an arm and a leg
not only did someone yesterday relate to me the perhaps most memorable quote for weblogging as such (karl valentin: “es ist alles gesagt, nur noch nicht von jedem”), but also did some of my fellow catatonics in spirit provide me with a way to keep up dignity during this initial phase where it seeems that i will be basically writing for, and to, myself. one fellow catatonia confessed having seen tom hanks’ new film whose title i will not expend the effort to remember, the one where he ends up on an island. alone. and turns a ball into his companion that he treats like a living being, developing a rather intense emotional relationship with it. as far as i remember, i have not yet talked to objects – apart from occasionally scolding my keys for having hidden beneath dirty socks -, nor have i painted faces on them in order to humanize them before treating them like actual living beings. i recall, though, having talked to my hands when i was a child, especially during that period when my poor left-handed self was reeducated to behave right-handedly. i felt i had to treat my hands equally, so as not to be unfair to my left one, and this involved lots of talking – telling stories specifically to my left hand and asking the right one to be a bit patient and considerate. which leads on to my legs, or to at least one of them: as long as noone is here listening, i thought i should perhaps talk (or write) to my leg. the one that you can see on the upper left-hand corner, wearing aesthetically pleasing socks (underneath which my keys …). or rather, the leg that you can’t see – because you are not yet here – but the one that can see itself, the leg that i’m talking to being the one that is supposed to look at the leg … did anyone use the word “dignity”?