The Two Birds: 3

Intense feelings of love may not always bring you comfort. It has happened many times that I have loved selflessly, yet that feeling of love was not intense enough. I once experienced proof of how deep and enduring the joy of loving with tremendous excess can be.

I mentioned at the beginning a close friend of mine—it was to him I would convey through letters the multiple conflicts of my life. My problems should have seemed utterly trivial to him...yet he read every single one of my writings with deep attention.

Can you imagine how much time was wasted on this! Though I was afraid to tell him then, and still fear to say now—"I want to love you tremendously, excessively!" because I know it is not possible.

I was not so ill before...what has suddenly happened to me! Having to cut off contact with him this way...the very thought makes my heart bleed. What would it be like if I could love a dead person?

Ugh, this discomfort! I can hardly see anything properly in this darkness anyway. What is that ahead? Dawn is not far off, some dim light is gradually becoming clearer...

My eyesight has grown quite poor lately, my vision seems to be deteriorating somehow. It feels as though some creature has stumbled and fallen near my feet, refusing to let go. What is this! Will it bite and tear at me?

I once had a great desire to learn music. The mournful tune of the violin is tearing at one side of my ear...someone seems to be striking continuously at my heart with a sharp knife. That melody had embedded itself so deeply in my heart—I can bring it vividly to my imagination in any circumstance.

The sky is heavily clouded today. It looks like rain will pour down. I looked at the calendar and saw it's November 7th. A thick layer of dust has settled on the windowpane, with something written in cramped letters...

The moment I gently brushed my hand over those letters, tears came to my eyes! I realized it's the birthday of the person closest to me! I feel like sending him boxes full of gifts—but I lack that kind of means.

Someone close to me...have I ever really had anyone? People have close ones, so why don't I? Am I still not even human?

That violin melody rang in my ears again! I'm remembering vividly today a time from the past—truly, the demon of writing had possessed me because of him...

That time was so beautiful and colorful. I couldn't write with well-arranged words then, a haphazard quality was quite evident in my writing. Yet, amid all this, the tremor of emotion in every letter of those writings was quite powerful and acute.

At that time, apparently, my imaginary world was quite colorful—where there was no discrimination, everyone was equal. All my worries, ailments, inferiority complex...everything would somehow dissolve there...in that colorful world.

After a while, I expanded that imaginary world further. Yet now I myself no longer live there. Some terrible beasts and insects are tearing apart and devouring the cage of my chest at their leisure.

Wandering the streets aimlessly...do so-called gentlemen have the right to abuse such a person? What do I know! I find myself quite convenient—but I don't understand what their problem is with me. Oh! If only they had some work to do!

It is truly possible for me to do something audacious. If that's the case, then why am I sitting here not doing those things? For whom am I waiting? Waiting for what? And why have I started thinking about this thing called 'time'—trivial, essentially non-existent!

As long as I can breathe, all that time is mine. What has passed...what use is it to me? What good would it do me to bring it back? What guarantee do I have that what hasn't come will ever come, or if it does, whether I myself will be able to see it? I no longer care about such things.

I have discovered a new method—for a long time...for almost three quarters of an hour, I will keep my entire body submerged in water; then when a damp feeling comes over the body, at that very moment I begin to feel like an ugly and infernal creature; and immediately, moving away from there—standing completely naked before a mirror, analyzing every part of the body meticulously.

This makes it no longer difficult for me to understand that there is a very subtle difference between the firmness and enchantment of human existence. When the water droplets on the skin gradually dry and the body becomes quite soft—a strange beauty envelops me.

At that moment, the body feels wonderfully tender to touch, suddenly with shivers all the sensations of pleasure forcibly touch me through my reluctant efforts...and, lingering traces of faint excitement.

I deeply touch the sensitive parts of my body; in such a way, as if no one else in the world has any right to this beauty of mine. Within moments, fatigue descends upon my eyes...

Unconsciously, I begin to sink into the wonder of an unknown sensation—from which my body is completely unprepared to detach! I understand that the source of this particular sensation is some unknown world outside, which is impossible for humans to control.

I feel as though my entire body is gradually becoming numb with an unbearably pleasurable sensation!

(End of Part Three)