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I do exist, you know!
I have to talk to you about this. I am annoyed. I know you do not perceive me and still you can’t do without me. Do you think I am crazy? Why do you think I am here? I am the best thing that happened to you since you were warming your bum by the camp fire and wild animals saw you as their evening meal. ¶ In the mean time, I have to tolerate your constant staring at me. Time and time again I try to take on other forms and shapes, tens of thousands of times, ranging from big to small, from loud to modest and soft to hard. I adapt to differing political times, art trends and signs of the times, whatever they may be. I can be as light-footed as a feather in a light summer breeze, slender as a coke sniffing fashion model, broad-chested and present as a tattooed body builder, subtly secluded like a hermit, creative as Picasso and common as Comic Sans. Is it starting to dawn on you by now? Have I lifted the veil a bit? You will burn in hell if you still don’t get it! Look, look again, are you seeing me now? ¶ OK, OK, I realise I am asking too much of your tiny little brain. I will give you some more clues. I can be moving and bring tears to your eyes. I can be hard and show you truths you can’t avoid. I can be poetical and make you crave for love or mean and distant and make your heart bleed. But I can also make you feel rotten and redundant like a discarded piece of meat − exactly like you are making me feel now. ¶ I don’t want to keep my final trumps from you. I have seen to it that you know who you are. I make sure you won’t forget and you can build on what has always been. I can make you feel that you matter and that you exist. I am powerful and omnipresent. You can’t do without me and you can’t get away from me. You can talk a person’s head off and your words will vanish into thin air. But that won’t happen to me, you soulless jester. ¶ Sooner or later you will perceive me and you will realise my importance to you. Or else take this lament with you in your grave and I will wait and see if your descendants have more sense and compassion than you. I have deserved my place in time and won’t have it taken away from me. ¶ I give up ... I am the type you read and can’t do without. I am your memory and your future. Look into my favourite book Letter Fountain and learn to value me, every day all over again. Let me surprise you by the different appearances I can take on at your screen, your mobile or in your book. Do not forget me and show me the respect I deserve.
Verba volant, scripta manent
(Joep Pohlen, 2010)