I’ve been attending a video editing course since Monday, I want to see my illustrations in motion. Actually, the authorities force you to do something, and the measures are getting stricter there too. “It’s like in the military!” – “We’re worse!“ But where the horse rides you, that’s up to you – if you know the direction. There is even a department for artists here in Vienna. From the beginning of January until now, I was free as a butterfly and lived 99% for my art project. But now my life needs structure. If you are your only critic, you are your own biggest enemy.
Now I’m on my way to Ilse Schmied in Neubaugasse to buy some textured drawing paper. Thank goodness her shop still exists despite all this turbo globalization. I’ve shopped at Ms. Smith’s all my life, even though she only opens the door sporadically. But she has the best things that you can’t get anywhere else. Your contacts go back to the 1950s, where else can you find people like that? I got all of my purple drawing folders from her, they are lovingly handcrafted.
It’s a late summer afternoon with lots of sun that sets glittering. It gets dark quickly, even though it’s only 5 p.m. During the purple hour, Mariahilfer Straße resembles a promenade and the nightlife has already begun. Flashing advertising signs appear everywhere, endless loops of noisy slogans emanate from shops and bars. The Schani Gardens are populated by screaming young people standing at the slot machines. They call it retro, but it’s the same rip off as everywhere else.
I walk along Esterházygasse, that’s where Michail lives. He is also a graphic designer and illustrator, as well as a kind of replacement for my twin brother. When I arrive at his place, the door is wide open and the entire staircase is blaring with Russian techno. I’m two minutes early. “I’m terrible.” He paces behind the computer like crazy. “Two friends fled from Moscow!” – “Why is that?” – “War!” – “In Russia?” – “They are fleeing because they suspect it. It’s not official yet.” – “I should watch the news more often and not always my selfmade porn.” There are some new things in his apartment, we last saw each other at my lecture at the end of March.
“Wow. It changes.” – “Depends on the mood.” – “Can it also show dirty thoughts?” – “What are you thinking about?” – “Apparently the pattern of my mother’s dress, at least part of it.” – “Anything else?” – “Please don’t make me think, I lost my brain juice in yesterday’s pussy.” – “Make an effort.” – “A triangle.” – “Look! It changes again.” – “Another triangle. Just upside down.” – “It’s a mystery.” – “Perhaps the triangle as a musical instrument. For Andrei Tarkovsky it heralds a dream.” – “Do you think you are dreaming?” – “I think all life is just a dream, what do you think?” – “You think too much.” – “Is that the point? – “Come on, you’re exhausted. Lay down.”
He throws me on the bed and kisses me on the mouth. I’m in a giver mood because he always is. Therefore, I devote myself long and patiently to his dick. I’m also really cockhungry because I always have to be active. We lie there in the 69 position and suck each other, finally I sit on top of him and fuck his mouth. I put his cock between my bumcheeks and play cowboy again, only upside down. This turns me on so much that I immediately cum in his mouth. He swallows every drop and comes right after me. “It’s always so beautiful with you.”
Then we just lie there like two puppets without strings. The music from the speakers stops. The roar of the crowd has become distant, at some point you get used to it. Down on the street, a moped rattles past, strangely disembodied. Michail once said that he sometimes heard a cyclist singing when he was working in the middle of the night with the window open. Between two and three in the morning he drives by downstairs and sings opera arias.
His hand on my back stops moving and he falls asleep. I drift away either and fall into holes of fainting, like small abysses. This wakes me up for a moment, but then I realize that I’m safe. The radiator hums quietly until I completely lose the sound. The walls expand in the darkness, growing together into an infinite space before dissolving like gas.