Guy Goes Nuts

Hořejší Nábřeží (Upper Waterfront)

The thing is that Dore was in the middle of trying to write a short story and he was having difficulty writing it or even finding a subject that suited him. He seemed to always run into a wall every time he tried to write. At the moment of clarity, deliberation and desired proactivity, his enthusiasm deflated before he was able to start anything. Distraction, stress and anxiety always took over, and his writing would be put on hiatus for the time being.

But today was different or so Dore thought. This time he was determined to write something and would not let his procrastination detour his creative need to write. To write a great story. One that he could be proud of and maybe be that start of a collection of short stories that one day, he could publish. The idea intoxicated him.

He began speaking again knowing that it was being documented via audio that very moment. "To be a published author. How difficult could it be? I mean, if I had a great idea and wrote it in a way that was true in nature, including nuances and specifics true to the moment. How could that not interest a reader. A real life story, exactly as it happens."

Dore was fascinated by this idea. Not entirely sure how he thought of it and if it has been done before. "Surely it has. I mean Jack London must have met or even been Martin Eden at some point in time and Dostoyevsky must have been writing from his own experiences for Notes from the Underground. How else could they have written it so precisely."

As Dore continued reflecting on other pieces of literature and the substantiality of the authors inspiration, he again was torn from his creative concentration by a sudden strike of dehydration. His mouth and throat were very dry and he was in desperate need of something to drink. But with everything in his life, he had many different choices and was insistent on finding the best option for his current position. Leaving his creative inspiration behind, Dore began plotting his options for liquid refreshment.

He knew that there was a Potraviny (vietnamese run bodega) close by, actually right by his old flat he occupied for over 5 years. It was only a 3 minute walk from his current position at U železničního mostu, but he hated drinking out of plastic, and knew that that was the only choice there. Everything they sold there was in plastic.

Dore continued speaking into the recording, thinking that it might be of some interest later. He was not sure how or why, but something compelled him. "I would rather avoid hormone disruptors and cancer causing Bisphenol A in my water thank you very much. I do wish they would carry more bio containers. The world needs less pollution and plastic waste if I do say so myself."

Dore was very environmentally conscious and paranoid about poisoning his body with unnecessary chemicals. He would rather spend more to have something less contaminating than follow the ignorant trends of average consumers.

"Do I even have enough money for anything?" Dore thought suddenly.

Dore then opened the side pocket of his New Vista leather bag and after ruffling through a barrage of useless junk, he finds the metal box that carries his spare change. Amongst a clutter of other useless items in the tin including: a guitar pick, rolled paper tape measure, a miniature pare of scissors, a grey button from a grey cardigan, numerous euro cents and Czech koruna. Dore counted 24 koruna in one and two coins. Enough for some sort of refreshment, but he was not sure what at that moment.

The truth is that he was actually on his way to work and running late. His thirst could wait a little longer he supposed. So he decided to head to work and grab a fresh juice at a juice bar across the street from his office. They also use plastic cups there, but the benefit of fresh juice out numbers the negative effects of plastic in his mind. "They might even use recycled materials for their cups." He thought out-loud. "But isn't all plastic recycled material?" He shook his head trying to keep his concentration on track and not go into another tangent.

Dore then stops the recording cartridge, puts on his  electroacoustic transducers and starts heading down Nádražní towards the Na Knížec tram stop directly across from his old flat.

While walking he sifts through his music library cartridges, also cluttered and disorganised. It is full of various artists, his personal music and memo recording, plus a plethora of short stories, self help and music theory audiobooks.

"More and more choices." he thinks. "What would preserve my creative mindset right now? Maybe a short story by Roald Dahl? But that might confuse me. I also don't want to over stimulate my inspiration. I want to create something original and not be overly influenced by anothers story. Maybe some classical music will do me good." He finds his classical section and lands on Sergei Rachmaninoff's piano sonatas played by Nareh Arghamanyan. As he continues on his way to Na Knížec the first track, Sonata No. 2 in B flat minor, Opus 36 - Allegro agitato begins to play.

As the first stanza plays, Dora feels his eyes roll up into his head with great ecstasy. He adored classical music, especially that of Rachmaninoff. Dore was now so engulfed in the music that he did not even pay any attention to his surroundings. If he would have, he would have seen something very interesting, but as it was, he did not. He just continued on his way towards Na Knížec.