I had a recurring dream: I saw myself at the foot of a huge mountain, so high and boundless that my legs grew limp. The mountain was frightfully big. It was so big that I began to sweat and crumble like dried bread. Its summit disappeared into the blue sky. The summit was high. So high that I was entirely bent and fell apart like bread in milk. I couldn´t do anything about the mountain. It stood there. And waited for me to look at its summit. That was all it wanted from me. But I couldn´t raise mu head. How could I? I was all stooped and crumbling. But the mountain really wanted me to look. I understood that if I didn´t look, I´d crumble altogether and turn into bread pudding. I took my head in my hands and began to lift it. It rose, and rose, and rose. And I looked, and looked, and looked at the mountain. But I still couldn´t see the top. Because it was high, high, high. And it ran away from me something terrible. I began to sob through my teeth and choke. I kept lifting my heavy head. Suddenly my spine broke and I collapsed into wet pieces and fell backward. That´s when I say the summit. It shone WITH LIGHT. The light was so bright that I disappeared in it. This felt so awfully good that I woke up.
– Vladimir Sorokin, The Ice Trilogy: BRO (via ranchocarne)
I had a recurring dream: I saw myself at the foot of a huge mountain, so high and boundless that my legs grew limp. The mountain was frightfully big. It was so big that I began to sweat and crumble like dried bread. Its summit disappeared into the blue sky. The summit was high. So high that I was entirely bent and fell apart like bread in milk. I couldn´t do anything about the mountain. It stood there. And waited for me to look at its summit. That was all it wanted from me. But I couldn´t raise mu head. How could I? I was all stooped and crumbling. But the mountain really wanted me to look. I understood that if I didn´t look, I´d crumble altogether and turn into bread pudding. I took my head in my hands and began to lift it. It rose, and rose, and rose. And I looked, and looked, and looked at the mountain. But I still couldn´t see the top. Because it was high, high, high. And it ran away from me something terrible. I began to sob through my teeth and choke. I kept lifting my heavy head. Suddenly my spine broke and I collapsed into wet pieces and fell backward. That´s when I say the summit. It shone WITH LIGHT. The light was so bright that I disappeared in it. This felt so awfully good that I woke up.
– Vladimir Sorokin, The Ice Trilogy: BRO (via ranchocarne)
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