But you, O Daniel, shut up the words and seal the book until the time of the end.
In interpreting dream-stories, one must consider them the first time from the beginning
to the end, and the second time from the end to the beginning.
—VETE AL DIABLO— he was saying to the entity following him. She was flexing her
fingers like fangs or peace signs with the thumbs curled in. In other words she was
making scare quotes around an obscure, or obscene, word. —Do you even know how to
read?— she was saying to him. He tried to sound it out: "G...G...G...GUIL...T...TY." So
that when he pronounced the word, he was so pronounced: guilty. And he was found like
that in the street facedown in a stinking puddle of his own fluids. When he was told
"we're going to call an ambulance" he got up and walked away. It happened almost
every night; he had learned about 150, or one hundred filthy, words by then.
He was called Nilo because his real name was Nihilo [EX NIHILO NILO FIT]. El libro
de Nilo was written as he read from an empty book, saying whatever words he saw in his
sleep. So it became a book of dreams. But he did not seek to explain or interpret them—
only to end them.*
[* In one dream he tried to write out the dream as it was happening. He started out by
writing: in this dream, he tried to write out the dream, as it was happening: he started
out by writing, in this dream, he tried to write out the dream, as if that would stop it
from happening. He started out by writing, in this dream, he tried to write out the dream,
though it didn't seem to be working: he started out by writing, in this dream, he tried
to write out the dream, but it wasn't right. He started out by writing this, and never
stopped writing it, because he never stopped reading; therefore he kept starting to write.
He tried to not start reading, but he had already continued not stopping and therefore could
not but start over again...]
There was a puzzle piece in the mouth of a dead snake. The only recognizable
semblance it possessed was something like a moon or comet or planet or star. Then, in
the mirror of that distant face, was the moving image of a boy and girl in secret,
watching themselves, not knowing they were being watched through that same mirror.
When the mistake occurred, all the light flowed out of that vision; the snake gave a
spasm of horror and as it died spat up into its mouth a puzzle piece. It possessed the
semblance of a luminous shadowy sphere. When the two pieces were fitted together,
they made the two black irises of that girl in her bedroom. In this way the repetition, the
despoiling, was unending; the fitting of one piece to the previous always resulting in a
new manifestation of the I, or infestation of eyes.i
The circular face of that celestial mirror, when it finally broke, took on the semblance of
a "broken watch." However it was uncertain whether it was a shattered timepiece, or a
vigil*
[* At one point “vigil” was mistakenly written as “sigil.” This changed the entire text,
from a sign to a signature. It was a puzzle piece with vertices determined by the values
of the author’s name marked out upon an 8x8 grid. But since his name was Nothing, the
image dissolved, the puzzle went unsolved.]
that failed to be kept. It could not be anything at all but alternated back and forth,
paralyzed by undecidability. Any conceivable action could only complicate things; the
"watch" was undone by any reaction whatever one way or the other. If he tried to fix the
watch, he abandoned his watch; and if he tried to go back to his watch, the watch broke
apart more completely. At the same time, the inexorability of time and the necessity of
vigilance were both pressing. He could not do anything nor could he wait, because it
was precisely that wait—the weight of guilt—that had broken the dream into pieces...
There was a puzzle piece in the head of a dead boy. He was 19 and run over by a car. As
he was lying in the street he said "it's in my head, it's in my head" and then screamed as
the sun was eclipsed. The dreamer looked inside the head but nothing was there; he said
"it's all in my head" and screamed. The sun was eclipsed again, by the sun. This all
happened five times; the fifth sun was the puzzle piece. An old man in a white suit held
it out in his hand and said "if you find all the puzzle pieces this dream will come to an
end." But his suit was stained red in the blood of the sun and he screamed.
A voice in the darkness was laughing —¿CREES QUE PUEDES SUSPENDER ESTO? He could not end
or suspend but only extend it. —Cállate la boca —Nilo tried to say, but his mouth was
closed shut. —¿CREES QUE PUEDES HURTARTE? He tried to hide but it only hurt more. —Eres
nada, nadie… he thought. —¿CREES QUE PUEDES NADEARME?
[As Nilo was lying there on the ground paramedics gave him a dose of Nilocución, because
he had neither place nor phrase, ni ubicación ni locución.]
He got up out of bed and looked in the mirror. But the mirror was the dream itself;
therefore he saw himself getting up out of bed, and he saw himself looking at himself in
the mirror. At that point the two dreams and two selves gave way to three. But of course
they continued to view and review themselves in such a way that the infinitely
reduplicated illusion was all evidently already there and it was no longer clear whether
they had been originated from the one, or if there had never been a single one to begin
with. There was either an infinite One, who was veiled, or an indefinite number of ones,
who were surveilled.
With each instance of reflection the dream became infinitesimally more complex: within
instants the infinite mirror became an infinitesimal computer. It used to reflect one for
one the one before it; but now it returned one-and-nothing for one the one. Nilo used to
see himself in it; but now he saw nothing: a concatenation of nothing and himself.
The vast expanse of space is a dreamcatcher. In its dark invisible web is entangled
the vibrations of bad dreams. It is an expanding circular puzzle piece.
At the center of that circle is another circular piece with its horizontal and
vertical axes cut out. This the light passes through.
These two puzzle pieces being both circular could fit one within the other. But it would
take infinite circles therefore to fill up all the space. Obviously it was a puzzle that
could never be finished.
—ESTO ES EL ROMPECABEZAS INFINITO. EL ENIGMA IMPECCABLE. EL MISTERIO IRRESOLUBLE —dijo la
Voz...el Fósforo.iii But as soon as the singular "I" did not fall into the dualities of those
interminable eyes, the image was a void; the mistake was avoided. The lovemaking went on yet
she remained a virgin. The two snakes revived and revolved around a central pole, proceeding
in a slow, curious way, like magic or association.
ii Thus the Dreamending became the Dream Mending.