Chapter 50 phantoms come

I handed it over to Midnight Publishing House in June 1984.Then I made a film, and then the filming started, and then I wrote Pain by hand, and then I got sick. The day Pain came out, I was in the hospital and Jan brought me Poirot-Delpeche's review while I was on artificial respiration.This time I lost my mind for a week, just like the one in April 1985.I was on the verge of killing a young female nurse.The plot was clear: that night, when Jan came home, I gave him some of my rings to take away in order not to be stolen in the hospital, as happened often.I said to him, that's it, at night, Yang went to my house, took the ring, and lived there.In the middle of the night, the female nurse was supposed to come to treat me, but she didn't.I waited for her until two or three o'clock in the morning.Then, delirious, but it is clear, indisputable, certain: the nurse and some of her so-called colleagues went to the Rue Saint-Benoit, killed Jan, and took my ring. .

① Poirot Delpeche, French critic. After dawn, I opened the window of the ward, and I shouted that I was going to kill someone, come quickly.Nothing happened.Later someone told me that I heard it when I called.I yelled again, I kept begging, and there was no response. The next morning, when the nurse came, I was hiding under the sheet with a knife I had brought from home.The female nurse screamed.I screamed at the same time, I was going to die, someone killed me.Came a care.He was terrified.Swooped on me and snatched the knife away - I got cut too. From there, I believe I "knew" that the "doctors" at the hospital had me hijacked.After about a few hours, I negotiated with them, saying how they will get the ransom, whom to call, and the amount quoted should not be too large, and a considerable amount must be determined according to the market value of my sinful business.

All this nonsense, I can't remember clearly now, but what can be said is that the logic is very clear, and the ring and murder run through the plot.I was firmly nailed to this logical obviousness and could not escape. The onset of emphysema can also cause confusion: lack of oxygen in the brain, derailment, and neurosis.A week before my onset, there was a young man in the hospital who spent the whole afternoon as a referee for a football match.After giving him oxygen, he was fine.The doctor laughed for a long time at a set of proverbs he had uttered.But I'm scared, very scared.It is very scary for others to tell you about yourself, what you said and did when you lost your mind.Alcoholism delirium, during the course of treatment, I can't remember clearly, only a little bit.I did talk to the court while in a coma, but I was often in a coma for a few seconds.On the contrary, I remember the hallucinations after the treatment very well.The hallucinations began in American hospitals.

"Song of India" becomes a boat.It doesn't matter, just repeat it here.The captain's woman lived on the chimney of the fireplace on the opposite roof.She was a fair-haired woman with a ruddy complexion and two blue eyes.She just sticks her head out of the chimney.The captain was two meters away from her, in the chimney of another fireplace.He was in the same situation as his woman, squeezed in the chimney.One day, a strong wind blew up and the woman's head shattered like glass.I was very angry when I saw it.There are tens of thousands of tortoises arranged in a precise pattern like a book around the roof.At night, Turtle must go back to the place under the gutter.These images are clearer than reality, as if glowing from within.It takes many hours for these many turtles to get ready for the night, sliding down one by one.It annoys me too that the composition of nature should be so mean and crude.It took such a long time and such difficulty for the turtles to get into position that many turtles huddled in place all day.

Among these "reminiscences", there is also a high-ranking official in Asia wearing a gold-embroidered blue costume. He walks through the aisles of the hospital, expressionless, taciturn, and very scary.Whether it was at the La Eneck Hospital or the American Hospital, I can't remember, but no one seemed to have seen such a person, maybe not.I also saw Michael Richardson in the American hospital, standing behind the open window in the "Song of India" house, surrounded by flowers and vines, smiling and crying at the same time, this is a man who was killed The prisoner of the closed story, a very beautiful man.In front of the house, against the wall, stood the famous black Abyssinian cow, bony, and beside it, a large Chinese chair, red and gilt, and these two things were moved to On the Ney sidewalk, then forgotten there.Around the corner of a wall, some nights, Michael Lonsdale also appears, in a Koutuin costume, crying to me.

The most astonishing of all visions also appeared at night when I returned home.The singing, the chorus came from the inner courtyard surrounded by the building. I looked at that place and saw many people gathered there. Different people were divided into several groups. They were all here to protect me. Protect me and don’t let me To die—that was for sure.Some were also carrying spears.These people were talking about someone, no doubt a child named "Gautier."I remember a remark, half-yelled and half-yelled with unforgettable tenderness, on the stairway of the building at midnight, about: "They have only to touch little Gautier, me, and I shall die."

There are a lot of people living in our apartment these days.In the bathroom, there was a woman and a dead child wrapped in a white cloth, and the woman was standing behind the toilet with the child in her arms.She just stood there, and in the end, I stopped paying attention to her.There were also men, five of them, who went to Jan's room at night.These are real people, walking around and talking.Their bodies were stuffed into light balls of crumpled newspaper.There was also the Beast under the table, and the famous dwarf with the pig's tail, whom some called the "Gorgon."There was also a bust of a woman in faience, called the French Republic, which stood on a shelf by my desk.There was a man who lived near Jan's room, a very scary man, and he was watching me.I live with the blaring ringing of the phone, the phone ringing non-stop.I found that the telephone switchboard was located in the courtyard, in the maid's room on the seventh floor, and it was the enemy's special telephone.The neighbor across the door stole my phone line, I can be sure of that, I have proof.Around my room, the ringing of telephones formed a circle, which I found extremely unusual.The scariest thing was what happened every day inside the apartment; there was a dead dog hanging behind my heater.The dog, besides, I couldn't tell whether it was a bird or a duck.I believe I have not slept for days and nights.I didn't feel sleepy at all.I probably didn't sleep at all during this period of time, I was awake all the time.

① That is, Mariana mentioned below, Mariana is regarded as a symbol of the French Republic. Because of rats, some animals, it's happening again.In the middle of the night, mice animals and more abound.Jan heard a noise: I immediately put on my shoes, picked up my umbrella, chased away the mice, and just like that, it happened again.I'm delirious: everything is staged to the constant accompaniment of Wagner's operas.The shouts of the German police were heard again.Next, Yang followed M. D． ① learned from the book, the unusual episode of shooting the Jews in front of the window appeared.And the Negroes, the women, in the parlour... all these multiplied and multiplied, and there were no counts.If you want me to describe, not list, I say: a group of blacks and Jews in the living room have sworn allegiance to the Nazis, and at this time some friends of my Moldavian doctor are sitting on the red recliner with the red recliner in front of them. One day hasn't shown up here yet, and they're about to buy this apartment where I live, which the Moldavian doctor finally didn't get his hands on, so they didn't sell it either.In the midst of this chaos, there were also a few cats, all quiet throughout the day, and I was the only one who saw them going to and fro in the apartment.

① That is Margaret Durra, the author himself claims to be. Suddenly I came back to reality.I still remember, that nutmeg sauce that Michel Manceau made.I gobbled it all up.Later, the hallucinations subsided little by little.German police evacuated from nearby platforms, as did the men who had stuffed Jan's room with newspapers.The man in my son's room, the man with the curly gray hair, white as powder, and blue eyes with glazed eyes, hasn't gone, hasn't disappeared.There are still a few hunters that have not disappeared.The last, I think, was Mariana, the most unbelievable and ridiculous one, who still wore her Lorraine haircut, an object of patriotism and shame, which still remained. On the little bookshelf in my room - God only knows how it got there.Coincidentally, a week earlier, at the beginning of April 87, the statue of Mariana had been placed on the mantelpiece of an apartment on Rue Bonaparte, which had several windows facing the common patio.I don't believe I've ever seen it.The statue in the vision, which I could make out, was set upon a fireplace framed by a window that could be opened.A doctor once told me: As time goes on, I will see everything in the past again.In the state of delirium, all kinds of things appear, all of which I have experienced or seen in my life. He said that all of these come from real memories.Among them, there is only one thing, until now I am still afraid of it appearing again at night.It is clearly nothing but can be seen, no one will believe it, and even the effect produced by the end of reality may be reproduced.Even the color of eyes, hair, and skin can be reproduced.I don't know anything about Wagner's music, but I can recognize it.I said to Young, if this situation lasts for half a month, I will have to die, I have no other choice.Why can't you bear it?The basis for living is decreasing day by day, why can't I bear it?This is of course because man, only he can see what he sees, just as man is only used to think what he thinks.But all of a sudden, the mind is going its own way, revealing itself, seeing for itself, thoughts appearing on the screen like capital letters, and then, knowing that no one will believe you, even if I try to "get away" those cats by whispering to myself.Later, I also knew that the person who loves you will soon be unbearable and have to leave you.The doctor said that there must be many people around you, new strangers, many people surrounding you.But sooner or later I shut myself in my room and lighted the lamp before I went to the animals that were waiting for me there, the pig under the table, Mariana on the bookshelf.The doctor has not allowed me to take any sedatives; I am surprised that the surrounding situation remains the same.All these throngs of visions were my own, not only unhindered, but no one forced them to appear.

One thing I forgot to mention: I once asked Jan to take down the dead dog that was killed by the Nazis while hanging from the heater, I asked him to throw the dog out of the window and slam it on the heads of passers-by: let them remember that someone Killed the Jews.I heard the voice.I watched him take the dog down and throw it out of the window, but all this did not make me doubt the realness of the dead dog.Michelle Poulter once made me suspicious when I happened to be in the kitchen of our house when she came in to meet me, hanging her coat on a hanger.We were chatting, and I told her all about my visions.She doesn't speak, just listens.I said to her, "I believe it myself, but I can't convince others to believe it." I also said, "Go and look in the right pocket of your coat hanging there. Look there is a newborn red baby But they all said I was mistaken." She looked at it seriously, then turned to face me, looked at me for a long time, and then said to me, very seriously, absolutely Without a smile: "Margaret, I swear to you by the person I love most in the world, I didn't see a thing." She didn't say there was nothing there, she said, "I didn't see a thing." In At this point, there may be some rationality mixed with madness.

①Marguerite Dura is the author of "Conversation with Michelle Poulter", which is attached to "Truck" (1977), and also authored "Margaret Poulter" with Michelle Poulter. Cura's Places" (1977). Later, one night, I asked Yang to drive out the curly-haired man with white powder on his face. He had already walked to the doorway, only two meters away from my room. I only heard a roar, Yang I was so angry that I couldn't control it - every night I was harassed by "people" who kept coming from the apartment building, and every time I woke up Jan - he yelled: "You have to know, I, I don't Saw nothing, nothing at all, did you hear? Nothing." He repeated, "Nothing, nothing, nothing." I was standing at the door of my room, and when Jan was yelling, I saw that The curly man walked up to him and I begged Jan to let him out.At this time, Yang stopped and didn't make a sound.The man in the black overcoat was completely ignorant of the scene.He took a few steps towards Yang.He stands down.His eyes were fixed on me the whole time.It was me that he was looking at, and the intensity of that passion made him pale and terrible.He paid attention to me, with a kind of painful resentment in his gaze: I don't look at him, I still cry, I still want to run away, what can he do?He didn't understand that I didn't understand what he wanted.As I write these words now, three years later, I can say that it is indeed relevant to me.Maybe he was determined to take me away, not necessarily my death.Maybe he came here to let me know where I belong, a destination that has been destroyed for thousands of years, which is precisely the reason I was born here.He was either a Jew, or he was my father.Or something else.It's someone else to be sure.And his identity is certain.After fifteen days, his identity remained unchanged.He lives in my house.For fifteen days he lived in the little room facing the street.His two big eyes are very blue, his hair is very curly, it is hair from another world, some parts of the hair are black, some parts are white, and it also belongs to another era.Yes, he must know something about me that I don't know.Not something I've forgotten, but something I should know.Right now, he's here, intermingled with the other visions, but he's the axis.He is the master, and around him, other illusions swirl around my being.He doesn't understand why I'm afraid of him.He saw that I was afraid, but he didn't know what I was afraid of.I also discovered an even more remarkable thing: I don't understand French either.I did not understand what I said to Jan.He had a lavender mouth that was tightly sealed.He was silent, not a word had been said for fifteen days.So why he came here day and night for many days, he didn't say, he didn't tell you.With him, I had to figure out why he had expectations.If I don't know him, it's because I don't want to know him.But it is impossible for me to know this.His eyes were always pure and straight ahead: I should know.However, it is impossible. Jan walked toward the door of the apartment house.I go back to my room.See nothing, see nothing.Jan opened the door and closed it again.He said to me, "Come out, he's gone." Finally he left.I cried for a long time in Jan's arms. I haven't told anyone about this until these days.It was as if a kind of spirituality had developed between him and me that lasted only a few seconds.I remember very well that empty feeling, it was true, and after the man left, I felt only guilty, when Jan and I, we were alone, that is, I should have talked to him, Explain it to him, but I can't help it, it's impossible, because I don't understand what he wants from me.