Manafonistas

Loop me in. I am a looper. This could have been the first two sentences of a sometimes mentioned book which will never be published. Lajla´s words. Black marks. At the flea market you recognize him by his white rain coat. Ego Dumping. Cosmetic psychiatry. I entered the students´ self-organized coffee-bar in a white rain coat ´cause I wanted to see him again. He had black hair and a plaid dish towel thrown over his shoulder. I supported him serving the guests. We did not get money for this. We did not talk. We never talked much. Sometimes it´s not a world for words. My name is Williams. I am a looper. I do not repair things. I do not need sundays. Those days I did not write in my diary. Sometimes I used to visit a flea market, hand in hand with my beloved. This is a real story. I am a looper or a collector of sounds and old fashioned devices. My name is Basinski. This is a letter to Tom. Last night I was drunk and I took an Edding and wrote on a lamppost. I was here until my rain coat got black. To think and to forget is the same.