The Endless Week, page 3
The bed makes wounds and her skin opens.
When a wound appears, it stays. It learns. It progresses. It festers. The pain speaks. It says: You are in this world, you create ebbs and flows, you have no control. All sick people create shit, even some dying people. Even in their final hour, in the hospital, at home, the rich, the poor, the young, all sick people create shit. If you give flowers to sick people, they will make shit. If you give them pieces of wood, they will make pieces of shit.
The grandmother made shit with the corner of her mouth, with her nose, she made it from her neck to her legs. Everything leaked. We can make shit with every part of our bodies. When we leave eyes behind somewhere in nature, they turn into shit, that’s their only option, like fruit, like meat. If you abandon a banana, it turns into rot.
She was heavy.
When they put her to bed on the first day, her body multiplied by two, she had four arms, four legs, and two heads. The next day, her body multiplied by four, she had eight arms, eight legs, and four heads. The day after that, her body multiplied by six, and then by eight, and by twelve. Each day, her body multiplies. Today, the grandmother has 21,170 arms, 21,170 legs, and 10,585 heads.
However, when her spirit rises up to the ceiling, she looks at herself, she sees herself in her bed, and the grandmother adds a sky over each thing. She looks at the objects, she looks around the whole room, and she adds a sky for each piece of furniture, a sky for the tv, a sky for the pieces of bread, a sky over the yogurts, a sky for each blanket, a sky for the floor, a sky over the gymnasium, a sky for each child, Salim, Sara, a sky over each of their heads, and a sky for each of their teeth, a sky for their foreheads, a sky for each lock of hair, and everything becomes lighter.
We can’t put one eye directly in front of our other eye.
Our eyes look at other eyes, but they don’t leave our heads. Our eyes can see substances, but they can’t touch them. They caress nothing. Our eyes stay where they are.
If he could have, Salim would have put one of his eyes inside of his grandmother’s eye. Every time he talked to her, his grandmother stared vacantly. Is it worth having eyes? What good are eyes when you’re not looking at anything? He wished he could blow into her nostrils and wake her up. Put firecrackers around her bed to startle her and make her jump up. She would have said: How long have I been sleeping? And Salim would have said: You’ve been sleeping for 10,000 years, Grandma, now we’re going to drink 10,000 liters of coffee.
When a person is sick, you want to help them. When you encourage this desire, you end up wanting to hit the person, slap them in the face, you want to say: Stop it, everyone is sick of this.
Salim wished he could put water in his grandmother’s body with a syringe to dilute all her problems. You wash the bodies of sick people, but their insides are dirty. You don’t clean the tendons, you don’t wash the veins, you can’t clean the muscles, the vessels. Their organs are brown, the color of shit, and their bones are dust, you can’t clean them, it’s a shame, a shame. Salim prefers dirtiness to death. He would prefer rot, he’d prefer rot by a long shot, rot would be much better than death, mold would be better, better dirty than dead. And if he’d had to lick mud, he’d have licked twenty tons of mud for 1,000 years rather than have his grandmother die. Swallow fifty kilograms of gravel rather than have her die. He would have swallowed screwdrivers and hammers rather than have her die. Remove pieces of his skull rather than have his grandmother die.
He said to her: I’m going to put you in a cradle, I’ll cover you with leaves one day. I’m going to dive inside a healthy person, I’ll take their stomach, I’ll take their heart, their brain, I’ll take everything. I’ll give you new organs, brand-new, clean ones, I’ll make you a new body. I’m going to boil your blood, Grandma, to restart your life. I’m going to make putty out of your bones and remodel you. You will be like a golden three-millimeter baby in my arms. And if someone wants to keep you from existing, I will break their fingers once a week. And when their fingers heal, I’ll break them once a day until the end of time. I will put you in a stroller and I’ll push you all over this strange world.
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Hello everyone, today we meet again for a new video on the subject of people, meaning cells. Your parents carry you and you are born, a doctor takes you out and you open your eyes. Cells surround your body, but you don’t see them. They have antennae, they absorb the vibrations of your life, and you don’t even realize it. There are things you can’t see, almost all things. In your room, in your house, when you breathe, cells cover everything. You can’t feel them, but you are never alone and you don’t think about it. You don’t know it. You are cells surrounded by cells. But a cell knows you, it watches you, it understands you. You yourself are not a person, you are not a single person, you are cells.
He lowered his eyes, he typed the word cell in his phone, he read: The cell is the smallest element forming all living organisms. A cell allows people to become enclosed and isolated. The cell is the basic unit of all organisms. But I’m going to tell you what isn’t written down: Your cells understand your life, they know. If you don’t understand your life, it’s not a big deal, your cells understand. The cells surround you and they multiply. They don’t sparkle, but they vibrate. One cell can help you, but it can also betray you, the same cell can betray and help you. Cells interpret your feelings, they know the contents of your chest. They act upon you because they are you. They understand your life better than your life understands itself because they are your life. Outside of your cells, your life is only the word life.
Don’t get up, don’t think, stay in your room, and be quiet. I did it, I didn’t understand, I couldn’t think, I didn’t know anything. Cells mock us because of our thoughts, they know our thoughts. One cell can become the lid on our coffin, it can become a teardrop, a pimple, a cold, or cancer. Cells giggle, cells hate. And to protect ourselves, we must be silent. When we’re quiet, our cells calm down. Be quiet in your head. Thoughts are things that contract in your neurons, but neurons are cells in our nerves.
Now, I’m going to tell you something and you are going to write it down on your arm. Write this on your arm: If a feeling decides your life, you are like a shoe. A shoe needs a foot. A shoe can’t move forward without a foot. But a foot doesn’t need a shoe to move forward, a foot doesn’t need a shoe to go out, it doesn’t need shoes to walk. A foot exists and it’s a foot. If there were no feet, there would be no shoes, but if there were no shoes, feet would still exist. If a feeling decides your life, things go through your body, and you need things to go through your body the way shoes need feet.
His room was large, his head was delicate. He brought his hands closer to the camera and said: Don’t be afraid to wait. Everyone is waiting, that means everyone is praying, even people who don’t believe. Look carefully, it’s as if they had dirt inside, as if they were digging. Look in the streets, in the cars, in kebab shops, in parks, in middle schools, look at their mouths and look in their eyes, everyone is praying. And why do you think everyone is praying? Think about it, everyone prays to be a person. Everyone thinks: I am this person, I have this past, I have this story, I have this place, I am this person. When they eat, when they rest, in the metro, in the train, they think: I am a person. They wake up and they think: I am a person, I am the person who lives at my house, I am one single person. Who is the opposite of God? It’s a person. If there are problems, the problems aren’t the person’s, they belong to God. Who creates illness? It’s not a person, it’s nature. Everyone prays so they don’t have to understand. From their right hand all the way to their left, everyone is praying. Cells assemble, they touch and they ask, they beg, you could say that they pray.
He moved his face close to the camera and said: Start the day without thinking, do an experiment. Let other things decide, let them choose your tastes, your problems, your movements. Stay at your house for an entire day, make the day last longer. Stay at your house an entire week, make the week last longer. Stay at your house an entire year, make the years last longer. Stay in your room. When I was a kid, I thought like a kid, I talked like a kid, then, at night, I slept like a kid, and everyone treated me like a kid. I had compassion for objects. When my parents got a new car, I felt bad for the old car. I felt pity for the papers in trash cans. Then I became a person and now I’m speaking to you. Sometimes, I don’t know what I am trying to say. Start your sentences without thinking. Start a sentence and don’t choose the end. I’m posting my poem a zero between the eyes, don’t forget to like and share, ciao, bye, see you next time.
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Hi who does God pray to?
Can you talk about life after death plz
Hi Salim, I understand what you’re saying but I want to tell you a story. I’ve stopped eating. My parents give me soup, and I put it in the toilet, I pour it out, I put the bread in the toilet, I flush. Food is something that no longer concerns me. To me, nothing is edible. Eating doesn’t exist, it doesn’t affect me. When I see bread, I don’t even think of eating it. It would be like eating a carafe, you don’t eat carafes. For me, nothing is edible.
Your face is ugly
Most of the time, I talk about my body in the third per- son. Do you think we suffer when we die? I don’t think so, I think we focus. I’m going to give you an example: some- one gets eaten by wolves in the forest. He gets eaten and he thinks: Wolves have a smell unlike anything I’ve ever smelled, he focuses on the smell, that’s one example
I hate people who give speeches about cells. Do you think you’re some kind of imam? Do you think you’re an imam, dude? You’re like the retards we put in institutions, like my brother, you remind me of my brother, my idiot brother
Salim, I’m writing to you for a bit of advice. I have an illness that has left me with only one tooth, but it’s a very beautiful tooth. People might think, poor guy, he only has one tooth, but I’m not poor, because my tooth is beautiful
Your mother should have swallowed you
The tooth I’m talking about is worth as much as the thirty- two teeth in anyone else’s mouth. All the teeth of all the people in the world combined aren’t worth as much as this tooth in my mouth. My dentist said: I’ve never seen any- thing like this. He said: It’s the most beautiful tooth possi- ble. He photographed it. He printed the picture. He put it on display in the waiting room, I’m proud. People think I’ve got less, but I’ve got this tooth. How can I let people know about it? I want them to notice it. I thought about pulling it out so I could show it to people in the street. I’d like to tell people: Look at this tooth. But my dentist advises against it, what about you?
What do you think?
Hi Salim, thank you for the video. Speaking of cells, I have brothers and sisters, but it’s as if I were an only child. You see, when people ask if I have brothers or sisters, I say no. Obviously. No. I’m an only child. I don’t understand the idea of having a brother or sister. I know you have a sister. But do you feel like you’re her brother? To me, brothers and sisters don’t exist. Everyone is an only child. I think my brother is an only child. I feel like my sister is an only child. Our parents didn’t divide one person into multiple people. Our parents had children who are only children. I can’t see it any other way
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Are you Sara’s brother?
My parents’ children are only children for example
You say that cells are all around us, but you could say cells surround the whole world, not just us
Hello Salim, is there another God above the regular God?
You have a soothing voice, I feel sleepy, I like how you move, can you whisper close to the mic next time?
Hello, I’m in love with my French teacher. I told her I wrote your poems. I don’t think that’s a problem, you said the po- ems didn’t really come from you, that they were for every- one and they came from everyone. She took an interest in me, thanks. When she started to take an interest in me, I told her about my life. When I told her about my life, she complimented me. When she complimented me, that was the first time anyone had ever complimented me. I’m an ordinary girl. Every time she spoke to me, I wrote down the date and time in my notebook. I have her schedule stuck to the inside of my jacket. I wait for her by the doors. She’s asked me to leave her alone, she doesn’t want to say hello to me anymore, why?
She asked me to stop following her
Hi Salim, now I’m going to look at people and think they’re praying
My teacher’s name is Genesis
To the guy who writes the aggressive comments, what hap- pened with your idiot brother?
It’s an uncommon name
My brother is a mental retard. My parents put him in a cen- ter for mental retards. When they give him rice, my brother counts the grains. He counts everything, he counts every- one’s fingers. I told him: Frédéric, everyone has ten fingers. Five fingers on each side. But he doesn’t understand. He spends his days counting the walls in his room. I told him: Frédéric, there’s always going to be four walls. He looks at me and says: One, one, one, he’s counting my head.
I don’t know anybody else named Genesis
Salim liked each comment, then he sat in silence for a moment. The objects in his room weren’t saying anything. The objects around him weren’t speaking, but he could feel them. And even when he wasn’t looking at them, the objects were looking at him, they were giving off vibrations as if they were expanding. However, the objects weren’t saying anything, so he closed his eyes. Objects are surrounded by the ideas of themselves. The object knife is surrounded by an idea-knife. A knife radiates the idea-knife up to six kilometers, up to ten kilometers. Maybe a blind man can sense a knife in a room. If you put a blind man and an object in a room, if the blind man concentrates, if he spends hours in the room, he might end up hearing the name of the object, he might end up seeing it. All things say their names, they basically introduce themselves. The moon radiates the idea-moon up to millions of kilometers. Salim imagined an experiment, he typed it up in his phone:
an experiment that proves objects say their names
1. You take a baby from his parents at birth.
2. You put the baby in a room filled with all possible objects.
3. You never speak to him.
4. You throw him bits of food through a trapdoor. He eats.
5. You throw him water. He drinks.
6. Twenty years later, you take him out of the room.
7. You ask him questions.
8. The former baby says a word. He says a few words. He says different words. He says the names of objects in different languages. He says the name of an object in German, the name of an object in Lingala, the name of an object in Bengali, the name of an object in Russian. He points to the objects. He knows them. He says their names in a language. He doesn’t speak in sentences.
9. We learn that objects introduce themselves. Science proves that objects say their names.
Salim walked down the hall. He washed his hands in the bathroom. When you wash a hand, you’re putting a smell on that hand, you’re covering it. A dirty hand smells like work, that’s the hand’s smell. Salim got embarrassed looking at himself in the mirror, as if he existed too much, repeating. He put water on his face and the water was hot, he let it run. He wiped his hands, he wrote:
water has no center
He posted the sentence on the network and then looked up. He saw steam floating in the light. Suddenly, he felt like the world lived in a wave, the whole world in some sort of wave, a large, slow wave, a single motion, he wrote:
water has no style
He posted the sentence on the network, he readjusted the sleeves of his sweater, and he thought about clothing. Clothing is lonely, because clothing isn’t a person, it surrounds a person. Sometimes a piece of clothing hates a person. The clothing doesn’t like the body it covers, and you can tell. But clothing protects them, even a dirty, lousy piece of clothing. Clothing insulates, and the person remains inside. Clothing draws a circle, but the person is not the circle. Clothing beautifies, it adds something. We put different pieces of clothing together, they protect us, but no clothing can replace us. No piece of clothing can become a person. Clothing doesn’t protect us from our smells, from our heads. Salim looked at the floor, he looked at the ceiling, he looked in the sink, his mouth almost open, he looked at his mouth in the reflection of his telephone, he lifted his left arm, he stretched it out, he bent his legs, his butt touched the ground. The lines of the tiles gave shape to the floor. They outlined the room. He saw eyes, tiny little gray eyes, thousands of eyes in the lines in the tile. We see eyes everywhere. You can see faces in yogurt or on a fingernail. Just look at a stone, wait, and you’ll see a nose, eyes, and mouth. Look at one of your fingers and you’ll see a head. A face like ours. We see each other. We can recognize ourselves in any surface. Napkins hanging like cadavers, toothbrushes, doors, faucets. Salim took a photo of himself, he looked at the image, he zoomed in on his eye. He posted the image. He lay down. He took a photo of his forehead, he posted the image. He wrote four lines:
my head
in water
my head
under a sheet
He posted the lines on the network. He added a wilted-rose emoji. He wrote the word: Careful. Then he looked up.
This is how it happened: he’d write the first word, then it was like he heard voices. He didn’t hear voices, not really, but he translated them into a language. He waited with a stupid face, a dazed look. Then something like a mouth opened inside him. He wrote what he didn’t know, as if things were writing themselves, like opening your eyes by shutting them. That was it. We’re capable of writing words we don’t know. In school, for essays, he’d written words he didn’t know. If someone had asked him what these words meant, he wouldn’t have known how to respond. The word pallid when he was eight. The word falter when he was ten. The word affable later on. Words he didn’t know turned up in sentences. The words came from the sentence, they came from other words. The other words inserted them, they put them in the correct form where they belonged.
