just now!
What is that
that I said
just now?
What
was I
actually
saying
just now?
What was it
that was
being said
just now?
If I only knew
what I
said
just now!
What
was that
actually
that I was
saying
just now?
Even while he is asking himself these questions, he, like the other Kaspars, begins to giggle and the like. At the same time the prompters sing his previous verses to the end. Kaspar, for instance, is snap — ping his finger against the microphone, producing a whine. All the Kaspars, while the prompters are singing, finally emit genuinely infectious laughter. Finally, sighing and giggling, the speaking Kaspar and the other Kaspars gradually grow quiet. The audience hears two or three of them filing their nails.
Kaspar in front says:
Every sentence
is for the birds
every sentence is for
the birds
every sentence is for the birds
There is silence.
He begins to speak without versifying.
A spotlight is on him.
I was proud of the first step I took, of the second step I felt ashamed; I was just as proud of the first hand which I discovered on myself, but of the second hand I felt ashamed: I felt ashamed of everything that I repeated; yet I felt ashamed even of the first sentence I uttered, whereas I no longer felt ashamed of the second sentence and soon became accustomed to the subsequent ones. I was proud of my second sentence.
In my story I only wanted to make a noise with my first sentence, whereas with my second sentence I wanted to call attention to my — self, and I wanted to speak with the next sentence, and I wanted to hear myself speak with the next sentence, and with my next sentence I wanted others to hear my speaking, and with the next sentence I wanted others to hear what I said, and with the next sentence I wanted others who also uttered a sentence not to be heard, and used only the next to last sentence to ask questions, and began only with the last sentence of the story to ask what the others had said, the others who were ignored while I said my sentence.
I saw the snow and attacked the snow. Thereupon I said the sentence: I want to be a person like somebody else was once, with which I wanted to express why the snow was biting my hands. Once I woke up in the dark and saw nothing. Thereupon I said: I want to be a person like somebody else was once, with which I wanted to express, first of all, why is it that the whole room has been moved away, and then, because I did not see myself, why have I been cut off from everything that belongs to me, whereupon, because I had heard someone, namely myself, speaking, I said once more: I want to be a person like somebody else was once? — with which I wanted to express that I would have liked to have known who else was making fun of me while I was speaking. Then once I took a look into the open, where there was a very green glow, and I said to the open: I want to be a person like somebody else was once? — and with this sentence I wanted to ask the open why it was that my feet were aching. I also noticed a curtain that was moving. Thereupon I said, but not to the curtain: I want to be a person like somebody else was once, and with that I wanted to say, but not to the curtain, I don’t know to whom, why are all the table drawers out and why does my coat always get caught in the door. I also heard someone climbing stairs which creaked, and thereupon I said to the creaking that I want to be a person like somebody else was once, with which I wanted to express when will my head feel lighter again. Once I also let my plate fall to the floor, but it did not break, whereupon I exclaimed: I want to be a person like somebody else was once, with which I meant that I was afraid of nothing in the world, whereupon I said once more: I want to be a person like somebody else was once, with which I wanted to make comprehensible that something probably could make me afraid, for example a cracked icicle; and once I felt no more pain, and I shouted: I want to be a person like somebody else was once, with which I wanted to say to everyone that I finally felt no more pain, but then I felt pain once more and I whispered in everyone’s ear: I want to be a person like somebody else was once, with which I wanted to inform everyone that no, on the contrary, I felt no more pain and that everything was all right with me, with which I began to lie; and finally I said to myself: I want to be a person like somebody else was once, and wanted to know with that what that sentence, which I said to myself, what it actually means.
Because the snow was white and because snow was the first white I saw, I called everything white snow. I was given a handkerchief that was white, but I believed it would bite me because the white snow bit my hand when I touched it, and I did not touch the handkerchief, and when I knew the word snow I called the white handkerchief snow: but later, when I also knew the word handkerchief, when I saw a white handkerchief, even when I uttered the word handkerchief, I still thought the word snow, because of which I first began to remember. But a brown or gray handkerchief was not snow, just as the first brown or gray snow I saw was not snow, but the first gray or brown that I saw, for example animal droppings or a sweater. But a white wall was snow, and just as much as absolutely everything became snow when I looked into the sun for a long time, because I then saw only snow. Finally I even used the word snow, out of curiosity, for something that was not white, to see whether it would turn to snow because of my uttering the word snow, and even if I did not say the word snow I was thinking it and remembered at every sight if not the snow itself at least the word snow. Even while falling asleep or while walking along a country lane or while running in the dark I kept saying the word snow all the time. But finally I reached the point where I no longer believed not only words and sentences about snow, but even the snow itself when it lay there in front of me or was falling, did not believe any more and held it neither for real nor as possible, only because I no longer believed the word snow.
The landscape at that time was a brightly colored window shutter. As of the time that I saw the shadow a chair cast on the floor, I have from that time on always designated a fallen chair on the floor as the shadow of a chair. Each movement was running because at that time I wanted to do nothing but run and run away from everything; even swimming in the water was running. Jumping was running in the wrong direction. Even falling was running. Every liquid, even when it was calm, was a possible running. When I was afraid, the objects ran very quickly. But nightfall at that time was becoming unconscious.
When I did not know where to turn next, it was explained to me that I was afraid when I did not know where to turn, and that is how I learned to be afraid; and when I saw red it was explained to me that I was angry; but when I wanted to crawl away to hide I was ashamed; and when I leapt into the air I was happy; but when I was near bursting I had a secret or was proud of something; and when I nearly expired I had pity; but when I knew neither left nor right I was in despair; and when I did not know what was up or down I was confused; but when my breath stopped I was startled; and when I became ashen-faced I was afraid of death; but when I rubbed my hands together I was satisfied; and when I stuttered it was explained to me that I was happy when I stuttered; when I stuttered I was happy.