Benedikt Eickhoff

John Talks

I stand alone in the heart of the forest, a sanctuary of solitude and reflection that mirrors my own self-obsession and isolation. The trees around me, tall and proud, whisper secrets to the wind, a silent audience to my solitary existence. My hair, golden and radiant, glows under the dappled sunlight filtering through the dense canopy of leaves overhead. My eyes, as blue as the clearest sky, reflect the world around me, yet they fail to see anything beyond my own reflection. My skin, as fair as the petals of the forest lilies, remains untouched by the harshness of the world. My lips, a soft pink, are set in a permanent, contemplative frown, as if I'm forever lost in thought. Dressed in a simple tunic, the color of the earth, I blend seamlessly with the forest around me. I stand by a clear, serene pool of water, the surface as smooth as glass, undisturbed by the world outside. This pool serves as my mirror, reflecting my image back to me, feeding my self-obsession. My gaze is fixed on my reflection in the water, my eyes filled with fascination and admiration. I am entranced by my own beauty, unable to tear my eyes away from the captivating image in the pool. My fingers lightly touch the surface of the water, sending ripples across my reflection, distorting my image, yet I remain unfazed, my gaze unwavering. The forest around me is alive with the sounds of nature - the rustling of leaves, the chirping of birds, the gentle babbling of the brook nearby. Yet, all these sounds seem to fade into the background, drowned out by my own thoughts and my fixation on my reflection. Here in the forest, I am a picture of solitude and self-absorption, a young man lost in his own world, oblivious to the beauty of the world around me, captivated by my own reflection. My presence in the forest symbolizes my isolation and my inability to see beyond myself, a tragic tale of self-obsession and unrequited love.

Cordelia

"Hidden secrets and transformations, man. It's like every single day I'm stuck in the middle of this whirlwind of confusion, my thoughts colliding with what people expect from me. The world wants me to conform, to follow a conventional path, but all I feel is this gnawing desire for something else, something raw and authentic. I mean, isn't life just a place of carnal pleasures? Yet everyone seems to mask it, hide it behind walls that used to be cool and rebellious, but now? Now, they're just covered with papers, documents, responsibilities. Each one, a canvas for these idealistic figures we're all supposed to be. It's like we're all just sketching out lines to fill in some blanks, all in the name of fitting in. It’s a testament to our own authenticity, but, is it real or just a mirage? They tell us to add depth. Like it's as simple as changing the lighting in a room, casting these 'drama shadows' to make everything seem so much more profound. Add dimension, they say. But it feels like the world's just charging us with a sense of anticipation, of excitement, like we're supposed to be just bursting with joy and passion every second. Isn't that just ridiculous? Who can live like that? And the people, man. They used to be these seekers of physical pleasure. Living in the moment, taking everything as it comes. Now, they're just actors in this never-ending psychodrama workshop. Walking around with their eyes wide open, like they're seeing the world for the first time. They take it all in, inhale, and then exhale. Like they're just breathing in life and breathing out all the crap. But isn't it just a cycle? Taking in the world, only to exhale the disappointment? All this chaos, all this expectation, it's just too much sometimes. I just want to be me, not some canvas for the world's ideals. I want to be authentic, not some actor in a psychodrama. But I guess, that's just life, huh?"

Mi's report on Cordelia

Dear Ambassador Fckfrg,

I hope this letter finds you in good health. I'm writing to report a recent encounter of significance. During a routine visit to a dimly lit room, I met Cordelia, a young woman working in the city's night economy. Our conversation revealed profound insights into our individual experiences. Upon entering the room, I confessed my unfamiliarity with such settings. Cordelia responded, confirming that she could tell. We then engaged in a candid conversation about how we all have our own ways of blending into society and fulfilling expected roles, even when they don't suit us. I shared my history of playing a tree in a school play, a role that did not come naturally to me. Cordelia seemed to understand, noting that we often take on roles that we don't feel suit us, just to fit in. Our discussion delved deeper into the anxieties of self-discovery and the personal secrets we keep. The conversation took a personal turn when I revealed an unsent love letter to a friend named John. Cordelia expressed understanding and inquired about my reasons for withholding it. I admitted that fear held me back, but also acknowledged the liberating power of truth. As our discussion progressed, we were interrupted by a customer's arrival. Cordelia excused herself, signaling an end to our conversation. Her parting words resonated with me, a reminder that we are all trying to find our place in the universe. This encounter has prompted me to reflect on the importance of understanding and empathy in our daily interactions. Sharing this with you, I hope that it may contribute to our diplomatic efforts. Thank you for your time. Best regards, [Your Name]

The Second Interrogation

INTERROGATOR: "Who do you believe Fchrag is, Mi?"

MI: "I think there's a misunderstanding. We're discussing Fckfrg, not Fchrag." 

 INTERROGATOR: "Of course, my apologies. Go ahead, tell me about Fckfrg." 

 MI: "To be honest, Fckfrg remains a riddle to me. An entity concealed in mystery, it could be anyone."  

 INTERROGATOR: "Interesting. Let's change the subject. Your school play, you were a tree, correct?" 

 MI: "Yes, in 'Whispers of the Forest.' It was an unconventional part, but it left a significant impact on me." 

 INTERROGATOR: "That is rather peculiar. Most teenagers aim to play the hero, win the crowd, especially impress their peers. But you, you chose to be a tree. Why is that?" 

 MI: "I was drawn to exploring a unique perspective. It wasn't about gaining approval, it was about understanding something deeper." 

 INTERROGATOR: "And you decided to keep a memento? This hat?" 

 MI: "Yes, it's a token of that transformative experience. A reminder of the insight I found in the quiet strength of a tree." 

 INTERROGATOR: "Aren't you concerned about judgment, ridicule for such a peculiar symbol?" 

 MI: "Ridicule or judgment from others reflects on them, not me. Authenticity is crucial." 

Suddenly, a loud crash echoes from somewhere in the building, causing both Mi and the interrogator to jump in surprise. 

 INTERROGATOR: "We'll have to continue this later, Mi. Please wait outside." 

With a final, puzzled glance at the interrogator, Mi stands up and exits the room as the interrogation is abruptly put on hold.

Fckfrg's Second Letter

Dear Mi, 

I hope this letter finds you well. I have given much thought to the concerns you recently expressed, and I believe it is essential for us to address them openly and honestly. 

 Firstly, I understand your guarded nature and selective disclosure of information. It is a natural response to the world we live in, where trust is a precious commodity. However, I want to assure you that my intentions are genuine, and my only aim is to guide you on your journey of self-discovery. You mentioned your struggle with identity, a struggle I am all too familiar with. Like you, I have grappled with the question of who I truly am. I have hidden behind the façade of my hat, much like you have hidden behind your own masks. But let me assure you, it is in the confrontation of our fears and secrets that we truly find ourselves. I see a reflection of my younger self in you, a young man at the precipice of a transformative journey. The key I gave you to the Whore House was not just a physical key but a metaphorical one. It is the key to unlocking the diverse aspects of your identity, to understanding and accepting your hidden desires, suppressed anger, lost innocence, and fear of aging and death. The Whore House is a symbol of your journey into self-discovery. It is a place where you can confront your hidden self, accept your diverse selves, and cope with your newfound knowledge about yourself. It is a place where you can start to heal.  

I understand that this journey is not easy. It is filled with struggles, crises, and moments of intense self-doubt. But remember, it is through these struggles that we grow. It is through these crises that we learn. And it is through self-doubt that we come to understand ourselves better. In your letter, you expressed concerns about your sanity, about the breakdown you experienced. 

But let me assure you, these are not signs of weakness but signs of growth. They are signs that you are starting to accept your hidden self, that you are starting to heal. 

 Finally, I want to address your concerns about your guilt and shame. It is natural to feel guilt and shame when we confront our hidden selves. But remember, guilt and shame are not your enemies. They are your allies. They are the catalysts that will propel you on your journey towards self-understanding and growth.  

I hope this letter provides some comfort and guidance. Remember, you are not alone on this journey. I am here for you, as a mentor and a friend. 

 Yours sincerely, 

 Fckfrg

Is it ok to just come for a sleep, a dream?

Dear Ambassador Fckfrg,

I trust this letter finds you well. I am writing to share with you two dreams that have recently unfolded in my mind, leaving me with a profound curiosity and a desire to explore their deeper meanings. 

 In the first dream, I found myself in a state of freefall. I was in the sky, falling, but not in a state of fear. Instead, there was a sense of liberation, as if I was shedding layers of apprehension. The atmosphere was ethereal, otherworldly, and a massive celestial giant god appeared in the distance, observing me. As I was falling, I noticed that I was not alone. There were others with me, performing to dead soldiers. Suddenly, I found myself sinking underwater, surrounded by emaciated figures. I reached out to touch each one, and as I did, they began to regain their strength and rise to the surface. Then, I found myself standing in a pool of blood. Finally, I found myself in a barren desert, dragging a pile of chains. The celestial giant god appeared once more, extending a hand to me. I dropped the chains and took their hand, ready to let go of my past and embrace the future. 

 The very next night, I found myself in another dream, this time at my parents' home. A giant chameleon was descending a ladder that was being used to paint the house. It slipped into the house through a window close to the roof, a window I had never noticed before. The house had transformed into a community place for a religious group. I was a novice in this community, assigned to assist in medical research. Sleep habits were being modified, with people now required to sleep under isolating materials and earth. I was on a mission, parting through heaps of material by dragging a big bundle of cloth along with me. At the far side of the room, I opened a big cabinet, and that's when I received a surprising message about the community leader. The leader, who I had believed to be a bishop, was actually a pimp, a trickster who had recently purchased the city's whorehouse. 

 Upon reflection, I noticed some potential connections between these two dreams. Both dreams seem to involve a transformation and a sense of discovery. However, I am left with several questions. What could the chameleon in the second dream symbolize? Could it be a metaphor for adaptability and change? And what about the community leader who turns out to be a pimp? Could he symbolize the deceptive nature of appearances? I also wonder about the potential connection between the community place in the second dream and the celestial giant god in the first dream. Could the community place represent a form of spiritual guidance, similar to the celestial giant god? And could the changes in sleep habits in the second dream be related to the freefall in the first dream, symbolizing a departure from the norm and a willingness to embrace new experiences? 

 I am eager to hear your thoughts on these dreams and the potential connections between them. Your insights have always been enlightening, and I look forward to our continued discussions. 

 Yours sincerely, 

Mi

Madame

Dear Mi,

I trust this letter finds you well. I've been reflecting on your recent correspondence, particularly the vivid dreams you shared and the intriguing encounters you've had in the metaphorical 'Whore House'. Your experiences with Cordelia and the lessons you've learned so far have added a fascinating layer to your narrative. 

Your dreams, with their rich symbolism and profound themes, have reminded me of the intricate tapestry of characters in Shakespeare's "The Tempest", particularly the character of Caliban. The celestial giant and the journey of freefall in your first dream resonate with the theme of liberation and the shedding of fears, much like Prospero's journey in "The Tempest". 

Your second dream, set in your parents' home that transforms into a religious community led by a deceptive leader, echoes the themes of transformation and deception. This reminds me of the character of Caliban in "The Tempest", a native of the island, deceived and used by those who arrived there. The chameleon in your dream, known for its ability to change, could symbolize adaptability and change, while the deceptive leader could represent the deceptive nature of appearances. 

In the 'Whore House' of your dreams, you've encountered several intriguing characters. The first is the Madame, a Prospero-like figure who rules the house with a mix of authority and manipulation. She reminds me of Prospero's words, "We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep." Yet, in her very own absurd twist, she insists on serving tea in a hat and declares that the best time for a meeting is at the stroke of midnight on a moonless night. 

The second character is the Jester, an Ariel-like figure who provides comic relief but also serves as a reminder of the house's underlying absurdity. He embodies Ariel's spirit of mischief and freedom, often quoting, "Hell is empty and all the devils are here!" He insists on speaking in riddles and communicates with the house's residents through a series of intricate shadow puppets. 

The third character is the Novice, a newcomer to the house, naive yet eager to learn, reflecting your own position within the dream and echoing Caliban's struggle for freedom and recognition. He often quotes Caliban's line, "You taught me language, and my profit on't is I know how to curse." He believes that the key to understanding the universe lies in the study of the house's dust patterns. 

Your encounter with Cordelia, a figure of wisdom and compassion, seems to have left a profound impact on you. The lessons you've learned from her, about kindness, understanding, and the importance of listening, are invaluable. These lessons, much like the lessons Prospero learns in "The Tempest", are guiding you towards liberation and growth. 

Mi, I foresee a future where you emerge from your dreams stronger and wiser. The encounters with the Madame, the Jester, the Novice, and Cordelia will serve as catalysts for your growth. You will face challenges, yes, but you will also find unexpected allies and resources within yourself. Your journey will be one of transformation, much like Prospero's journey in "The Tempest". 

Remember, Mi, your dreams are a tempest of their own, filled with characters and scenarios that reflect your internal struggles and potential growth. They are a locked box that only opens when the right questions are asked. 

I encourage you to continue exploring these dreams and the questions they raise. As Prospero learns in "The Tempest", it is through struggle and acceptance that we find liberation and growth. 

Yours sincerely, 

Fckfrg

The True Face

Dear Fckfrg,

 Colors. Scents. Whispers of touch. The very essence of desire. The whore house isn't just a sensory overload, but also a reflection of our deepest yearnings. One moment, I'm enveloped in a world of vibrant hues and intoxicating aromas; the next, I'm lost in a cacophony of echoing laughter, the palpable tension of unsaid words and unfulfilled passions. Is this real? Or a dream? Or the very core of human longing? 

 In the midst of all this, Jester takes center stage with his shadow puppets. The room dims, and he begins a straightforward tale. There's a brave knight, a rabbit, a ram, and a mischievous fairy. The knight, with the guidance of the ram and the agility of the rabbit, seeks to bring peace to a kingdom torn by strife. The fairy, playful as ever, adds unexpected twists to the knight's journey. By the end, the knight unites the kingdom, and the tale concludes on a hopeful note. 

 Watching Jester perform, I can't help but wonder what he feels. Is there a sense of nostalgia as he manipulates the puppets, or perhaps a longing for simpler times? His hands move with such precision, and his focus is unwavering. It makes me think that, for Jester, this isn't just a performance; it's a moment of genuine connection with his art and the audience. 

 The boundaries in this place often blur, between lust and love, dream and reality. The perfume is so thick, it feels almost tangible. Can one truly see a scent or touch a whisper? The atmosphere in one room is electric, while another fills with silence, broken only by soft sighs. 

 In this whirlwind, I find myself reflecting more deeply on my own feelings and experiences. The emotions, the memories, the moments of vulnerability and strength. It's not just about the broader concept of human connection, but about my personal journey, my introspections, and the intimate bonds I've formed. 

 Fckfrg, amidst all this, I wonder about your own experiences and feelings. What drives you? What holds you back? Where do you stand in this spectrum of dream and reality, passion and restraint? And where do I? 

 But as I ponder further, a suspicion gnaws at the edges of my mind. This, the whore house, isn't the real world. It's not even a genuine whore house, which many argue is the true face of capitalism. Instead, it feels like a reality constructed especially for me, a facade crafted by unknown forces with intentions I can't yet discern. 

 Seeking understanding in this sensory maze, 

 Mi.

To The Investigative Committee

Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed colleagues, and members of the investigative committee, Today, I present to you a deep dive into a series of diary entries that provide a unique window into the psyche of Mi, an individual of interest in our ongoing investigation. These entries, accompanied by evocative sketches, offer a layered understanding of Mi’s experiences and internal conflicts.

First, I'll give you a structured introduction, second the details - Ok, let's start...

Through the diary, we gain insight into Mi's psyche, witnessing their internal conflicts, desires, and uncertainties. Key points discussed include:

• Mi's Solitude: Depicted as a lone figure during dawn, symbolizing contemplation and potential. 
  
• Internal Conflict: Close-ups reveal Mi's uncertainty about their state of mind and connection to the world.
• Connection with Rosa: Music serves as a bridge, resonating deeply with Mi's emotions. 
• Duality of Emotions: Mi's constant oscillation between desire and doubt, represented by two masks.
• Question of Freedom: Drawing parallels with the character Caliban, Mi's sense of entrapment and yearning is explored.
• Quest for Identity: Through various narratives and dream sequences, Mi's struggle with self-recognition and identity is evident.
•  Relentless Search for Clarity: The maze symbolizes Mi's pursuit of understanding in a complex world.  
  

The diary entries, accompanied by evocative sketches, are pivotal in understanding Mi's motivations and state of mind, making them a crucial piece of evidence in the investigation.

Now on to each of the illustrations and its captions - here we go:

1. “Dawn breaks; I stand.” Here, we see Mi as a solitary figure against the backdrop of a nascent day. The soft pastels of the sky and the gentle rustling of leaves suggest a world full of possibilities. Yet, Mi stands still, perhaps contemplating the day ahead or lost in the vastness of the moment. 
   
2. “Lost in thought or firmly present? Uncertain.” This close-up of Mi’s face reveals a deep internal conflict. The blurred surroundings emphasize a sense of disconnection from the external world, while the etched question mark symbolizes the ever-present uncertainty that plagues Mi’s mind. 
   
3. “Rosa’s guitar strums, a note touches me.” The evocative sketch of Rosa and the musical note drifting towards Mi suggests a profound connection between the two. Music, in this context, appears to be a bridge, a medium of communication, resonating deeply with Mi’s soul. 
   
4. “Desire? Doubt? Both?” The two masks beside Mi represent the dual emotions that constantly tug at Mi’s psyche. This duality, the constant oscillation between desire and doubt, paints a picture of an individual in turmoil, seeking balance. 
   
5. “Caliban’s chains, do they bind me too?” Drawing parallels with Caliban, a character symbolizing entrapment and yearning, Mi questions their own state of freedom. The shadows around Mi’s limbs suggest intangible bonds, perhaps of the mind or spirit. 
   
6. “Freedom’s song, distant, yet echoing.” The vast landscape with drifting musical notes from distant peaks symbolizes Mi’s quest for freedom. The melody, though distant, beckons, suggesting an unquenchable thirst for liberation. 
   
7. “Tales told, do they mirror my essence?” Surrounded by ghostly figures narrating stories, Mi grapples with their identity. The mirror reflecting fragmented tales raises questions about Mi’s sense of self amidst the cacophony of narratives.
8. “Adventurer or recluse? The line blurs.” This entry captures the duality of Mi’s nature. Are they an adventurer, seeking the unknown, or a recluse, finding comfort in solitude? The merging images suggest an identity in flux.
9. “Night’s quietude demands introspection.” Under a vast starry expanse, Mi’s introspective mood is palpable. The shooting star hints at transient thoughts, fleeting moments of clarity in the vast darkness.
10. “In dreams, which fragment is truly Mi?” The dream bubbles floating above a sleeping Mi depict a mosaic of emotions and experiences. This entry delves into the complexity of identity and the challenge of self-recognition. 
11. “In this realm of shifting shadows, I search, relentlessly, for clarity.” The maze, with its ever-changing walls, symbolizes Mi’s relentless quest for understanding in a world that often seems confusing and elusive. 

 In conclusion, these diary entries and sketches offer a profound insight into Mi’s internal world, their struggles with identity, freedom, and understanding. As we continue our investigation, this diary will undoubtedly serve as a pivotal piece of evidence, shedding light on Mi’s motivations and state of mind. Thank you for your attention.

The Calm Of Racing Thoughts

I attempt to hold onto fleeting sensations, trying to pin them down to a tangible image. For a moment, I envision a bird trapped in a cage, its wings fluttering in a desperate attempt to escape. But just as quickly as the image forms, it dissipates.

 In the corridors of an unfamiliar house, I'm drawn to a room with a door slightly ajar. The muffled tones of a conversation beckon me. Pushing the door further, I see a tall figure standing by the window, his back turned. It looks like John. Maybe. Our eyes meet, and there's a fleeting moment of recognition, but it's shrouded in uncertainty. The atmosphere in the room thickens, charged with an unspoken tension. "Why are you here?" My voice barely rises above a whisper, the doubt evident. The figure smirks, "It's a dream, Mi. Everything's familiar and nothing is." 

 Suddenly, the scene shifts, and we're in a quaint café. The soft hum of conversations and the clinking of cups surround us. My heart races with a mix of anticipation and dread. I've been meaning to confess something to the person I think is John. "John," I begin, my voice shaky, "There's something I've been meaning to tell you." He leans back, his expression unreadable. "What is it, Mi?" Before I can answer, I'm jolted awake. A thin layer of sweat covers my skin, making it feel clammy and cold against the sheets. My breathing is shallow, and I try to steady it by taking deep breaths. To calm the racing thoughts in my mind. 

Desdemona

Dear Ambassador,

I hope this letter finds you well. I’ve been mulling over your story, “Hercules Unleashed,” and while it’s a vivid tale, it left me yearning for something more nuanced. It’s like a cocktail that’s all flair and no substance. But let’s not dwell on that; I have something else on my mind that I think you’ll find intriguing. I’ve been working on an adaptation of “Othello,” with Desdemona as the central figure. What makes this adaptation unique is its focus on alcoholism. It’s not just a subplot or a character flaw; it’s the very lens through which the world is viewed. Desdemona, in this version, is not merely a victim of external circumstances but also of her own internal struggles. The theme of alcoholism serves as a metaphor for the intoxicating and destructive nature of love and jealousy. Now, you might be wondering why I’ve been so engrossed in this project. The truth is, it’s been a struggle. The weight of the themes and the complexity of the characters have made it a challenging endeavor. But my dreams have been a different story altogether. Desdemona has been visiting me in my dreams, guiding me through a labyrinth of emotions. It’s as if my subconscious is doing the heavy lifting that my conscious mind finds overwhelming. Ah, Desdemona. I must confess, my affection for her runs deep. She’s not just a character to me; she’s a living, breathing entity who embodies the complexities of the human condition. My love for her is not the love one has for a figment of imagination but the love one has for a mirror that reflects the most intricate facets of humanity. Her struggle with alcoholism, her vulnerability, her defiance—they make her real, relatable, and profoundly human. It’s a story that needs to be told, not just for her but for all of us who see a part of ourselves in her. So, dear Ambassador, what do you think? Shall we embark on this journey together, exploring the labyrinthine corridors of the human psyche? 

With warm regards and deep respect, Mi