Daydream

Translated by: Bárbara Ferreira

On a certain night, while walking through every corner looking for his supper, a little country mouse found himself face to face with a peculiar edifice: an abominable building, twenty floors high, made of cheese, composed of ample holes. Curious and starving, the little mouse came closer to his good fortune. While enjoying the cheese which integrated the wall of the first floor, he started hearing unhappy grunts. Uneasy, he decided to peek through one of the little architectonic holes and, discretely, observed the argument of a couple around the dinner table.

“After so much sweat dripped, this is the prize we receive. We are replaced because of our aged appearance. Little do they know that the fault for our wrinkles and our white hairs comes from the famine and the life we lead….”. That whole speech was a semantic noise for the little mouse, but nothing could stop him from decoding the non verbal language of those beings. Their bodily agitations and the shared cries gave away their true essences— they were apparently around fifty years old; however, in reality, they were only thirty years old. They were apparently safe since they had a roof covering their heads; but, in reality, they shared bread crumbs. The little mouse got hold of this dissonance, but, since he could do little to contribute, he decided to continue his feast — if it hadn’t been for his great findings, that night he too would be eating leftovers.

The soft construction material of the building facilitated the little rodent’s climb. Floor after floor, the quality of the cheese increased and its intense odour released an olfactive trail which motivated the little one to completely reach it. While he climbed, he always kept the same ritual: tasted, listened for noises, peeked through the holes of the cheese and returned to his indifferent position. This continuous succession of events transgressed the little one’s status of spatial invader and, gradually, homogenized with the oppressor space — which never, but never, would be occupied by him with such normality.

Over his long path, he collected an extensive interior spectrum (from the most miserable to the most refined ones). He noticed that, unlike the upper floors, the first ones lacked natural light and an aesthetic sense — the divisions were filled with furniture made of rotten wood, ripped sofas and trinkets. He understood, at last, that the closer the sunlight is, the more illuminated the inhabitants’ life. Around here, the conversations were much more pleasant and, at the dinner tables, much more than bread crumbs was eaten.

When reaching the twentieth floor, and because he did not have any more to climb, the little one decided to rest. With the panoramic perspective, he caught sight of some uncontrolled ants and a political sign, outsized, which quoted a sentence in caps lock “EVERYTHING YOU EAT YOU HAVE TO PAY FOR”. Suddenly, every tenant of the eaten building came to their windows, looked up and repeated in unison the sentence from the sign. Never before had the little mouse seen so much hate in one place; so much pressure — coming even from the thirty year old couple.

What an acute pain that little county mouse felt watching the urban mess. His will was to faint right there, in the middle of all his dreams and aspirations. The idea that the first time he had the privilege of enjoying a luxurious meal tainted his eternal debt sickened him. On top of that, he hated that his micro stomach had been infected by gluttony. It was such a Babylon that the poor creature started vomiting and, to his surprise, what he was expelling from his insides was concrete. As much as he squeaked, no one understood his pain. All that he wanted was to return home and forget this citadine episode — and so he did.

The problem of those who are oppressed by the city is not understanding that, just like the Emmental cheese needs the bacteria in order to create its holes, the metropolis also needs a vast group of people — being intrusive bacteria or not — in order to be complete. Inside of this hierarchical system, every citizen shares a characteristic in common — the obscure faces of the City of Dreams, revealed by interior loopholes (pain and ostentation) which meet from being to being and are calmed down by the loss of class conscience.