KARL’S NIGHTMARE

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Les Comptes de Korsakoff

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I’m falling and drowning at the same time.
I open my eyes, wanting to see what’s killing me.
In the putrid mist, I perceive malicious figures.
Colours that were friendly once are now mixing up and drowning me
Strips of rainbow coil up to strangle me
Assassin blue, bitter yellow, fiendish purple, toxic green… 
RED! I only want red ! 
I curl up in all this red, to soften my falling down.
Suddenly, a sound.

Continuous, deep, everywhere. It stops. Only this sound, it grinds my concience down and creates harmonics to the memory of me. It splits, softens and fondles me. 
This speechless world with no colour is now, covered with sounds.
Shouts, melodies, rhythmic strokes, moaning sounds, Terrific sounds.

What can be done with such things as sounds?
 Where have I crashed? Which pit is it? Everything is meaningless… even my endless fall.
This nightmare runs off, comes back, goes aways again and again and again and again….
The lullaby is causing me distress, shrills and softness, mellow sounds, metallic cries…
RED! I only want red ! 
I curl up in all this red, to soften my falling down.
Suddenly, a sound.

Continuous, deep, everywhere. It stops. Only this sound, it grinds my concience down and creates harmonics to the memory of me. It splits, softens and fondles me. 
This speechless world with no colour is now, covered with sounds.
Shouts, melodies, rhythmic strokes, moaning sounds, Terrific sounds.

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