| text: robin pic: Big Fat Kill, Sin City |
That winter was the first time I met Nicolay. He was merely a student then, still at the university, but seeing him there at the Red Square, in front of the Kremlin made the word ambitious pop to mind. His ambitions were already then the strongest star in my circle of acquaintances.
My girl friend introduced us that day, I still remember his dark, wet hair in the rain, and his gray eyes. I still didn’t speak Russian back then, and his English was awful, but we communicated better than many who speak the same language do. He showed me Moscow that day and a bout a month later we were a married couple on our way to the Mediterranean.
By the end of the year Nicolay had built up a small society of revolutionaries and fanatics. Nihilistic fundamentalists who had survived the nineteenth’s century severe winter and found one another in a small world of the eighteenth’s century thaw. They where all dressed in black suits. The suits were for them what the swastika had been for the Nazis; nothing they had created themselves but something they held onto as if they had.
They were a brotherhood of unfaithful fanatics, who imagined that the destruction of the society was a necessary evil for the best of the society, and therefore devoted time to terrorism and assassination of politicians. They had formed a club of internal admiration, trying to impress one another and perhaps God. Nikolay was their prophet and I merely a small woman behind a great man. But I was young and in love, and that was my only ambition.
The thesis in the societies science was to improve the society by destruction of it, make people aware of what’s going on around them. It was a good thought, but just like another ideology not more than a fairy tale for adults. Once Nicolay seized power he became as corrupt as the ones he had to step on to seize it.
In the end, when I’m sitting with all the answers, and know the result of it all, I can’t resist seeing them as small children, playing with a rock a lot heavier than what they can carry. The toy that once gave them so much joy would therefore also be the thing that crushed them.