We had a garden...
And I had been doing stuff all day...
Some woman says:
"How long have the termites been up there in the trees?”
And before that someone else said:
"Those aren't termites"
And I look up and there are these things in which termites live...
Apparently...
That's not true...
Now I realize that there are little black bugs sticking to my hands and wrists...
And that my hands are all resinous from the trees, and brownly encrusted...
And there are also a few big bugs sticking to them...
And I think and think, and just try to flick them off and tear them off, scrape them off...
Of course it doesn't work because my hands are both sticky...
And I take a knife and try to scrape them off... properly...
In doing so I cut my index finger, on my left hand, the middle joint... which was all encrusted as well...
The wound was like a flap of skin loosely hanging there... basically like someone had chopped into it
And there were bugs everywhere, in all shapes and sizes...
And I was afraid that the wound might become infected...
Wanted to wash it...
Partially, I had to really scrape off the bugs under the running tap...
Some kind of fluid brown sludge, pretty viscous, which looks like vomit...
But the sink keeps getting fuller and fuller because less and less fluid is draining away...
And I sort of pick out all the stuff, all the stuff hanging in the drain...
Now, there's so much stuff floating in there...
Just all the... all the dead insects, all that dissolved resin from my fingers and blood and stuff...
And lots of stuff that somehow came out of me...
I just pick out all the stuff clogging the drain...
Like scraps of spaghetti with vomit lying in the drain...
The same way you remove things like that when you want to unblock the sink...
By putting your hand inside the drain or something like that and pinching it all between your fingers...
Because they're just like spaghetti but with patterns...
Like resistors... sort of yellow and red and green...
Repeated at intervals, with stripes, in different colors...
And electrical components...
Voltage regulators, diodes, et cetera...
More and more long strands in a variety of colors...
I'm kind of thinking: Huh? I know what that is...
Those are my DNA molecules...
I had decided to let them dry...
To put them on the table in order to let them dry...
And somehow while they were drying they assumed the shapes of ladders...
Little plastic ladders...
I laid them out and you could sort of insert them into one another...
Blue and yellow plastic ladders...
My DNA molecules...
Um...
I try to...
I wonder whether someone might want them...
I mean, we could sell them...
Then... Mark is sort of the first one to set eyes on these blue ladders...
And the first thing he asks is:
"How are you supposed to listen to this?
How are you supposed to listen to this?"
Me: "You can't listen to it
It's my DNA
Deoxyribonucleic acid"
In the porter's lodge of a parking structure...
I come across some madman who's bent on buying them...
But we haven't come up with a packaging yet...
How are you supposed to listen to this?