Now-here, After There

Intermittent diary of me as a fly on the wall in Nowhere, and a record of a plausible existential experience of some the actual flies around us.

 

The lead-up to a festival that doesn’t like calling itself a festival was marked by serious conversations and unhidden apprehension about what this non-self-identifying event would entail.

 

My own identifications are not particularly strong, but when measured against others – I wondered whether they would suddenly stand out. As a contrast to the culture in which I was about to immerse myself, I felt certain things about me might be unusual. Mostly because the event attracts unusual people, and, comparatively, as a mostly straight, mostly monogamous, cis-female who lives most certainly on-grid, I sound atypically typical.

 

So, why was I going in the first place? Well, because of my monogamous straight relationship, of course. Together, Joe and I would be camping in the Nazi-cum-global-taxi-app sounding “barrio”, or campsite community, Übertown. It isn’t exactly like the cab company however, as they insist on using the highly un-user-friendly Umlaut on almost every single U and similar enough looking letter they can punch their dots on.

 

Before going, Joe informed me that the local double-sided A4 newspaper, Apocalypse Post, was calling for submissions. Being a recent entrant to the clan, I thought my most valuable contribution would be as fly on the wall. I could act as alien observer, shedding light on the unconventional goings-on of those heady individuals passively accepting the ways of their very principled and participatory, but temporarily constructed world. Alas, conformist I became, and it was not long before I too normalised the environment of this transient Netherland. Not just that, I found my role as a would-be fly on the wall was already somewhat redundant. Not just in terms of the ease of company I found there, removing my objectivity, but in the unignorable abundance of real flies – albeit without any true walls. I therefore ended up actually participating, as well as writing other articles. Upon my return, however, I feel this one still needs airing.

 

Left to occupy a more meta-niche than I anticipated, I transformed into a fly-on-the-chair silently witnessing the not-so-silent flies in the air. With the premature obsolescence of my intended position, came the birth of a new one. There is no need for my own diary but to tell the presumed tales lesser told: those of the flies around us.

 

So here it is, a bug’s perspective on the annual blip in the ecological calendar (Leave No Trace except the insects have memories): The Monegros’s desert’s Burning Man Southern European Offshoot Event, Nowhere festival.

 

A fly

 

One assumes that just because you’re called a fly, you can do just that. Well, I can, but add thirty tonnes of aerial pulverised stone into the air and blow it at gale force winds and see how that affects your aviation skills. And these grains of sand aren’t so small, to me at least, and a few trillion others my size. Even one chunky speck can match the radius of my eyeball. So next time you think I’m weak to avoid flying in these dust storms? Try trampolining in a golf course with seven thousand golfers driving their balls towards you every second. I don’t live long enough to need replacement eyes.

 

A moth

 

This is my idea of heaven. Or it would be except I want to go everywhere at once. A flutter to the left of me, a branch of sparks illuminating the night, a flutter to the right, another wondrous and somewhat indiscernible sight. A little moth once told me there is a place in New York like this, where beams of light radiate from every angle you can turn. Bliss! I never thought as a desert moth I would see what city moths do. Never mind the overstimulating and overwhelming exhaustion, I’ve had so little in these last few days of my entire existence, I can take it. Give me these neon shapes with no clear form or description, give me it all. Oh, what a light. Is it me you’re looking for? Like a lighthouse signalling to ship, here I come! There is a blast in the air of something so powerful it overwhelms my senses. But it disappears before I get there. I can only feel heat where the light once was. A series of humans are spinning their own lights so fast I cannot possibly reach them in time. I watch from above, in the cloud of heat that is left behind. I hear a whoosh. Is it the blast I once saw? Here it….

 

[record ends abruptly]

 

A cricket

 

What in God’s name is that infernal racket? I have had to jump all the way over to green zone to even get a chirrup in. Every night for nights on end, the ceaseless thumping. These mindless noises. How’s anyone supposed to find a mate over this incessant noise?

 

A mosquito

 

There is simply nothing quite like it. Moving flesh mountains everywhere I turn. Sucking and penetration is what I do best, and we’re all consenting adults here, right? I land on a particularly throbbing piece of moist skin. Blood right at the surface, the vein is practically pointing at me. A river of blood flows beneath this thin layer of salty skin. I take a gulp and move on. Beats the cattle hides nearby whose tails can whip me out of the air. Noone seems to notice my presence, but I do notice some other whip like objects. Better avoid those. I land again on a neighbouring buttock. This time the gulp inoculates me. The drink makes me queasy. I think it’s spiked. I better rest a while on this soft mound.

 

[Mosquito is spanked to death, accidentally. Blood splats back onto its original owner. RIP]

 

A bluebottle

 

I know everyone hates me. You are what you eat and I eat shit. Life’s not fair. I’m just calling attention to what everyone wants to ignore. Whatever, I’ll just hide in these loos. Everything I need here. Almost a bit too much. I’ll sit in my dark corner, alone and think about shit. I’ll have a meal whilst I’m at it. Ah crap, someone’s coming in with me. Trying to waft me away? Fine. I’ve had enough of this place anyway.

 

Ok. Leaving is not as easy as I thought. Holy crap, was there something in that shit? My 3D vision isn’t the best at the best of times, but things are getting pretty warpy out there. My world is closing in. I didn’t realise I was such a lightweight – what was in that shit? I can see so many geometrical patterns. It’s like I’m seeing from 8000 hexagons at once all around me in slow motion. Oh wait, that’s just my eyes. Ok, emergency over. Mmm.. is this fresh food?