Who has other worries by Nina Dragičević
This is an extract from her novel, Kdo ima druge skrbi, ŠKUC, 2014.
Nina Dragičević (b. 1984) is a writer, composer and a sociologist. She is the author of a novel Kdo ima druge skrbi (en. Who has other worries; 2014, ŠKUC), a book of essays on gender and sexual difference in music and sound arts, titled Slavne neznane: Zvočne umetnice v konstrukciji družbe (en. Famous Unknowns: women and lesbian musicians in construction of society; 2016, ŠKUC), and a book Med njima je glasba: Glasba v konstrukciji lezbične scene (en. The Music between them: Music in formation of lesbian spaces; 2017, Ljubljana Pride Association). In 2016 her album Parallellax was released at Kamizdat Records. Nina is the founder and editor of a lesbian zine Lezbnik, and the editor at literary magazine IDIOT. She is also the editor and host of a radio show Slavne neznane (en. Famous Unknowns) at Radio Študent, and the artistic director of symposium and festival Topographies of sound.
vocalise your stanch, ladies, juxtaposed with silence, once again set to voice.
we sit and try to stay awake, curse body fragility and beg eyelids just a little more, just a tiny bit. eyes burn with exhaustion and conscience burns when looking back. ahead of us something seemingly a woman looking at women only looks wears hair of other woman for adolescence simply will not end and looks mostly after herself and artfully burns on promenade, her t-shirt says oops. does not wipe off her smile concreted at dawn when she woke up alone insead of her co worker is her friend ever since work places became happy spaces of creation and socialization exchange of ideas and frustration whom she would since ever like to be in bed with or in the same shit, but they never shared that they both know, know about each other and nothing else, but others do not know, for it is not yet known, for it is their secret and will never be revealed and that is why they have work. but they rather pull on one oops one explanation for carefreeness and one more wasted life and some gel on the head, today will go well, today is her day, she will get some tip. she will add tip to other tips and some day will rally enough to race off on her bike, she does not yet own a bike. stands at the counter, bows over to hear, she thinks it is precisely how she will bend when she will be in balance power but does not think because she smiles at tourists who want more for their money will dip their readers on spectacles in her and there are whole books on what to see and still are all here and at sights and somehow they manage to be at both places at once and there is no end to them and they keep breeding and creep and will dip readers in sauces for their money will do and devour as well in order to preserve experience. with a tiny tiny knife she scrapes entrails off animals off her catch off vertebrates adapted to circumstances they presumptuously took space under other spaces and she speeds up turning them and her mind and looks around hiding self from her boss is in line in colony and on her forehead oops skillfully adds a sack for purpose and her self on the counter scrapes scales with arms up to elbow glowing with excitement scrapes from surface to sack repeats arm movement up to elbow back forth swells with pleasure slime determined to go all the way for she can and may think to herself with belonging arousal she could do some more for armor for out there in front of her a luminous stomach inflated in front of her takes a shallow breath cuts deep in middle in lazing symmetry of the familiar tilts lifts dislocates shoulder flippers stabs her self in entrails of creature she now buries arms as far as goes and says a bit more her fingers reach rub against strings leans draws underprop withdraws this is that freedom and these are those rights and dismisses risks no longer looks around cautious careful look now anxiously snapping spinal cord nervous fibers pulls her heart has no role and leads and leaves gills for she is not violent and is oops.
left ajar we open when tell each other about monsters and why we do that and cover, gently squeeze in boxes short of matchers we hid for fun and they shall evermore smell of menthol we play with petrol for we shall go in sun set to sit on side walk.
we speak more and more quietly if possible whisper and lift wind and draw pillars narrow shoulders pits soft when world hardens.
we pass to each other feel all body feels before head head in a body, scattered from desire to please with strict gaze among shelves milky ice house soundlessly past majority not comforted through most of sharp edges to seeked for, differences are seen in an inconspicuous place is pleasant i go there she moves in clearly distinguishable, upstairs they scream what ever, downstairs care walks.
we spill sweet juices when our hands are tired when awareness stings, and we laugh.
ten thirty and we go from beginning, keep quiet and speak and speak about keeping quiet and keep quiet about nothing and return bitches nomadic without shelter need to keep each other safe no one can hurt us cannibalism on the rise persists, later on that matter will still be here.
we are in eternal fear for our lives, each in her own under pass in her own alley we think each of other think of bare survival of each and other, we do not think of love and better, we think of vital functions, pressures, pains and inflammations, precisely that we also live.
they ask us about scene and events, we answer with shrugs and think of rheumatism of other. they tell us about amino acids and eco pesticides and iron, we stare ahead and think of glands of other. in evenings we seek ways new strategies, for at dawns we already know that previous are useless, fossils, skeletons with no cellular structures with no functions detached from reason from humane thoughtfulness of the free, perverse noble mold, old world keeping fresh, watered and fertile practicing rotation burnt oil in engine roars, but is not on dangerous substance list, we allow it and think of burns of other.
we are casual and write about horror, hoping to emphasize sufficiently, it is exceedingly insconspicuous, subtle gentle eel at some bottom, so we describe dread directly with all symbolism known to humans to see and understand we repeat ever more give same hard time with case studies while ladies behind lecterns speak about how it was in their times, we have no task, no function, invited to projects, while we hope the other gets some sleep.
we are refined with finesse coated with creams ointmented polished ruffled, we are ladies, so we meet in a café with cloths on tables we have coffees and notebooks just in case, we bend upright in chairs utterly serious we grin in face of fear we say that no one can hurt us. we discuss non events, we work for them and do not want. we help each other. we spend time speaking about first rate wheelchairs, furious over trivial maladroit concepts, agree to some day be rich, for we will need wheelchairs after some kind neighbour lady breaks our legs, because we have it all, mangles our spinal cords, because we stand on open fractures, crushes pelvises sells out colons hollow dresses stomachs furrowed necks, over looks appendix, still we claim she got nothing on us.
on the other side of city very close to here we have no idea what we are doing. we think to each self and all the time. we are in illusion and so will remain and battles echo and we insist. we would rather not have swords and on the other side of city would rather be on this side of city and is completely irrelevant, of whom, these days we are deaf.
yesterday we showed each self on paper and in light. i showed how it matters. then we asked to show interest, while we told each self that we will not and that from now on we would only speak when hearing.
relations are flammable substances and burn fifteen minutes and can not be held. some times they can not let go. then it is new year and each newly established and each their own way and no one knows no thing and each is in their shelter and all who reject tranquility with thrust are out there. it is not known and is consolidated. that it is new year and beginning and that before it was none and early rises were also not and no feudalism and writing by hand. certainly no sex and walking was closer together. meanwhile vermin shamble, we sleep on tick gloria plays all shines some one dominates other wise sex is all over the place, and side walks are becoming narrower.
i like kissing you, manure.
we often miss each other. that is when we are aggressive and strongest, as we are aggressive and strongest at work, as it is the only we have known for centuries and we know nothing about us sometimes we know and guess each other and each time are wrong except when we admit to each other that we know all and observe each other since ever when we ripped each other from registers batch files series and circles and streams of eternal dance of joy and puke sick we became from eternal dance strident steps and figures formations sounds of hurdy gurdy they drew hard and they danced around at support walls eyes bulged breasts slaughtered and presences rubbed stealing stiffling air storing in stomachs and we often miss each other. that is when we are aggressive and strongest, as we are aggressive and strongest at work, as it is the only which we know for centuries and we know nothing about us sometimes we know and guess each other and each time are wrong except when we admit to each other that we know all and observe each other since ever when we ripped each other from registers batch files series and circles and streams of eternal dance of joy and puke sick we became from eternal dance strident steps and figures formations sounds of hurdy gurdy they drew hard and they danced around at load bearing walls bulged eyes slaughtered breasts and rubbed presences stealing stiffling air stored in stomachs and shoulder patting crows densely stuffed with no wings for great effects peck at occiputs rake braids and bobs indistinct shapes draw tiny holes make a nest in a cave shelter from new birds of prey rabid bitches without collars left to inventiveness.
insane scientists we list patterns, articulation patterns horror test on self repetitions and tweaks details and lavender motifs in veiled salons smoke and inventions created in a cloud, post people drive around have no time to leave no address no drawers no cabinets no night sleep when arise no alarms not inventive this is art as world does not know it for space and supposedly already there in a word we are not here in censuses missing fields of identification no one knows us and are certain that they will fool realities, this show goes on.
and so we play parades while the nation enjoys in us confetti falling fanfare spitting excess, we observe those cubic shapes count and write with them we compose, all is inside them, language and analysis.
they are two jumping in a bed from back statically each can knock each with agreement or illusion they agree immovably thrusting one fringe through shell of other rubbed cleansed pesticides protective bolt all over complex installed bee … coming headlessly winging clink tiny heads into slices in glasses water bubbles condensing into walls bursting bursts up to top one under other from the side at bird’s eye faeces sees coming mirage is ash then neighbour approaches one skates with rubber wars more under her is not heard leaves still stare until she slams doors automatic will tan of voyeurism gray of inertia urban principles urban bins urban machines leading triumphs for no one knows how to shell sounds insist do not allow when again and again tires warn and exhaust and gears gurgle into same into pumpkin oil trickles from them used for healthy vessels heart pressure on masks buttons blushed not blushed becoming more furious
more coordinated then any owl we message each other wink pass tissues from fine hideouts and listen each so much would we love to understand nothing else we care about is why we are here, but are mute. that is when we sometimes hold each other we do not. ask each other what will be of where will we go where could we go if could if were better employees but are not and care less so do not go and imagine imagine from liquid asphalts look far and wear thin we go to the scene, wonderful.
bald patch treads with pompoms in massacre pulsated by slided seemingly no winds, insignificant in relation to the frightened, if there is gentleness is superfluous throughout the day.
© Nina Dragičević