A Dumb and Pointless Tale - The End

What happened next?
Well, my sources didn’t really agree on how the story ended.
So I’ve just summarized some of the most convincing alternatives.
Or else you could think of one yourself. Whatever.

Likely scenario
The prince never saw the notes, for the butler emptied his pockets every morning. The girl waited and waited, got over it and married the gardener, who had always been nice to her. They had a family and she forgot all about writing.

Gothic scenario
The butler saw the cleaning girl sneak in the prince’s wardrobe (which, naturally, was the size of your average apartment) and told the prince about it. He was so annoyed by her presumptuousness that he exposed her in front of the whole court.
Later that day, blinded by rage and unsatisfied desire, she murdered him in his sleep and then slit her wrists. On moonless nights they can still hear her screams in the castle.

Improbable scenario
The prince read the letters and was instantly hypnotized. He spied on the girl, found her, and they had mind-blowing sex. Afterwards, consumed by guilt, he decided he had to do his duty and sent her away. She left her hometown heartbroken, yet by now she had become so good at inventing catchy headlines that she launched her own tabloid newspaper. Better than the Sun.
Stardom followed. Many years later, she wrote a novel about her teenage love affair. It sold a million copies, so the prince (now king) invited her to the palace for a speech. Seeing her made him realize his mistake, but it was too late.

Fairy tale scenario
You’re not expecting a happily-ever-after now, are you?
Get a life, for fuck’s sake.

I spent the last month or so in a state of continuous distraction, complete disorientation and emotional extremes. Suddenly,
all these articles have materialized out of thin air. Many suck, a few are ok, but still…I’m so relieved.
At the same time, there’s no way I can feel proud for something I didn’t put almost any effort into, right? Which, for better or for worse, applies to pretty much everything I’ve done in my life so far.

Totally self-absorbed again, I know. I, I, I…
Thus fails the dissolution of the ego. Game over.

She said: Nothing is ever really over, you must accept it.
We looked at each other in electric silence.
She said: Sometimes it takes more courage to be weak than strong.
I did not recognize her, the stranger in my head.

A Dumb and Pointless Tale- Episode 7

“So the girl wrote and wrote and put her greatest effort into it, squeezing her brain to extort the most captivating, irresistible sentences possible. To catch the prince’s eye. To make him read long enough to maybe acquire some feelings for the mystery author.” (tbc)

Have you noticed that the people who look normal are usually the most fucked up of all? It’s probably because they spend years trying to suppress their insanity. So that, when it comes out it’s in tidal waves, sweeping by everything (and everyone) around them.
I’d say go for the freaks, those whose craziness stands out. They’re often much more at ease with their instability. And they might hide treasures behind those scary masks. (I said might, ok?)

Very tanned friend just back from the sunshine:
“There is something sexy about white skin, you know.”
Can I have that tattooed please??

A Dumb and Pointless Tale- Episode 6

“Still, the cleaning girl summoned all her courage and imagination and began to write. She couldn’t know if her letters were being read but kept writing anyway. Aware that her only tool of seduction was the power of her words. Which weren’t that powerful anyway. As I said, nothing was very special about her.” (tbc)

Help. I couldn’t speak. Now I can’t shut up.
What’s happening to me???

Something irrelevant I noticed a few months ago. Allan Johnston and Allan Johnson have their birthdays on the same day. I swear.
Speaking about coincidences, I think Murakami’s got it right again:

Maybe chance is a pretty common thing after all. Those kinds of coincidences are happening all around us, all the time, but most of them don’t attract our attention. It’s like fireworks in the daytime. You might hear a faint sound, but even if you look up in the sky you can’t see a thing. But if we’re really hoping something may come true it may become visible, like a message rising to the surface.

A Dumb and Pointless Tale- Episode 5

“But what kind of note would grab a prince’s attention? It couldn’t be a confession, or even a love poem, as he was getting hundreds of these. How about a very interesting story?
Hardly, as this was not your typical moronic prince. He loved books, had met the world’s best authors, and even published some stuff himself. Besides, what kind of story would fit on a pocket-note? She’d have to do better than that. Or perhaps she was just ruined from the start.” (tbc)

Disillusionment occurs in...fragments.
I got up this morning and thought what the fuck am I doing?
Who am I? Where did I forget myself again?
Nothing makes any sense as I doubt doubt itself and the
flashing question marks lead nowhere.
So I said wake up you little fool, you're not half as important as you think you are. Which is all for the best, cause you don't have
that much to lose anyway.

Then I prescribed myself some coffee.
No better cure for hopeless existential dramas. Dream on.

A Dumb and Pointless Tale- Episode 4

“Now, where could the cleaning girl leave the note? It had to be somewhere where the prince would see it, but not immediately. Some spot not necessarily associated with her. Under his pillow wouldn’t work, nor on his desk or chair or cricket bat (the prince loved cricket). A pocket in his jacket, perhaps? Yes, that should do.” (tbc)

Come on admit it, wouldn’t it be fun to be able to read everyone’s mind for a day? People walking around with little clouds over
their heads. Each person seemingly in a different world,
and then you’d start to notice patterns.

We’re all like books waiting to be read. New books open easily; old pages stick together. Some are in foreign languages, others
full of unfamiliar jargon. A few are bestsellers,
many more pass largely unnoticed.

Once in a while, a stranger grabs this amazing novel you’ve just opened out of your hands, screaming “Hey! That’s my book!” And, sometimes, you think you’ve got hold of the priceless manuscript you were looking for all along…but it turns out to be a copy of the new Ikea catalogue. Or something.

A Dumb And Pointless Tale- Episode 3

“Finally, after many sleepless nights, the cleaning girl made up her mind: she would write the prince a letter, but without revealing her identity. No, not a letter, a short note, so that he wouldn’t get discouraged just by looking at it.” (tbc)

Feeling strangely better today.
Got some sleep finally.
Was it because I danced before I went to bed?
Also, apparently I am capable of surviving an interview.
And there is such a thing as a picturesque vegetable.

Poisonous rainbows looming over labyrinth cities.
Paranoia will creep in your veins and take over your heart.
What did you wish for?
I said give me the strength to elude delusion.
Not that it ever made much sense.
I asked for the power to live in the present.
Oblivion is denied; our screens sink like black crystals in the
lake of eternity. We miss the train.

Surrealism failed, let’s just move back to symbolism, shall we?
A Dumb and Pointless Tale – Episode 2

“Of course, the cleaning girl couldn't just speak to the prince. He had probably never noticed her, even though she made his room every morning. Why would a prince look at an ordinary servant?
He could have any woman he wanted.
Besides, he was promised to a fair princess from a neighbouring kingdom since he was a kid. People said theirs was a love match. So, trying to talk to him could only bring ridicule and would probably cost the poor girl her job.” (tbc)

She said: The worst thing about bad sex is
that it comes attached to people.
How can you be so cruel?
She said: If I was cruel, I'd say the same about good sex.
Oh, shut up.

Off to something entirely different:
Here goes, A Dumb and Pointless Tale (as simplified as possible)

“Once upon a time there was a cleaning girl that worked in a palace.
Nothing special about her, just an ordinary palace-cleaning-girl.
One day, however, she fell in love with the king's son.
She tried and tried to stop fantasizing about him but didn’t succeed. You see, her heart was young and innocent and this was her first love. In the end, she decided that she had to either do something about it or go mad.” (tbc)

Dear Ghost,
Please. Get out. Of my head. Now.
It’s not fucking fair.
Still, I kind of like it, in a slightly twisted way.
One day I’ll remember this and smile…

When I was 10 I had (another) existential crisis: I didn’t want to grow up. Most kids might go through it sooner or later, but mine was intense and quite persistent. I remember spending days trying to convince myself it would be ok. I don’t think I ever succeeded.

They say that childhood is ephemeral, a transitory stage. In fact, it’s the only time of your life when you have a stable sense of identity. Never again will you look in the mirror with such determination and say : This is who I am. And I want ice-cream.

I think I still exist, without an audience.
The Ice is melting. I'm no longer ashamed of my words.
And I'm too stubborn to end this, anyhow.

Didn't they tell you?
There won't be any winners in this power struggle. Only fools.

Dialogue with ghosts No 1

As always, their silence had more layers than their conversations.

There were the words they didn't speak to avoid being judged.
Sides they kept hidden to create the right impression.
Points they didn't clarify because they loathed commitment.
Fears they never revealed so they wouldn't seem weak.
Confessions they held back to protect their pride.
Questions they didn't ask because they were afraid of the answers.
And all these countless little details no one
considered worth mentioning.

It's tearing me apart, my love of fear
But I would never try to hold you near
And I refuse to shed a single tear.

Experience shows that successive tragedies can
neutralize each other (homeopathy).
But sometimes I wish we could live a few moments twice.

Silence unfolds creepily on breathing canvas.

She said: I'm not depressed, just experimenting with pathology.
They built a world of distorting mirrors and day-glo waterfalls,
then watched it burn it slowly.

She said: Sometimes it's harder to take than to give.
Spellbound blueberries fell from the sky and the corridors exploded.

She said: I'm afraid of the monsters lurking inside me.
I couldn't care less.