There are objects in this world with precise utilitarian destinations, but which, in case of necessity, are used for various other purposes. These new functions eventually get to define the respective objects. The necessary condition for the success of such use reorientations is represented by a certain morphological availability of the respective object towards its new use matrix. Hence, you can very well scratch your ears with a pencil, whereas you cannot do that with a belt. Yet, the belt can be used for very successful teaching purposes. That is by means of body corrections applied to naughty children. Thing, which, again couldn?t be accomplished with, let?s say a key. Which, between you and me, could be used to open a bottle of beer. Living surrounded by objects, we very often end up being one with them. Being like them. I was a bit more than an object when, in July 1989 I was discharged from the army. Physiologically speaking, I had the specific behaviour to a living organism. I was breathing and this managed to sustain my vital functions. There had been nine months- which could have, theoretically, lead me to a different life- since entering University. Forever groping when coming to screwing a bulb, I was ardently preparing myself for becoming an engineer. An electrical engineer. Not even today can I say what that means. Yet, the word seemed interesting to me. Being a very diligent student during the twelve years spent in school, I had no other option at the moment. With a sickly panic regarding everything, which dealt with the electrical current- dating far back from my summer holiday in Tatarciuc when one of my colleagues had died electrocuted on one of the locomotives in the North Railway Station- I was getting ready to serve it for a lifetime. Yet, as the objects I have speculated on, due to the December coup d?etat, I ended up having a different destiny than the one I had prefigured. I, as well as my entire generation, had to live the tumultuous nineties. Those were years of complete reconstruction. Years when I learnt to stand on my own two, like a baby, even if I had already turned twenty. Step by step? |