Peter! Peter! Come here and sit. I need someone to listen to what I have to say! I have spent time with words. Here in my chair, but also in coffee shops. Reading and thinking. Reading and thinking. Savouring the words. There have been so many. Many fine thoughts too. Don’t know who’s words they have been. Maybe many thinkers brought together. – No, don’t say that. I am now describing my experience and the way I see it. Yes, as a reader, as a woman and as an older woman too. You see, I did not know what I was getting into. So much energy as you might put it. Not money, no. The other. Sex. Energy that was used as glue. Strange really. Glue immobalises. Did not think of that? Maybe so. Makes one wonder about the purpose. It can’t be revolution. Strong words are there, almost hidden. But I found them. Big thoughts, and important really. But maybe I, maybe all of us are too tired to think. Too tired at least to act. Worn down by the competition. Worn down by the energy drawn from my back, our backs! Yes. Yes. Too tired. Sad really. Somebody should do something. But that is not enough. Whole global situation needs fixing. But. What does it help, if I, or Finland or even Europe does something? Something that will ethically correct the balance between people… So you have no answer, Peter. I can see that. But you thought it is important to raise the thought. It is. I agree. But I am not sure, that it is the main point in the end. You see, the whole time I felt a little bit of an outsider. As if I was somehow peeping in. No, I don’t mean just the descriptions of the sexual experiences. I mean that somehow I could feel and understand the words, even sentiment. But I felt a little aloof. Maybe the words were meant for someone especially. Circulated far and wide, just to reach the ears of some. Or many known ears! Just a thought. Yet, I feel satisfied. The words are of literary merit. That is quite a surprise. It is. Com’on. Years in making. That is true. Lots of reading done. Lots of work with the words too. Almost a little too many words about too many things. Maybe even factual fiction. Almost like fictional research. What about? Maybe self? Ego? Katharsis in study and fiction? Forgiveness? But, just wait a minute. I will get some tea for us. Then I will continue….
KOLKKO: dreary, dismal, bleak, stark, inhospitable, funereal, gaunt, sepulchral
STARS: 4/5
graphicgrub 