Sinister: On summer, truthfulness and the nature of parallel worlds

[Dimitra Daisy]

Dear Sinister.

I don’t know, maybe it’s the heat. Last night something changed – and it 
feels like it changed suddenly and abruptly. The days have been hot for 
quite a while (the days have been sunny almost forever) but the nights were 
cool. Last night came and the temperature didn’t fall, and that fact alone 
seems to have brought along a new state of existence. It has to do with the 
air being so warm you notice its presence all over you body all the time. 
You fall asleep and wake up and walk around surround by warm air.
At first the change is upsetting, you’re robbed of your right to wrap up in 
your sheets and sleep safely; and this constant awareness is, if not 
anything else, unsettling. It urges people towards their holidays, towards 
beaches and islands or, sometimes, foreign lands; and all the other things 
we do to celebrate summer or get away from it.
It changes the way people live next to each other too. Everyone keeps their 
windows open all the time, and suddenly you have to –and it is considered 
normal and okay to – put up with everyone’s gossip, random conversations, 
arguments, screaming children, awful music choices and tv noises. This is 
constant too. At night you hear snoring and coughing and my neighbours can 
probably hear Stuart sing ‘I fought in a war’ right now.

I’d say it was all this that brought the changes, if the changes hadn’t 
brought themselves along earlier. I saw them in the ways things happened, in 
the faces people made and the words they used. (Most of them didn’t see it 
though). And now the feeling that things are changing to become more true to 
themselves (to look more like what the way they really are deep down) is 
everywhere. People get sadder and happier and crazier at the same time, 
because that’s what they really are.

And then the first wave of heat died down, and in the few hours before the 
next one comes, the city air smells wonderful and sweet like nothing but 
making love in your daydreams. It’s almost rewarding for the fact that I’ll 
be in a hyperactive mood (so much it almost hurts) for ages.

But then in less than four weeks I’ll get away from the Greek summer. I’ll 
blissfully go and get rained on in London and other places, in another 
world. And while I’m there that world will feel almost complete. (Complete, 
not perfect).  But then so does this one. In my language, it’s called 
gravity: it keeps you in place, prevents you from flying and makes reality 
as concrete, tangible and dominant as it is.
And when I add the two worlds I exist in, instead of two halves that make a 
whole I get something like six quarters. And it still doesn’t look like it 
should.

Ah, well, keep the faith…

Dimitra
xx



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