Proofreading
by Louis Train
February 2023, Hebburn
1
Please imagine me.
What am I like?
What can you say about me?
What's inside me?
What do I have in my pocket?
Let's
take a look.
It's a pack of spaghetti.
It costs 28 pence.
I walk through Morden Garden every night
to the convenience store to buy a 28 pence pack of spaghetti.
Who is Morden?
Morden-Voldemorden.
Morden Freeman.
Mordenzel Washington.
Me.
Night.
Morden Garden.
28 pence spaghetti.
I hear footsteps.
I hear voices.
Do you hear them?
2
Please imagine me 40 feet tall.
One night I was walking through Morden
Garden with spaghetti in my hands.
I tripped over a rock.
I fell.
My pack of spaghetti fell.
The packaging is torn.
The spaghetti broke and crumbled.
A very strong wind was blowing.
Broken spaghetti was flying everywhere.
Broken spaghetti resulted in words,
resulted in pictures.
Birds flew in and started pecking at the
broken spaghetti.
Recently...I read on Wikipedia that
spaghetti was invented by the ancient Incas about 40 thousand years ago.
The word spaghetti means the hair of a
beloved grandmother in the ancient Incas language.
In ancient Sumerian, spaghetti is the
tears of the elder priests.
In ancient Greek, spaghetti is white
stones scattered on the shores of the Mediterranean Sea.
In Ancient Scottish Gaelic, spaghetti is
gray smoke.
In Italian, spaghetti is... spaghetti.
Spaghetti has traveled too far in space
and time for us to treat it lightly.
Spaghetti is so… Weird
Exciting
Seriously
Madly
Prematurely
Unclear
Routine
Fine.
I stared at the pieces of spaghetti for a
long time, and then turned around and went back to the store.
...
the horse smelled like cheddar
I’ll put it in the shredder
I do not know a better
seasoning than a setter
...
3
Imagine that I have wings.
I always buy the cheapest spaghetti.
Emm... I have no problems with money.
But I have principles.
I have beliefs.
I have habits.
I have a plan.
I have a ritual.
I go into the store, go to the ‘pasta and
rice’
I'm looking at packs of 78 pence feathers.
Are you serious?
I'm looking at gluten-free whole-grain
spaghetti.
Let's not go to extremes!
I'm looking at 28 pence spaghetti.
Well, it's better than nothing.
I need to get this home.
I need to cook spaghetti.
I've been cooking spaghetti every night
since 2014.
I've been cooking spaghetti every night
since 2014.
I've been cooking spaghetti every night
since 2014.
Morden Garden is like an empty maze.
I've only seen birds, rats and squirrels
here.
I only buy spaghetti.
I don't need sauce or sausages.
I have vegetable oil and salt at home.
Only once, besides spaghetti, I bought
Fanta.
That was in 2020.
4.
Imagine a golden cloud.
On February 4, 2023, I also went to the
convenience store for spaghetti.
There are about 400 pieces of spaghetti in
a regular pack of spaghetti.
And each has its own name.
The first one's name is Daphne.
The second one is called Helga.
The third is called Simone.
The fourth is called Irma.
The fifth is called Boris.
The sixth is called Liz.
The seventh is called Rishi.
The eighth is called… Boris.
The ninth is called Peter.
The tenth is called…
I look forward to eating spaghetti every
time.
For me, this is the only thing that makes
sense in this life.
It's something the whole universe revolves
around.
It's as important as breathing.
It's as important as a heartbeat.
It's as important as rain,
Like public transport
Like photosynthesis.
The 390 remaining spaghetti was named
Steve..
Or Tony.
...
i found a lion in my pocket
i wish I had found a bouquet
i wish I had found a baguette
but not this sexy lion
...
5.
Imagine that someone is whispering
something in your ear.
Morden Garden calms me down.
Because nothing happens there.
I feel calm when nothing happens.
Calmness is very important.
Sometimes I look at the moss and think...
oh, what a calm moss!
Learn from the moss.
If I can learn calmness from moss, can
moss learn anything from me?
I know all about 28 pence spaghetti.
It's not that it's something tasty or
healthy.
It's part of my life.
It's as much an integral part of my life
as socks, shoes, Morden Garden and James Blunt's song "You're beautiful,
its true".
Spaghetti is a philosophy.
Spaghetti is a political position.
Spaghetti is volunteering.
Activism.
Escapism.
Realism.
Socialism.
Lism
Izm
Zm
M
M
Muuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu
Meow
6.
Imagine a fireball.
When I have spaghetti, I feel like a male.
A man.
A citizen.
A creature of God.
A woman.
A bird.
A bath bomb.
When I have spaghetti, I feel my body, my
mind and my soul better.
I go to the convenience store, I make a
purchase.
No, I'm not making a purchase, I'm making
an act.
I'm doing a feat.
I'm a hero.
I'm fighting fate.
I walk 200 meters from home to the store
like an argonaut going across the seven seas.
My body is a ship.
We'll call this ship the Olive Stunner.
Let it dissect the space and bring
victories.
May the gods grant good luck to the Olive
Stunner!
I wish I could come back from this trip as
soon as possible.
My shabby pan is waiting for me at home.
It's crying.
It looks out the window every day.
It's waiting for me.
It prays.
It believes.
...
a drag queen shouted to me come on
are you a cylindrical dragon?
are you a surreal cubist dragon?
drag queen, you have entered the danger
zone...
...
7.
Imagine that a tree grows out of your
head.
I have no mental illness.
I have no digestive problems.
I have a hope that one day I will share my
spaghetti with someone.
Maybe it will be a friend.
Or maybe it will be some beautiful woman.
Or some handsome man.
Or someone who defines themselves beyond
the binary gender opposition.
Or will it be someone divine and
supernatural…
The God of Thunder and Lightning
Or the God of Luck and the Arts
Or a seven-headed monster
Or the tangible ghosts of the dead
Or... a cat.
Or maybe tamagotchi…
Or Jesus Christ in Buddhist vestments,
standing on top of a gigantic water god
Someone and me... and spaghetti…
And a whole eternity.
8.
Imagine emptiness.
What color does it glow?
Spaghetti doesn't matter.
Spaghetti is not the character or hero of
this story.
Spaghetti is not a symbol, not a sign, not
a metaphor.
John Lennon in the song
"Imagine" constantly asks us to imagine that something is not there.
Imagine that there is no such thing,
imagine that there is no such thing.
Imagine there is no spaghetti.
I think it's easier to imagine that there
is no spaghetti than to imagine that there is no heaven.
How many people have died for spaghetti?
Is it possible to use spaghetti as a
weapon or a gift?
Did John Lennon like spaghetti?
Did John Lennon really like spaghetti?
What's wrong with John Lennon?
What's wrong with me?
What's wrong with you?
It would be easier for me if I just kept
quiet and danced.
But I was told that in the UK they don't
really like wordless theater.
This is the tradition.
Spaghetti!
SPA-GET-TEA!
...
What do you want, my sweet bird?
Do you want to see what's up my skirt?
I have a majestic fjord under my skirt.
O my dear Lord! O my dear Lord! O my dear
Lord!
...
9.
Imagine that everything you thought was true
turned out to be a lie
And imagine two-headed elephants.
I'm going home.
I'm totally focused.
I fully exist in the present tense.
My whole life is a deferred moment.
The climax will happen in ten minutes.
Ten minutes left.
I'm walking through the Morden Garden.
I see everything as it really is.
Bushes.
Benches.
Trees.
Moon.
Black clouds.
Light rain
+3 degrees Celsius
I tripped over something.
A man?
It's a man!
What is a living person doing in Morden Garden?
This is a homeless man.
Why did he lie right in my path?
Homeless people have never slept in this
place.
What the hell does that mean?
9 minutes.
Me and a homeless man are sitting on the
ground and looking at each other.
He looks like an ancient Greek god.
A smelly and unwashed ancient Greek god.
We sit and are silent.
He is silent.
I'm silent.
Morden Garden is silent.
Between us, right on the ground, is a pack
of 28 pence spaghetti.
8 minutes.
This pause becomes tedious.
Neither of us dares to move first.
Neither of us dare to say anything first.
7 minutes.
6 minutes.
5 minutes.
Nothing happens.
It was like I was numb.
I begin to pray for the homeless man.
The homeless man begins to sing.
I'm screaming inside myself.
I feel that the homeless man is also
screaming inside himself.
I find the strength to move.
I pick up a pack of 28 pence spaghetti.
I put the pack in my pocket.
I run home in a hurry and don't look back.
4 minutes.
I'm running home as fast as I can.
3 minutes.
I looked around.
A homeless man is running after me.
My heart began to beat faster.
It seemed to me that the homeless man had
wings.
2 minutes.
I ran into my house and slammed the door.
1 minute.
I look out the window.
The homeless man disappeared.
A small red bird appeared in the sky with
a bunch of red berries in its beak.
Less than a minute left.
I don't have much time.
I pray to the gods.
I remember all possible prayers.
I fill the pot with water.
I turn on the strongest gas on the stove.
I pour salt into the water.
My hands are shaking.
My eyes are watering.
Me
Me
Me
It seems too late.
One day I invited her to drink coffee, but
she refused because she had an appointment with the dentist that day.
One day I offered her a walk in the woods
at 7 in the morning, but she refused because she usually woke up only by noon.
Once we didn't see each other for several
years, but neither of us noticed it, because these few years will last forever.
After an eternity, I texted her: Is there
a dish that you can eat endlessly?
Two weeks later I received a reply SMS.
Just one word.
Spaghetti.
10.
Just imagine the following…
I came home.
Cooked spaghetti.
Swallowed, without chewing much,
everything that was in the pan.
Went to bed.
I have to get up early for work tomorrow
morning.
...
I'm distracted. I have a luxury boat
Who lives in it? The goth and the goat
Sometimes I listen to a post punk with a
goat
Sometimes I undress and ride goth.
...