Columbia Library columns (v.33(1983Nov-1984May))

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  v.33,no.3(1984:May): Page 23  



Diary Leaves of a Stillbor7i                         13

her calling card which she sfipped into my hand in parting. This
card shall determine whether I came close to experience then in
order to be happy in today's reminiscence.

In all this the negative nature of the happy condition can be
seen: one does not recognize when one is in that state, whereas
the absence of the mood shows itself clearly. To have happiness
is no ttick, even the proverbial dummy can do that. But only the
fortunate can be happy, i.e. can seize, make use of and change luck
in order to feel happy, and that without having luck. What does
one need to be happy? Nothing external, or hardly an\'thing;
something one can smile at once a day; it may be something in¬
animate, or even a dog or a bird, in the best case a person who can
return the smile. But the main point is to be able to smile; how
simple it seems, but those are the basics. That's all. In addition,
perhaps to be able to caress something and feel it now and then
push against the hand, liking to be caressed.

A Forest Path in Midsumnicr

Outside early in the morning. In solitude, comforting beyond
description. Solitude? For her, to whom my ego is tied with a
thousand threads, I gather a bouquet of the most beautiful wild-
flowers, cyclamen, and bring them to her for the moment she
awakens. Surprised, she finally opens her big blue doll's eyes and
looks at the world, at me, at the flowers. Did her precious glance
touch me once and was it meant for me? \Miere is it this moment?
In my cursed memory and bores itself into my brain and keeps
repeating that I was happy then, could have been even happier,
had I but lived. \Miat then did I do? I know only too well what—
I pretended then and earlier and later "to be happy."

I saw how the others live and in order also to live 1 began to
play a role which partly I copied and partly made for myself. As a
dead person I tried to act out a life, my life. Like a boy who
secretly mimics the grownups' smoking, I gaped at the life of the
living and followed suit.
  v.33,no.3(1984:May): Page 23