When this guy (i think his name was jerry) came towards her with this hey-i-know-my-job-attidude, maria exactly knew what to do. it had to be done, and she knew it. not even the slightest idea that there was anything else to do but take this expensive looking object, strangley formed like a bowl or a hat (depending on which side was up) and smash his disgusting and hideous face in. you could hear his cheekbones crack like buiscuits, the blood sprinkeling on the restaurants wall like a jack the dripper painting or splatter movie like… you know what i mean. maria had a deasease. it wasn´t serious for her, but more for others crossing the line she called her horizon. it was more shrunk to a point of view if you ask me, but do me a favour: don´t ask me. she became sick at the age of 19. she thougt it was a drug induced thing. but i know it was the combination of this film and that u2 track she downloaded in the loneliness of her birthdays afternoon. the sequence emerging from the combination of these two experiences smashed her sub-signature horrorshow and rebuilt her hole biocultural matrix. it was all timothys fault, as we will later learn. after maria had received over 45000 birthday-cards that day, she planned on killing herself. throwing herself off a builing or something, the very classical way as she explained. she often talked about the eroticism of seeing herself from above. when the soul entered space allowing a glimpse of that famous in-the-puddle-of-blood-one-leg-broken-to-the-side-gazing-to-the-sky picture you can only see when you youself die and the soul is abstracted about 15 meters into the air. she didn´t do it in the end and it wasn´t her choice anyway. the film she saw to that u2 song was “eraserblade”. she could not know that the combination of those two had severe consequences even on her physical life. it was more of a psychocultural jackpot, but in a bad way, but guess what: from now on she knew what to do. everytime. everywere. it was scary even for a person like maria, that never even WANTED to know how to act, or function in a specific way. there was not even a voice in her head from that day on, telling her what to do. it was almost like her body reacting to given situations. more like a bioaction, that dominated her life ever since. well, tell all that fancy stuff to that poor bastard lying on that restaurants floor. embedded in a puddle of blood, seeing in his last breath maria making a phonecall and then himself 15 meters off the action painted ground. you could see it her eyes. it was not her. after that brutal incident she hosted a tex-code for seconds, but still long enough to make that call that would have made history, if such a thing still existed. thats what tex-codes do when you don´t pay attention. only body now, allowing the srangest signatures to enter your precious, precious bubble other peope used to call life.
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