{
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<p>
<img src="./visual/prologue_small.gif" class="center">
{
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<br>
(live: 4s)[
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(link: 'To whoever might read it,')[
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]
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<br>
(live: 7s)[
(stop:)
(link: 'To whoever might read it,')[
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<br>
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[[To whoever might read it,]]
]
}
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(live: 1s)[
(stop:)
To whoever might read it,
]
<br>
(live: 3s)[
(stop:)
If there is one thing I would want you to remember from those upcoming words, it would be that nothing about the fact that I wrote down this story makes it about you, the Reader. Not all aware actions are intentional. For example, I left this story to be read someday. But no feelings you might have while sinking into the following words were purposely involved. Whatever you feel will never get near to what I have felt, so it will have nothing to do with me or my writing. Besides, I am probably far gone by now, so there are no consequences for me anymore.]
<br>
(live:10s)[
(stop:)
I will show you things and tell you about events, but none was put there for a reason other than leaving this story behind. I rewrote it and gave it away so I wouldn't bother myself and I wouldn't be bothered by others. Especially when there will be nothing more to speculate or to say about it - as I already wrote it all, you don't need me anymore for the puzzle.]
<br>
(live:13s)[
(stop:)
In other words, I knew you would read that. But I also didn't care for it. <br>
Read those words then, but make no mistake about you understanding me. Or her. Or how this shared redemption thing really worked. <br>
You can only choose how exactly you are going to find out about the rest.
]
}]]
(font: "Baskerville")[
{
(live: 16s)[
(stop:)
[[I started this day by lying down again.]] <br>
[[I started this day by getting up too early.]]
]
}
]{
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(live: 1s)[
(stop:)
I started this day by lying down again. You have no idea how doing nothing can be so exhausting. While lying passively in this old, scrappy sheet, I slowly fell into a dream again. In such dreams, I stand under an indecently cold shower, staring at the dirty, yellow cracks in a wall and try to get my thoughts together.
]
<br>
(live: 6s)[
(stop:)
<img src="./visual/cracks in the wall.gif">
]
<br>
(live: 10s)[
(stop:)
That's all. That was a whole dream. Just coldness and endless hours, all filled. Not with thoughts though. This first case deprived me of countless nights of sleep over the past month. First preparing. Then just the feeling of exhaustion.
]
<br>
(live: 14s)[
(stop:)
Banging on the door. That's what woke me up.
]
<br>
(live: 18s)[
(stop:)
It took me about two minutes to stop breathing heavily and slow my heart's racing. Now that I can finally sleep in, someone clearly has a better of idea of how my early morning should go. But to be honest, I have always slept poorly in hotels. The unfamiliar creaking of the floor, constant shouting of anger, ecstasy, or just insanity - lights that don't bring any comfort in the darkness.
]
<br>
(live: 21s)[
(stop:)
<img src="./visual/light rays.gif">
]
<br>
(live: 25s)[
(stop:)
Eventually, around 5 am, after another mystery attempt by someone trying to open my door, I gave up on hopes of a good night's rest. The cheapest linoleum floor was squeaking as I approached a funny-looking window. It has been cut crookedly on top, like my mother's late poodle. Surely you might have guessed by now what kind of hotels I can afford.
]
<br>
(live: 30s)[
(stop:)
The darkness of this sleepless night was already gone, and dusk slowly unfolded on the street. The typical provincial city woke up very quietly. A curtain moved delicately in one flat, and a pale light blinked in another. That peaceful minute, watched from a dingy window, made me think about quitting. Asking that one time why it should be that way. But in the end, I couldn't stop staring at her pale blue door across the street.
]
<br>
(live: 36s)[
(stop:)
Banging again. 'I guess I can open the door this time'. I said that too loudly for just myself.
]
<br>
(live: 40s)[
(stop:)
[[So I did open.]]
<br>
[[But I didn't move at first.]]
]
}{
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(live: 1s)[
(stop:)
I started this day by getting up too early. While standing passively under an indecently cold shower, I stared at the dirty, yellow cracks in a wall and tried to get my thoughts together.
]
<br>
(live: 6s)[
(stop:)
<img src="./visual/cracks in the wall.gif">
]
<br>
(live: 10s)[
(stop:)
I have always slept poorly in hotels. The unfamiliar creaking of the floor, constant shouting of anger, ecstasy, or just insanity - lights that don't bring any comfort in the darkness.
]
<br>
(live: 12s)[
(stop:)
<img src="./visual/light rays.gif">
]
<br>
(live: 18s)[
(stop:)
Of course, that old and scrappy sheet didn't help either. Anyway, surely you might have guessed by now what kind of hotels I can afford.
]
<br>
(live: 22s)[
(stop:)
Eventually, around 5 am, after another mystery attempt by someone trying to open my door, I gave up on hopes of a good night's rest. Now that I can finally sleep in, someone clearly has a better of idea of how my early morning should go.
The cheapest linoleum floor was squeaking as I approached a funny-looking window. It has been cut crookedly on top, like my mother's late poodle.
The darkness of this sleepless night was already gone, and dusk slowly unfolded on the street. The typical provincial city woke up very quietly. A curtain moved delicately in one flat, and a pale light blinked in another. That peaceful minute, watched from a dingy window, made me think about quitting - or at least asking that one time why it should be that way. But in the end, I couldn't stop staring at her pale blue door across the street.
]
<br>
(live: 28s)[
(stop:)
This first case deprived me of countless nights of sleep over the past month. First preparing. Then endless hours. All filled. Not with thoughts though. It was a feeling of exhaustion. You have no idea how doing nothing can be so exhausting.
]
<br>
(live: 32s)[
(stop:)
Banging again. 'I guess I can open the door this time'. I said that too loudly for just myself.
]
<br>
(live: 37s)[
(stop:)
[[So I did open.]]
<br>
[[But I didn't move at first.]]
]
}{
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(stop:)
'Salve, Mattie! Long time no see.' I said that too loudly for just the two of us. And still, I got no response anyway.
]
<br>
(live: 4s)[
(stop:)
The small, rounded Italian man rolled himself into the room. He took two ungraceful turns around a bed before sitting with a loud groan. Then the music of the 'last Friday night' started. One long minute passed before he caught his breath. I stood in a corner and observed calmly, imagining his sweaty, breathless face slowly melting on this sticky floor, and me just smashing the rest with my shoes. It made me almost smile.
]
<br>
(live: 8s)[
(stop:)
I don't know if you, my Reader, have ever seen men that repulsive and magnetic at the same time. A human being who makes you feel confused, hated, and violently excited at once, is an inevitable trap indeed. I have fallen for Matteo's snare with the whole strength of my death wish, and he hurt me and broke me so perfectly, so I just couldn't stop myself from coming back for more.
Even now, which at that moment felt absolutely degrading, he raised his hand, which most people would reject, and swayed with it in a way that would make you kneel and wait for reward or punishment.
]
<br>
(live: 14s)[
(stop:)
'Slept lightly?' - he cackled after looking briefly around.
<br>
'Tight, you mean' - I reached my hand for the money.
]
<br>
(live: 17s)[
(stop:)
[[He however stayed still.]]
<br>
[[He threw a wad towards me.]]
]
}{
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(live: 1s)[
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Oldie, unpleased Mattie, I assumed. My programmer, the Architect.
]
<br>
(live: 4s)[
(stop:)
I don't know if you, my Reader, have ever seen men that repulsive and magnetic at the same time. A human being who makes you feel confused, hated, and violently excited at once is an inevitable trap indeed. I have fallen for Matteo's snare with the whole strength of my death wish, and he hurt me and broke me so perfectly, so I just couldn't stop myself from coming back for more.
]
<br>
(live: 9s)[
(stop:)
Banging again, and one kick, I think. I did open this time.
]
<br>
(live: 11s)[
(stop:)
'Salve, Mattie! Long time no see.' I said that too loudly for just the two of us. And still, I got no response anyway.
]
<br>
(live: 14s)[
(stop:)
The small, rounded Italian man rolled himself into the room. He took two ungraceful turns around the bed before sitting with a loud groan. Then the music of the 'last Friday night' started. One long minute passed before he caught his breath. I stood in a corner and observed calmly, imagining his sweaty, breathless face slowly melting on this sticky floor, and me just smashing the rest with my shoes. It made me almost smile.
At this absolutely degrading moment, he raised his hand, which most people would reject, and swayed with it in a way that would make you kneel and wait politely for reward or punishment.
]
<br>
(live: 14s)[
(stop:)
'Slept lightly?' - he cackled after looking briefly around.
<br>
'Tight, you mean' - I reached my hand for the money.
]
<br>
(live: 17s)[
(stop:)
[[He however stayed still.]]
<br>
[[He threw a wad towards me.]]
]
}{
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(track: 'ikywrt1', 'loop', true)
(track: 'ikywrt1', 'play')
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(live: 1s)[
(stop:)
He stared at me for a few seconds, playing quietly with his intentions.
]
<br>
(live: 4s)[
(stop:)
'It has to be clear. No misleads. Otherwise, this damn town will tear itself apart.' - he threw a wad toward me.
'No worries. I am //dead// serious about it.' - the money was real.
'When you stop being that way, call me. It's time for a promotion.' - Matteo made a sound similar to laughter and got up. At the door, he made one more round turn.
'In my golden days, when I was preparing, that helped me to get my emotions nicely away. I'm passing that onto you.' - he threw an old iPad towards me. And he rolled himself out the same way he arrived.
]
<br>
(live: 10s)[
(stop:)
I carefully put away the money and stood before a window once again, tossing an iPad lazily in one hand. I took two deep breaths.
]
<br>
{
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(track: 'ikywrt1', 'fadeout', 1)
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(link: 'PLAY')[
(track: 'click1', 'play')
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<br>
(live: 13s)[
(stop:)
(link: 'PLAY')[
(track: 'click1', 'play')
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{
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[[<img src="./visual/play.gif"> ->PLAY]]
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<br>
(live: 18s)[
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[[Only then I pressed 'PLAY'->PLAY]]
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}
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'It has to be clear. No misleads. Otherwise, this damn town will tear itself apart.'
He stared at me for a few seconds, playing quietly with his intentions.
]
<br>
(live: 5s)[
(stop:)
'No worries. I am //dead// serious about it.' - the money was real, I checked twice.
'When you stop being that way, call me. It's time for a promotion.' - Matteo made a sound similar to laughter and got up. At the door, he made one more round turn.
'In my golden days, when I was preparing, that helped me to get my emotions nicely away. I'm passing that onto you.' - he threw an old iPad towards me. And he rolled himself out the same way he arrived.
]
<br>
(live: 10s)[
(stop:)
I carefully put away the money and stood before a window once again, tossing an iPad nervously in one hand. I took two shalllow breaths.
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<br>
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(link: 'PLAY')[
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<br>
(live: 13s)[
(stop:)
(link: 'PLAY')[
(track: 'click1', 'play')
]
]
<br>
(live: 16s)[
(stop:)
[[ <img src="./visual/play.gif"> ->PLAY]]
]
<br>
(live: 18s)[
(stop:)
[[Only then I pressed 'PLAY'->PLAY]]
]
}
(track: 'main-bit', 'fadeout', 1)
(live: 1s)[(text-style:"shudder")[
(stop:)
[[<span class="pulse-in">Inspired? <span/> ->Inspired?]]
]]
<br>
(live: 2s)[(text-style:"shudder")[
(stop:)
[[<span class="pulse-in">Stimulated? <span/> ->Stimulated?]]
]]
<br>
(live: 3s)[(text-style:"shudder")[
(stop:)
[[<span class="pulse-in">Excited?<span/> ->Excited?]]
]]
<br>
(live: 4s)[(text-style:"shudder")[
(stop:)
[[<span class="pulse-in">Intrigued?<span/> ->Intrigued?]]
]]
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Inspired. That's how I felt when I finally went out on those briefly awakened streets. The morning is the only busy hour in those little cities, like this flash is the only appealing thing in a storm, making the darkness of it really meaningful. It only made it more sacred to have this intimate moment with her in all this noise.
]
<br>
(live: 5s)[
(stop:)
I cautiously checked the gun and walked with it for about ten minutes beside careless children and their full of care mothers. Finally, I reached the narrow alley, still sleepy. She was standing there, preparing her stall. Flowers were everywhere, falling from her still untrained hands.
She smiled at me and put her hair behind her ear, shyly reaching the other hand with a white rose in it.
]
<br>
(live: 9s)[
(stop:)
You already know what happened to her, whether you want to admit it or not. Do you really need to know the reason for all of this? No. Because we never will be able to fully understand other's actions.
]
<br>
(live: 12s)[
(stop:)
No one carries the consequences of my behavior. In fact, they care for nothing anymore. That is why I'm not going to justify myself or tell a tearful story of how and why I got into the business. Motivations, moral and economic situation - that's irrelevant. I am the only person who really can say: no one is angry with me. They are all at peace, and so am I.
]
<br>
(live: 15s)[
(stop:)
So I do think there is no need for you, the Reader, to continue with this story. The end doesn't bring what you would hope for. There will be neither explanation nor redemption. You would love that though, wouldn't you?
]
<br>
(live: 17s)[
(stop:)
[[I'm not reading anymore.]]
<br>
[[I want to know.]]
]
}{
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(live: 1s)[
(stop:)
Stimulated. That's how I felt when I read my first //instruction//. I now remember only individual words: flowers, shy, pregnant. But I recall it stimulated me to be more thoughtful about it - as this description would imply some sort of additional care.
]
<br>
(live: 5s)[
(stop:)
I've kept this white rose she gave me before she fell into the rest of her flowers. Not as a creepy souvenir but as a gesture of honoring her peaceful mind, one of her last, pure thought. There aren't many pure thoughts we can treasure while living in this modern world. I assumed it was worth saving. Since then, I searched for such gestures in my next jobs and was more than happy to honor each one I found.
]
<br>
(live: 9s)[
(stop:)
Are there also acts of conscience? Perhaps. There is nothing shameful about having a conscience. But they are no acts of remorse. Remorse requires someone to carry the consequences of your behavior.
]
<br>
(live: 12s)[
(stop:)
No one carries the consequences of my behavior. In fact, they care for nothing anymore. That is why I'm not going to justify myself or tell a tearful story of how and why I got into the business. Motivations, moral and economic situation - that's irrelevant. I am the only person who really can say: no one is angry with me. They are all at peace, and so am I.
]
<br>
(live: 16s)[
(stop:)
So I do think there is no need for you, the Reader, to continue with this story. The end doesn't bring what you would hope for. There will be neither explanation nor redemption. You would love that though, wouldn't you?
]
<br>
(live: 19s)[
(stop:)
[[I'm not reading anymore.]]
<br>
[[I want to know.]]
]
}{
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(live: 1s)[
(stop:)
Excited. That's how I felt when I was running down the street, imitating a look like I was on a casual jogging adventure. The dimmed lights of the city felt way more intense in my head. Every edge was pulsating, little explosions in my eyes, in the rhythm of the crazy heartbeat.
Excitement was for feeling better than I expected. I've always thought this first job would be a long-lasting burden - kind of a scar from childhood that fades in your memory, but occasionally you clap eyes on it, or someone brings it up in a conversation: 'Hey, and what's that from?'
Of all the immoral actions we witness or do in our everyday lives, murder is still one of those the majority of us are the most unfamiliar with. As a truly progressive, modern society, we are hastier to explain and justify more behaviors that break 'taboos.' We were unloved or had drowned in it - someone didn't care or had cared too much - nevertheless, we are never to blame. And it's rarely ever objectively wrong until we are in therapy.
]
<br>
(live: 7s)[
(stop:)
Well, here is what I think. Moral codes change, and they are surprisingly flexible. But shitty action stays shitty because of the simple fact: consequences are not just ours to carry. Unless you are in my profession.
]
<br>
(live: 10s)[
(stop:)
No one carries the consequences of my behavior. In fact, they care for nothing anymore. That is why I'm not going to justify myself or tell a tearful story of how and why I got into the business. Motivations, moral and economic situation - that's irrelevant. I am the only person who really can say: no one is angry with me. They are all at peace, and so am I.
]
<br>
(live: 13s)[
(stop:)
So I do think there is no need for you, the Reader, to continue with this story. The end doesn't bring what you would hope for. There will be neither explanation nor redemption. You would love that though, wouldn't you?
]
<br>
(live: 15s)[
(stop:)
[[I'm not reading anymore.]]
<br>
[[I want to know.]]
]
}{
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(group: 'playing', 'stop')
(track: 'emote', 'loop', true)
(track: 'emote', 'play', 'fadein', 1)
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(live: 1s)[
(stop:)
Intrigued. That's how I felt when I saw her for the first time.
What reasons might exist in this shaggy dog story for someone to want this creature dead?
]
<br>
(live: 5s)[
(stop:)
But she taught me the most important lesson of my profession. To never ask why. To not need to understand. Because neither of us held any answers. 'Why?' - she asked me quietly just before the blast. As if she truly didn't know? That will remain a mystery. But all I know is she wasted her last breath holding onto something as unimportant as a reason. A subjective truth that tells her story not in the way she would tell it. And who wants to leave on another's terms?
]
<br>
(live: 9s)[
(stop:)
So do you really need to know the reason for all of this? No. Because we never will be able to fully understand other's actions.
]
<br>
(live: 12s)[
(stop:)
No one carries the consequences of my behavior. In fact, they care for nothing anymore. That is why I'm not going to justify myself or tell a tearful story of how and why I got into the business. Motivations, moral and economic situation - that's irrelevant. I am the only person who really can say: no one is angry with me. They are all at peace, and so am I.
]
<br>
(live: 15s)[
(stop:)
So I do think there is no need for you, the Reader, to continue with this story. The end doesn't bring what you would hope for. There will be neither explanation nor redemption. You would love that though, wouldn't you?
]
<br>
(live: 19s)[
(stop:)
[[I'm not reading anymore.]]
<br>
[[I want to know.]]
]
}{
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(group: 'playing', 'stop')
(track: 'emote', 'loop', true)
(track: 'emote', 'play')
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(live: 1s)[
(stop:)
If you were here about me, you know more than you probably wanted. If you came for her, well...
<br>
All I can say is I was good at my job, and she probably had more luck than most of us will when the end comes.
If you are my successor, Mattie is probably still around somewhere with his iPad - this man truly doesn't have his end but holds everyone's beginning. Good luck with yours.
]
<br>
(live: 5s)[
(stop:)
[[I am stuck in the loop ->Prologue]]
]
(live: 40s)[
(stop:)
(go-to: "credits")
]
}{
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(group: 'playing', 'stop')
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(track: 'emote', 'play')
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(live: 1s)[
(stop:)
So you do. And if you are so blindly proud that you still think redemption is something anyone needs, Mattie is probably still around somewhere with his iPad - this man truly doesn't have his end but holds everyone's beginning. Good luck with yours.
]
<br>
(live: 5s)[
(stop:)
[[I am stuck in the loop ->Prologue]]
]
(live: 40s)[
(stop:)
(go-to: "credits")
]
}//Foreword//
One of the most common sayings about writers is also the most frequently given advice for those who want to enter this always partially spoken world: "Writers are thieves".
We steal others' love stories, life's disappointments, emotions, faces and names, sometimes - even a whole biography. Then we do something even more unforgivable - we don't give our victims credit. We claim those things as ours just because we decided to use our own words to write about them - and nothing in this world possesses greater creative power than words.
So here I am, changing the narrative and giving credit to the work of one extraordinary artist and his particular body of work. "i know you will read this" inspired me to not only create a story - but also to simply honor someone else's tale by writing mine. I hope you will find that collective journey as significant as I did.
<img src="./visual/signature1.png" width="25%" height="25%">
[[Prologue]]
(masteraudio: 'stopall')
<img src="./visual/IKYWRT_title.gif">
<br>
(text-size:1.75)[(text-style: "blink")[
[[let me ~~drive~~ read ->Guide]]
]
]
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(text-size:1.75)[
<span class="pulse-in">For the best experience use headphones or a set of speakers.<span/>
<br>
(live:2s)[
(stop:)
Remember that you can click moving objects as well as blue and purple text to find out more about this story]]
<br>
(live:5s)[
(stop:)
[[I'm ready ->Call it by its other name]] <br>
[[I think I need some air ->TITLE]]
]
}I KNEW YOU WOULD READ THAT
based on "i know you will read this"
written by Zuzanna Detnerska
visuals, music and implementation by Moneõ
(live: 10s)[
(stop:)
(go-to: "TITLE")
]<img src="./visual/cassette.gif">
(track: 'main-bit', 'loop')
(track: 'main-bit', 'playwhenpossible')
<br>
{
(live: 15s)[
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<span class="pulse-in">[[<img src="./visual/stop.gif"> ->Only then I pressed 'PLAY']]
<span/>
]
(live: 120s)[
(stop:)
(click: ?play [(go-to: "Only then I pressed 'PLAY")]
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}WAKE UP
~~loud audio here~~intro-loop: ./audio/ikywrt.ogg
ikywrt1: ./audio/ikywrt1.ogg
main-bit: ./audio/fullloop1.ogg
emote: ./audio/pademote.ogg
click: ./audio/button.ogg
click1: ./audio/button1.ogg
