again with its flames before the ghost of old age takes us in its grips…With that in mind, and finding or having the satanic illusion that the one behind the screen is on the same wavelength as yourself, while may be in the ‘reality stage’ you may have not even given a single gaze to that person, is one more reason for falling into the devil’s paradise…
In addition to all these facts, I can invoke also the innate human desire to dream and spread one’s wings and fly away from the monotonous reality which drives us absurdly to blind intentionally ourselves in order to keep on dreaming and dreaming, and childishly refusing to land on earth… Nevertheless, this virtual passion is a double-edged weapon, as we get cornered in the devil’s paradise /hell we start giving roots to new forms of frustration, that of the cruel denial and postponement of gratification for these desires and lust created by the virtual realm…
But how can we land back again on earth without being hurt? That’s the real problem…what will be the interest of the people surrounding you, those who didn’t make yet a single move…
We must have all hundreds of silenced painful stories to tell…
8
Everything is oscillating, wrote Wellwell; the moody human nature, the details of a heart story trivialised and sunken in the mass…the daily costume balls…egoism…the abuse of freedom already within the reach of everyone in this world…the courtesy of sympathizing with the strange disguised other(s) ? But to what extent? to love? which love? Reality ? which reality ? that of the double- sided coat…the viper of the dreadful virtual world…the hand stretched out for you…is that hand really the right person’s hand or rather that of the devil dragging us to hell ? The one who loves you or is likely to be your would-be-lover, would be able one day to save you from this enchanting yet sinking boat and its magic hypnosis?
“As for your comments on this Latin American person,” writes Elsa, “and according to my personal experience, I do share her view that we are victims of our own misinterpretations, seizing those alleged big deals and unconsciously influenced by our empty or ruined emotional life, instead of standing back a bit from things and to objectively analyse situations or only having enough good sense to enquire about the reason behind everything and every single act independently of the arguments we may find whether satisfactory or not…
Generally speaking, we have that tendency to judge a person on shallow bases like a word, a letter, an attitude, or a multi-interpretable silence which is so hard for us to bear…
In that very bizarre virtual relationship from which I couldn’t get detached yet, that of the secret lover, how many wrong judgments arose from the frustrations of being misunderstood, exactly in the same way as it happens in reality with the person before us…We tell ourselves, that if that person loves us, he must have reacted in a different way, the way we expected him to do…Yet, we should all be conscious of our own shortcomings, something we usually and intentionally lose sight of to pinpoint to the shortcomings of others, while deep inside we know all that no one is perfect. One should think about giving a chance to the one who deserves it …after all , if ever we are interested in that person, can we reject him overnight with no single convincing argument? Will we be able then to easily forgive ourselves or we will keep bearing the pang of remorse for that unjustifiable error/ excuse? Taking one’s distance is
sometimes a must and I think we generally avoid that given our own weaknesses and fears so we prefer to reject the other under the pretext of committing a certain mistake...Actually, we rarely come across our alter ego…It will be wonderful if we meet it once in our life course…
9
Sunny time intersected with downpours.
“If only taking our distance is the best way to bring us back to reality…” said Wellwell, while opening another window to answer his Moroccan friend Tina D’ Atlas.
That’s right! (with a sigh). History repeats itself only with you.
I was expecting you to tell me something else but... It’s hard to tell. If I may say so, childishly simple, I was and I’m in a wretched state. That’s what you have to concentrate upon, asking me the question of the whys.
I was out of sorts that’s why I had to leave in order to withdraw into myself.
The idea never crossed my mind but in the state I was in, situation of potential conflict, the bludgeoning, to sink into depression, to collapse with exhaustion, etc, all this compelled me to die a little, in the distance, far from noise.
Friends, for their part, are wholly engaged in navigating elsewhere, they have their own paradises.
I’m not blaming you for anything Tina, there’s no need to worry.
You have been really nice to me but instead of relieving me, in the state I’m in, you’re going away.
What’s stopping you writing to me? Is it the artificiality of virtual reality? Now it’s raining, marvellous!
To leave me all on my own, without even speaking, I was not expecting that.
Sunshine interspersed with showers.
10 wait
In a wink of an eye, Wellwell clicks on his mail box.
“Needless to say that I appreciated your text,” wrote Elsa again, “everything is copied in the chapter…But I’d rather stop chattering because I find myself inexhaustible.”
“I’ll carry on myself,” whispered Wellwell.
Step by step, the black clouds started to clear away.
The curser grew angry, another click…
- I’m convinced that the romantic Wellwell is alerted as soon as a woman is caught in his grips, admitted Tina:
“Personally, I don’t need to blush for the feelings that I have for you Wellwell. I’m not living in a virtual mirage because I’m quite conscious of myself and my defects and also my openness to you is not a simple evasion , but rather an accomplishment of all the realizable things and precisely mine…
Wellwell, the romantic is more skilful in exerting on the readers the magic power of his fantasies, of his romantic mornings, of his revelations and later transforming his messages into novels, yet are his confessions the fruit of his objectivity? Does his subjectivity coincide with the world views? The discourse hackneyed on the nose and his harmful effects are so easy, but transforming it into a novel is quite a different task!!!
On the net, everything that is harmless becomes dramatic and the romantic Wellwell is putting into light the troubles of a helpless society and stretching his hand for them…
He knows that hell is silence, and in order to write, one needs to be involved. I do trust him.”
Wellwell had a headache, he clicked for the last time.
“But which chapter Wellwell?” exclaimed Tina.
Are you writing a novel about you and me? I want to know…Ah Wellwell, well!
What wouldn’t you do to ensure the success of your narration!
Your romantic fire in small doses reflecting the craziness of the virtual life, is killing me little by little, don’t you know that? But it lacks some coherence as a whole. Yet, personally I find this very absence of coherence the best epitome of the fluctuating state between the real and the virtual in which the victims of the devil’s paradise are bathing. I need to reread the whole text because I was not really very concentrated, your unpredictable behaviour is highly thrilling.
Have a nice flight Well. Take a good rest.
The sun shines in the emptiness, the earth and the sky.
Suspension points…
A dice
A desert
And finally
The departure towards the source…
END

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 11.01.2010

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