from 17th to 22nd October 2000
The moment in which I am writing this, due to various unfavorable circumstances, is in much later future from the moment about which I am writing, so this is the reason why most of my emotions related to the Second lesbian week are reduced to the so-called reasonable level, and this will not be a romantic or a mildly-romanticized novel, but only a newspaper article from four completely unrelated works. Except maybe somewhere ... in me.
/// A woman/// It took me a long time to get out of this word the pejorative intent that always clung to it. It took me the same amount of time to start identifying with her.
What, in fact, do I want to say? Actually, I want to say that the Lesbian week came too late for me. It is too late for all those years of inability to define myself, too late for all those years of frustration and of not belonging against which I fought with all my strength, but without a word. Always alone - against the unjust established norms and always alone - in a nameless longing for a soul mate that I knew was a woman, but I had a strong feeling that she was not perfect. And after hundreds of various workshops on similar topics, and this Lesbian week in Sombor, I finally realized that the person who was actually not perfect was –I.
The person who is not a 100% lesbian at the Lesbian week was actually me, including maybe a few more persons, but that was not my problem. I agreed to come to a gathering which is lesbian and it was great in that homogeneous environment but I did not want to that common name. I could not say that it was bothering me or that I have nightmares about it, but when it hit me (like a train) that every woman around me was deeply aware of the particularities of the situation I have lived in for decades, I experienced a blissful security, which I never felt before.
/// Lesbian /// It took me a long time to get out of this word the pejorative intent that always clung to it. How much will I need to identify with it - I do not know, but I know that the process has started.
I saw her eyes some years ago and I hopelessly remembered them - forever. At this Lesbian week my good memory proved to be useful, although I did not tell her about her eyes some years ago, and what it meant for me that she existed with such self awareness, so confident in the midst of this unpredictable universe, and why not – that I was so in love with her. As she spoke, it seemed that I was recognizing my own unspoken words. The way in which reality and her took on the knowledge of the world, often made my eyelashes watery. She was a flirt and nimble and witty and loving and warm ...that - I have no words for it. I remember that she was tempted, but she will never admit it (and she should not), but she was, I know it, in temptation ... to recognize me.
To be clear, they were all beautiful, each in her own peculiar way, so I speak about all of them as about one.
LESBIAN DAY AFTER
I walked down the street, watched people and I feel, somehow, more upright. In my pocket I had the Pussy manifest, I read it, for the hundredth time, while I waited for the green light. It was radical but gentle. Manifest. I suspected that a new concept was opening in layers in my mind. A series of new concepts created on the basis of only one, thousand times used and misused, word - PUSSY. Freed from the shackles from the dungeon, flashing around me on the lips of strangers. Incomprehensible number of meanings are given everyday to things when they are viewed differently. Today I feel free to say: This is me. And who are you?
I was able finish before the electricity went out, finally alone at the dinner table of my biological and straight family. The time is zero-zero fifteen - Wednesday. I will fall asleep and I maybe dream ...