Example The door slams shut. With her fists clenched in her pockets, Nina trudges into the garden. Her heart races, she breathes loudly. The skin of her face tenses, her molars clenched. A carousel of thoughts starts in your head. “I’ve had enough, always I’m supposed to give in, not with me... Now I’m going to go in and tell Johannes I’m sick of it... now I’m going to think about me... He’ll see where this is going... soon he’ll be alone, he won’t even need to see the kids... then he’ll regret it...”. Nina’s inner merry-go-round spins faster. Tender voices slow down the ride: “... Well, maybe it’s better we get along again... Think of the children... you are a good team... you love him... he doesn’t mean it... put yourself in his place”. Often the inner peace messengers managed to stop the merry-go-round. With each argument, however, came fewer. This time your voices are thin- they are driven away- the merry-go-round continues to spin. Nina is in the spiral of conflict. “This can’t go on, I’m about to burst... If he looks at me with his fake smile one more time, I’ll go for his throat”. Martin sits in the team meeting. He looks the same as always. The suit is on, freshly shaved, the folder in front of him on the table, the papers sorted. Inside, the volcano is about to erupt. He’s warm. His veins at the temples are pulsing. His fingers are cold and sticky, his chest tightens, his heart pounds hard. He can no longer hear what his colleague is presenting. “Never again, will I work with him... I’ll flatten him... He’ll see... I’ve always known what a jerk he is, enough is enough... the barrel is full”. The meeting ends, Martin wordlessly leaves the room. He sits down in his office, door closed, headphones on. His thoughts are racing. Martin is in a spiral of conflict. Tanja cries. It’s all too much for her. First the death of her parents and now this. We stick together, that’s what they had sworn at her mother’s grave. “Luckily we have each other”. “How good that there are three of you” – the funeral card said – “Siblings are important, especially when things get difficult in life”. And now this. It’s been going on for weeks – arguments about money, old books, photo albums, cemetery maintenance. Nothing is simple anymore. We don’t talk anymore, only write. The brother has left the WhatsApp group. When an email arrives, Tanja’s chest tightens, she looks at the subject and has to overcome herself to open it. When she does, her fingers tremble, tears shoot into her eyes and a large lump sticks in her throat. Her legs feel weak, she feels dizzy, the letters blur. Reproach again. “That’s so mean, how can she say I’ve always been favored by Papa...they might as well ask themselves why Papa was so hard on them, they weren’t particularly nice either... Calling me a spoiled brat is just mean... I certainly won’t give in, if you talk to me like that I’ll draw other sides too...”. Tanja’s cheeks turn red, she wipes the tears from her face, her feet prance under the desk, she opens a new mail. Fingers peck at the keys. Tanja is in a spiral of conflict.
چکیده فارسی
مثال درب به شدت بسته می شود. نینا در حالی که مشت هایش را در جیب هایش گره کرده است، به داخل باغ می رود. قلبش تند تند میزند، با صدای بلند نفس میکشد. پوست صورتش منقبض می شود، دندان های آسیابش به هم فشرده می شوند. چرخ فلکی از افکار در سر شما شروع می شود. من به اندازه کافی غذا خورده ام، همیشه باید تسلیم شوم، نه با من... حالا می روم و به یوهانس می گویم که حالم به هم می خورد... حالا به این فکر می کنم من... می بیند این کجا می رود... به زودی تنها می شود، حتی نیازی به دیدن بچه ها نخواهد داشت... بعد پشیمان می شود...». چرخ و فلک درونی نینا سریعتر می چرخد. صداهای لطیف سرعت را کم می کند: «... خب، شاید بهتر باشد دوباره با هم کنار بیاییم... به بچه ها فکر کنید... شما تیم خوبی هستید... دوستش دارید... منظورش این نیست. ... خودت را جای او بگذار». غالباً پیام آوران صلح درونی موفق می شدند چرخ و فلک را متوقف کنند. با هر استدلال، با این حال، کمتر آمد. این بار صدای شما نازک است - آنها رانده می شوند - چرخ و فلک به چرخش ادامه می دهد. نینا در مارپیچ درگیری است. "این نمی تواند ادامه یابد، من در حال ترکیدن هستم... اگر او یک بار دیگر با لبخند ساختگی خود به من نگاه کند، من به دنبال گلویش می روم." مارتین در جلسه تیم می نشیند. او مثل همیشه به نظر می رسد. کت و شلوار پوشیده است، تازه تراشیده شده، پوشه جلویش روی میز، کاغذها مرتب شده است. در داخل، آتشفشان در شرف فوران است. او گرم است رگ هایش در شقیقه ها می تپد. انگشتانش سرد و چسبنده است، سینهاش سفت میشود، قلبش به شدت میکوبد. او دیگر نمی تواند آنچه را که همکارش ارائه می دهد بشنود. "دیگر با او کار نخواهم کرد... او را صاف می کنم... او خواهد دید... من همیشه می دانستم که او چه احمق است، بس است... بشکه پر است." جلسه به پایان می رسد، مارتین بی کلام اتاق را ترک می کند. در دفترش می نشیند، در بسته است و هدفون به سر دارد. افکارش در حال مسابقه دادن هستند. مارتین در یک مارپیچ درگیری است. تانیا گریه می کند. همه چیز برای او زیاد است. اول مرگ پدر و مادرش و حالا این. ما به هم می چسبیم، این همان چیزی است که سر قبر مادرش قسم خورده بودند. "خوشبختانه ما یکدیگر را داریم." "چقدر خوب است که شما سه نفر هستید" - کارت خاکسپاری می گوید - "برادر و برادر مهم هستند، به خصوص زمانی که همه چیز در زندگی سخت می شود". و حالا این هفتهها ادامه دارد - بحثهایی درباره پول، کتابهای قدیمی، آلبومهای عکس، نگهداری قبرستان. دیگر هیچ چیز ساده نیست. ما دیگر صحبت نمی کنیم، فقط می نویسیم. برادر از گروه واتس اپ خارج شده است. وقتی ایمیلی می رسد، قفسه سینه تانجا سفت می شود، او به موضوع نگاه می کند و باید بر خود غلبه کند تا آن را باز کند. وقتی این کار را می کند، انگشتانش می لرزند، اشک در چشمانش جاری می شود و یک توده بزرگ در گلویش می چسبد. پاهایش احساس ضعف می کند، احساس سرگیجه می کند، حروف تار می شوند. دوباره سرزنش کن "این خیلی بد است، چگونه می تواند بگوید که من همیشه مورد علاقه بابا بوده ام... آنها ممکن است از خود بپرسند که چرا بابا اینقدر با آنها سخت گرفته است، آنها هم خیلی خوب نبودند... اینکه من را یک آدم بداخلاق خطاب می کنند فقط منظورم... من مطمئناً تسلیم نمی شوم، اگر اینطور با من صحبت کنید، طرف های دیگر را هم می کشم...». گونههای تانجا قرمز میشوند، اشکهای صورتش را پاک میکند، پاهایش زیر میز میچرخد، نامه جدیدی باز میکند. انگشتان به کلیدها می زنند. تانجا در یک مارپیچ درگیری است.
ادامه ...
بستن ...
Example The door slams shut. With her fists clenched in her pockets, Nina trudges into the garden. Her heart races, she breathes loudly. The skin of her face tenses, her molars clenched. A carousel of thoughts starts in your head. “I’ve had enough, always I’m supposed to give in, not with me... Now I’m going to go in and tell Johannes I’m sick of it... now I’m going to think about me... He’ll see where this is going... soon he’ll be alone, he won’t even need to see the kids... then he’ll regret it...”. Nina’s inner merry-go-round spins faster. Tender voices slow down the ride: “... Well, maybe it’s better we get along again... Think of the children... you are a good team... you love him... he doesn’t mean it... put yourself in his place”. Often the inner peace messengers managed to stop the merry-go-round. With each argument, however, came fewer. This time your voices are thin- they are driven away- the merry-go-round continues to spin. Nina is in the spiral of conflict. “This can’t go on, I’m about to burst... If he looks at me with his fake smile one more time, I’ll go for his throat”. Martin sits in the team meeting. He looks the same as always. The suit is on, freshly shaved, the folder in front of him on the table, the papers sorted. Inside, the volcano is about to erupt. He’s warm. His veins at the temples are pulsing. His fingers are cold and sticky, his chest tightens, his heart pounds hard. He can no longer hear what his colleague is presenting. “Never again, will I work with him... I’ll flatten him... He’ll see... I’ve always known what a jerk he is, enough is enough... the barrel is full”. The meeting ends, Martin wordlessly leaves the room. He sits down in his office, door closed, headphones on. His thoughts are racing. Martin is in a spiral of conflict. Tanja cries. It’s all too much for her. First the death of her parents and now this. We stick together, that’s what they had sworn at her mother’s grave. “Luckily we have each other”. “How good that there are three of you” – the funeral card said – “Siblings are important, especially when things get difficult in life”. And now this. It’s been going on for weeks – arguments about money, old books, photo albums, cemetery maintenance. Nothing is simple anymore. We don’t talk anymore, only write. The brother has left the WhatsApp group. When an email arrives, Tanja’s chest tightens, she looks at the subject and has to overcome herself to open it. When she does, her fingers tremble, tears shoot into her eyes and a large lump sticks in her throat. Her legs feel weak, she feels dizzy, the letters blur. Reproach again. “That’s so mean, how can she say I’ve always been favored by Papa...they might as well ask themselves why Papa was so hard on them, they weren’t particularly nice either... Calling me a spoiled brat is just mean... I certainly won’t give in, if you talk to me like that I’ll draw other sides too...”. Tanja’s cheeks turn red, she wipes the tears from her face, her feet prance under the desk, she opens a new mail. Fingers peck at the keys. Tanja is in a spiral of conflict.
ادامه ...
بستن ...