I have nothing to do with birds
by Aylin Bloch Boynukisa, translated by Johannes Göransson
“I have nothing to do with birds.
When the wind blows I blow. I smoke in the garden with my dirty fingers. Her well-groomed hairstyle, cosmetics and nails sneak in the back way and hiss, I come here and search. She is so un-crazy that I become crazy when the wind blows I blow.
Women are always searching for something. That is why I am not a woman. I turn the soil up and down, up and down until nothing happens. I live in Bodega Bay until nothing happens. Then it happens.”
It’s this thing about being a girl. It’s this thing about being a bird. To sexlessly rush straight up in the sky and disappear into the shriek. To turn around but not to return.
“One time he saw her on TV. She was in an ad and was pushed by the future perpetrator. First she was scared but then she saw that the perpetrator was still an innocent boy-child she got happy and stopped being guarded. She was perfect.”
She did not look like a bird.
“Everything begins in San Francisco. Everything begins there and ends there.
1: Begin by looking at the sky. You can see birds there. The birds are from San Francisco. To San Francisco you can move, escape or dream. The birds migrate from San Francisco, around The Bay Area along the coasts. It doesn’t matter what they’re called.
2: I come from San Francisco. In San Francisco there is a pet store. On the top floor they sell birds. The birds sit in cages and control themselves. Outside on the street she walks and repeats herself (she’s pushed by a future perpetrator, becomes scared, sees that the perpetrator is still not a perpetrator, relaxes, becomes limp, becomes perfect).
3: I come from San Francisco.”
Lee points at the sky, and with his finger pushes it down against the ground like a torn balloon. It twists around his finger and will later dry there. It’s possible to see where hisn fingers have touched because of the grease from his fingertips. Lee writes a book about all the points and is exact in his quotes and vocabulary. It’s easy to get knocked out by that kind of stuff and this is guaranteed to knock someone out.
“In Bodega Bay there is nothing to search for. Here are children. One does not need to search for them because they are always at school. Sit in the jungle gym outside and think about it. Surely one wants throw oneself on the ground once in a while or be transformed into the cigarette she is just about to light between her lips. The weather is always on the lam here when the wind blows I blow.
I see her through the window. I need something to look at. Here in Bodega Bay there is nothing to look at or search for. I search for her through the window.”
To be a girl or a bird and to be constantly rushing upward, rushing past everything and everyone on the way up. To not have any breasts inside one’s green bird outfit. To be constantly convincing about one’s beak.
“San Francisco is a beautiful place. Beautiful places are full of beautiful people and big feelings.
4. Begin by looking at the sky. San Francisco’s sky is full of birds that migrate along the beautiful coast. San Francisco’s birds have many different names that nobody is really sure about. The names depend on what language you speak. What language the birds speak nobody really knows.
5: In San Francisco you can search for things. A pet store for example. In the window sits a kitten and looks at her when she walks in through the door. She has just repeated an old pattern from an ad that Alfred once watched. But she is not searching for the pet store. She is already in the pet store. How un-original of her.
6: She feels forced to look for something. She comes from San Francisco and she lives in San Francisco. She is searching for somebody else from San Francisco but meets someone from Bodega Bay. Later she will meet me. I live in Bodega Bay but I’m from San Francisco. I have migrated along the beautiful coast.
7: There are so many birds. Begin by looking at the sky. You see birds there. Try to count them. They move for inexplicable reasons and are therefore difficult to count. There are reasons that cover other reasons. It is so unoriginal that I go crazy.”
Lee writes his book. It will be a great success. One can imagine that he already knows that even though he’s also a little sad. It is easy to be sad deep in one’s heart and write Fuck the Pope Fuck the Child Fuck the Future so that somebody will most certainly be knocked out. On the cover of the book Lee will press the children’s pig-pale pecked-apart faces and the book’s title against a white and cool-green background. It’s easy to become nauseous.
“If you have anything to do with children, you don’t have any time off. I have actually nothing to do with the events, I lie outside in the garden and lift the soil up and down, smoke cigarettes with an incredibly erotic gaze.
It’s teeming with children. They demand my time. When they stare up at the sky they are scared of the birds. They are absolutely right to be scared.”
Lee writes about the small fetuses inside girls’ bellies, the small girl-fetuses inside the bird bellies. Girl fetuses and bird fetuses are both pink and blind. Lee advocates abortion, lets them rush high above the pro-life perpetrator’s pro-life billboard in downtown San Francisco. It’s time.
“The birds fly over San Fransisco. It’s a wonderful sight.
8: Open your eyes and look at the wings. See that there are no breasts. The breasts are picked. The fur hangs loosely form the shoulders.
9: In San Francisco there is much to look at. For example shop windows, trolleys and birds. In Bodega Bay there is nothing to look at. In Bodega Bay there is no future and therefore it looks like a utopia. San Francisco’s birds have migrated to Bodega Bay and peck apart the children. The children’s wide faces represent The Child. The concrete child lives hey wild and asks stupid questions for the rest of its life. But The Child has to die so that Bodega Bay can be a future-free utopia to long for. The birds are sitting in the jungle gym out side the school thinking about the shop windows of San Francisco. The school’s window is made of the thinnest glass. She lights a cigarette.
10: I’m from San Francisco.”
Everything begins in San Francisco. Everything begins there and ends there. The birds raise up on their toes, become longer and longer, peak in through the window high up there. Inside sits Lee and interviews a butch in tweed who is from Bodega Bay and knows everything about birds. Sometimes she lies but to Lee she tells the truth. They are dangerous, she says, that’s agreed, they point together toward the sky. The bird-girls will definitely be knocked out.
“The girl-child is pushed by the bird. The bird comes from San Francisco. Nobody understands why it has to be like this.
11: There is a connection that ties it all together. You have to look closely. Begin by looking closely. The connection ties content into double knots. Someone is pushed and the birds’ behavior is exceptionally rude.
12: The girl-child is named Cathy. Play with the idea: the name is foreshadowing and everything will have a happy ending. Cathy turns around, she doesn’t see who’s pushed her. The girl-child suspects that it must have been the grown-up boy-child in the shape of a brother and immediately feels better. It’s like this it has to be.
13: To San Francsico you can move, flee or dream. Play with the idea: the girl-child Cathy will grow up and change the C into a K, and escape from home one beautiful day. Somewhere in The Bay Area Cathy with a K will make her plans. Nobody will know exactly where Cathy is living, someone has heard something about New York or Kyoto. This is a fantasy about the future before it has happened and the future is located in place just before the future-free utopia.
14: San Francisco is a beautiful place. It’s impossible to count all the birds in San Francisco.”
Lee doesn’t play with the thought in his office, but considers it with the highest degree of seriousness. The book will be finished and it will be a great success and many will certainly feel offended or be knocked out. Lee laughs and wraps the balloon sky around his finger, wraps it around his finger like a hurricane. The birds circulate, rise and crash in order to rise again. if one looks very closely one can sense a kind of laughter in the corners of their eyes.
“For the future-free utopia I have prepared a garden where nothing happens, I turn the soil up and down, up and down when the wind blows I blow. The children hang around my hips and demand my time, their faces are full of horror but my gaze is dark and erotic in an inexplicable way. I am from San Francisco, she searches for me, sees me through the window at the same moment I see her. Nothing happens. Then it happens.
15: She comes to me. In her green bird outfit. None of us look like birds. It’s treacherous.”