Waste Line suffers from bizarre mood disorder, Day 3
It was late in the afternoon already when I noticed the sound of light drizzle drumming on the window. That’s when I remembered Waste Line. Such is the menace of chaotic souls, indifferent to all but themselves. I looked out…she was still there! The wind had not blown her away yet. I hurried to the porch and much to my surprise I found her in a splendid mood; my absence had gone unnoticed. True, at first she had felt somewhat crispy from the cold, but after a while she had forgotten all about it. As a matter of fact, the moment she had come to terms with the situation, she quietly embraced the solitude: there was so much to see, to hear, to smell, to feel; countless impressions to digest! She realized that her life until present time had been such a waste!
– “Please forgive me, Waste Line, I never intended to leave you out in the cold all by yourself,” I mumbled.
– “Don’t worry about it, I forgot all about you too”. I could swear she blinked, but it was only the light breeze catching the cardboard box. Had I arrived only seconds later, she might have been dispersed, for only a fine line separates life from death. For the sake of my own sanity, I promptly erased that thought.
– “I must remove the old waste and feed you fresh new waste. I should also move you indoors before the wind gains momentum. Besides I wouldn’t want you trashing my neighbourhood” I took Waste Line carefully in my arms, carrying her over the threshold, but ignoring the symbolism.
– “Well, who am I to refuse the temptation of fresh waste” She paused for a while as I carefully lined her up. “My first memory is that of a production line”, she continued, “After the sky cleared up yesterday I noticed some mesmerizing light dots in the sky, and they felt so familiar. Maybe it was déjà-vu, but for some reason it connected me to my ancestors. Most of my life, before ending up as waste, I spent long hours in dark storage spaces, struggling to survive the boredom, arguing with other products about who was entitled to the best spot, then fighting for attention on supermarket shelves. Had I known how quickly the New becomes Old, I would have stepped out of the limelight sooner and spent more time reflecting upon where I was headed. Anyway, thank you for sharing the beautiful view with me. Most people would simply toss me away. But enough about that, I want to learn more about you. Why are you so determined to measure and weigh me? You never paid me any attention before?”
She was much heavier now and surprisingly long; barely fitting into my apartment. How could it be? I dismantled her again and carried her up to the attic where there was plenty of space, or so I thought. Even with a wide-angled lens, I had no choice but to divide her in three equal lines to get all of her into one single photograph. Sadly this made her feel self-conscious and fat.
– “Well, Waste Line, here’s the thing: I am attempting a consumption diet, in order to reduce my waste line, as well as my waistline. The first step is determining just how much I consume. The second step is figuring out just how much it is possible to cut down, especially on product packaging”.
“So you want to get rid of me already, just when we were getting to know each-other? First you forget I exist and NOW YOU PLAN TO ELIMINATE ME?!!!”
I was surprised by her unexpected mood change. Her desperate attempt to fish for sympathy by calling attention to my neglect earlier was alarming and quite unfavourable. I would not fall for such a cheap trick, for once forgiveness is offered, it cannot be taken back. Although I empathized with her divided self, she was obviously no longer capable of a serious conversation, which is why I decided to leave her alone. She clearly had some issues to work on, which in my experience are better resolved in solitude.
As I left the attic, she yelled “And it’s not my fault I’m overweight today. It’s genetic!”
WASTE LINE, DAY 3
About Waste Line: Each day the narrator’s personal non-organic waste is lined up, photographed, weighed and measured for the sake of art. Waste Line is literally the story of a line of waste, who is just as concerned with her own origins and wherabouts in life as the rest of us. This tentative project is based on the conceptual and dynamic art piece conceived by the Norwegian artist Rasmus Hungnes, which was inspired by Ellen Ringstad’s organic waistline. Coincidentally, the author of the story is Ellen Ringstad herself. You can follow and contribute to his open-source project on the blog http://waste-line.tumblr.com. Read more about their collaborative project on this post. All related posts can be found here.