Confessions of an Author

Chapter Seven. THE MAN

I could put this “man” between quotation marks to denote the irony of the meaning of this word. What do I care about this so-called “virility” of your “manhood.” This society has made itself a fantastic ideal of strength. As long as he is able to perform, every weakling is allowed to consider himself a giant. But the moment the ability for carnal pleasure disappears for one reason or another, and sometimes this may happen overnight, it happens frequently that a man does not become serious, but sad. And I truly believe that a sad man is the most ridiculous sight on earth.

Well, I was at the time such a man. I wrote my most stupid book, a novel drenched with melancholy, and bathed in tears. Today I know people a lot better — it's odd, but there are so few men and women — and I am no longer surprised that this particular bit of trash became my greatest best seller. I have written many more and better things since which have given me the recognition in the small circle of connoisseurs which is necessary for a creative person, but I have never had another smash like that bad book I wrote. I don't think, or hope, that I will ever have another one. But when it happened I was still blinded enough to be very proud of my “success” and I seriously believed myself to be what all these male and female morons told me I was, a great man. The success of this novel was also the reason that a theatrical producer in Vienna, who had read some of my older plays, commissioned me to write a play for him. To me, his request seemed obvious.

It was about two years after Mama's death that I returned to Vienna. I had successfully recuperated from my weakness and I also had forced myself to forget about everything that had happened prior to that sad day … I refused to think about the past. But, on the road to Vienna, several events of my life were forcibly brought back to my memory, because of the familiar surroundings, and one period above all stood out in all its glory, my year in Salzburg.

I must admit that I had a terrible longing for my two girl friends who did not know anything else but that I had been called away for an emergency two years ago. It must have been an insult to them not to hear a word from me, the man who wanted to marry one of them, for so long. It occurred to me to interrupt my voyage to Vienna, in Salzburg. I started to enjoy the idea of seeing them again, though I realized that they must have looked for, and found, a replacement for me. They simply did not belong to those people who just sit there and save it for the love of a man who takes off for several years, and they also were not the types to deny a man their bodies out of a misplaced feeling of spite. I knew them well enough for that.

I had kept my home in Salzburg by paying rent several years in advance. And it was the first place I went to. My gardener was very surprised and told me that I had changed so much that he had trouble recognizing me. Then he went on to tell me that the “ladies,” and he cocked his head, blinked his eyes and cackled knowingly, had inquired after me for several months but finally they had stayed away. He even gave me their names and the moment he noticed that my ears perked up he became more confidential. “They were no good for a fine gentleman like you … everybody in Salzburg knew about them … ooh, I tell you, Sir, about a year ago there was a real scandal with a married man about those two … his wife had to come between them … she went at them with a dog whip …”

I was surprised that it made no impression upon me at all. I only remember that I had to admit to myself then and there that neither a wife nor a dog whip, nor for that matter the married man himself, would succeed in breaking off relations with my two friends. I asked, “And when were the girls here for the last time?”

“Oh, God, I can't even remember,” said the gardener, “it must have been more than a year ago since they left Salzburg.”

My quick, involuntary movement must have made him realize that I was more interested than I pretended to be. “Oh, they've gone. After a scandal like that one,” cackle, cackle, “they couldn't have stayed in this town. And their father was not much better than they were. He went with them instead of throwing them out of the house. Well, you know how people talk.”

“About what, my friend?”

“Well, that he … that he did it with his own daughters.”

I laughed. No, I could not believe that. The girls would never have kept that a secret from me. More likely that they would have bragged about it to me. It was simply a matter of their father allowing them to be happy in their own chosen way.

So why else had I come to Salzburg. In my imagination I had already created a happy reunion and now I was starving for their company … any company.

I had been ill for almost a year and after that I felt it my duty to castigate myself. Whenever my desire threatened to overpower me I would do handstands and other gymnastics till I was exhausted. But now my period of chastity had gone through its crisis.

I was somewhat irritated when I retired into my room. God knows that I, if I had found out where the girls were, would have taken the next train to follow them to wherever I would have found them, I would have taken them on the spot. Oh, yes, I would have. And I did the most stupid thing I could have done. I stretched myself on the sofa and gave my fantasy free reign.

Fortunately, I was not given too much time, because someone knocked on the door. A second knock. Finally I decided to call, “Come in!” A girl came in, the maidservant of my gardener as I soon found out. She had been sent to ask if there might be something I wanted. She was a typical peasant girl from the Salzburg district, fairly tall, sturdy and without too much shape. I let her come very close to me and when she finally stood at my side, I took her hand and pulled myself into a sitting position.

“What I want … what I want,” I asked, caressing her upper arm which felt strong and firm. “Just wait a minute, dear girl, and I will think of something.” I grabbed her around the waist and forced her to sit down next to me. When I started to take my hand off her arm, she made a move so that I, without intending, touched her voluptuous bosom.

Now my desire started to awaken. I did not see or hear any longer, I had become lust. With one full swoop I tore the girl's cotton blouse. I saw the beautiful white skin, the beginning of her broad, firm breasts. I pulled the girl down on the sofa with me and, ere she had had time to recuperate from her initial surprise, I had lifted her skirts high and feasted my eyes upon her well-formed thighs and almost hairless organ, the sight of which made me go wild with burning desire. I threw myself upon the girl and, while my hungry kisses closed her mouth, I penetrated her deeply. She was as if hypnotized, but when I shamefully wanted to let her go, she clamped herself around me. Then I noticed her deep red flush, her longing eyes, and I noticed desire behind her smile, her white teeth flashing, lips curled, in a half-open mouth.

“Do you think you could stay longer?” I asked hesitantly.

She nodded, keeping me in her firm grip. I made her let me go, took off my clothes, locked the door and started to undress her.

She resisted. “Oh, no, not that… it's shameful!” But I wanted to see all of her, because I had noticed that she had a beautiful belly. I brutally tore the clothes off her body and, sure enough, I had never seen a more beautiful belly and well-formed buttocks on any of the women I had possessed. I told her so, but she did not seem to listen. She sobbed, hands on her face, and repeated, “Oh, please, you take away all my feeling of shame.”

That made me laugh, and I was surprised to find that I could still laugh. I started to kiss the girl all over, even her hairless organ. I nibbled the firm flesh and then I screwed her like a madman. She groaned and bucked and when I came for the second time, she lifted her behind and pushed against my body so firmly that I couldn't come free. She suddenly pulled me against her bosom, her hands pressed against my buttocks, pulling and pushing, and her innocent fumbling caused me to start all over again in an orgy of fury, her entire body now cooperating in our wild game of love, an orgy of steaming flesh. Groaning, she was thrashing wildly on the bed, but when I wanted to pull out my member she grabbed for it and held it in a firm grip till it hurt. That was the lust of a wild animal, rutting to conceive.

When she finally let go of me, her words were breathless but her eyes were shining and she repeated pantingly over and over, “Oh, my God, that's gonna be twins!” And she lifted her breasts, adding with a smile I will never forget, “and they won't ever be hungry, neither.” I could not help myself, and kissed her tenderly all over with awe and veneration. Then she dressed herself with the languid movements of a satisfied animal.

“Are you going to come back?” I asked her.

She let the question sink in slowly and then felt her private parts, rubbing them softly as if they were hurting her. Then she said, “One more time, but then you will have to do it till I go silly, if you can bring it up-but not today — tomorrow, after dark.”

And she came to me the next night after the gardener and his wife had gone to bed. We knew each other fully undressed and it seemed to me as if I was catching up in one night on things I had left undone for two years. My member was raw and she was silly.

The next day I left Salzburg. Whether she really did get twins or not, I don't know. Though I have tried to find out whatever became of this girl — and I am sure she must have found her man — I never knew what became of her. I am grateful that I have been able to reward her richly, giving her the security of a carefree future. I hope that she has found herself a husband who will bring up my “twins” to be good and decent people and who will receive from her body the same delights that she gave me, a poor starving man.

My following stay in Vienna brought me a period of sexual overindulgence and a subsequent satiation which, as has happened to so many before me, brought on a total breakdown in my sex life. I must grudgingly admit that this misery does not happen to everyone.

The writing of plays obviously brought me in close contact with the capital's theatrical life. I got to know them all, the little men and the little women; I have described them exactly the way I found them and earned their undying ingratitude that way. Obviously they are convinced that I have lied about everything but that is only because they don't know themselves and have no idea about the objectionable parts of their personalities.

And yet, I did find a few with outstanding personalities, oddly enough: only among the women. Men are either vain out of stupidity or stupid because of their vanity. Their art is a craft to them. That is why there are so many who are absolutely unimportant, only a handful who have perfected their craft to the limit with effort and endurance, and an occasional virtuoso who has pushed his capabilities far beyond the average. But it seems to me that there are no longer any true artists among the performers. I have only met a few women who, because of their temperament, could not possibly be anywhere else but in the theater.

I was especially intrigued by one of them. Without being truly great, and definitely without any true claim to all the furor that was made about her, she was a born actress and above all a real woman. I had met her during a rehearsal. I was completely taken in by her soft charm, at least during the beginning. We became intimate and one day I thought that something might develop between the two of us But then she warned me, “My dear friend, don't become involved that way. You wouldn't be able to bring it up. I need quite a lot.” She laughed a clear ringing laughter and sounded like a cheap whore, adding, “I don't know the situation of your money-bag, but that is not the bag I am after. And I am sure the other one is neither heavy nor full enough to satisfy me.”

It was known that she was almost exclusively attracted (unless she could make incredible material gain) to the type of people that are grooms and stableboys. Once I went with her and the rest of the troupe on a small tour and all of us stayed at the same hotel. At dinner she was introduced to a young Italian singer. A few years later he lost his voice and became an actor. But he must have made a tremendous impression upon her because she only had eyes for him. The next day I went upstairs to my hotel room and I had to walk past her door. I saw two chambermaids peeping through the keyhole and keeping their ears against the door panel. Under the pretense that I needed something or other, I called one of the girls into my room and — how low can one get? — asked her about the things she had heard and seen. She told me that the Italian and the actress had been humping around for over two hours now. They had taken the mattresses off the beds, spread them on the floor and he had — two hours later, mind you — not gotten off her yet!

The girl was small and pretty but the jealousy in her tone of voice was big and ugly.

We both put our ears against the wall in the hope to hear something of what was going on next door. The little chambermaid lifted her skirts and I took her standing up against the wall, because she wanted to have it, “just like the woman in the other room!”

Just like the woman in the other room! It seemed to me that the actress had a keen eye for my shortcomings, because I am sure I could not possibly have kept it up for such a long time. I had become too weak for an exercise like that. And it is quite possible that she, in turn, was incapable of enjoying milder forms of mutual affection. But she did have what we call personality. And her strength and personality never left, not even when she collapsed under what our moral Philistines call, “a scandalous way of life.” Even when she was half-dead, she would still try to get it good.

Once I allowed an older actress to seduce me. That was very funny. I had had supper with her and obliged when she asked me to drive with her to her home. On the way there I noticed that she was leaning against me. When we had nearly reached her home she asked me to drink a cup of black coffee, as all Viennese do, at her place instead of in a coffeehouse. Since every one of her words had a hidden sob, I assumed that she was rather excited, and my surmise was correct. I glanced at her sideways, a woman of around forty, very well preserved, slim, quite a lot of bosom, a good waist and eyes that seemed to swim in tears. I thought that an aging woman might show greater appreciation and soon I was sitting in her nice and cozy living room. I must admit that I was beginning to feel some excitement after the lady had excused herself for a moment to go into another room. It was not difficult to guess that our get-together would only develop toward one certain direction.

She finally reappeared, wearing a light blue negligee, which was exceedingly low-cut and showed her breasts in all their milk-white voluptuousness. She rang for her maid, who served us tea, and when the actress sipped from her cup, bending forward slightly as if to show me her complete fullness, she nodded to the girl who thereupon left the room. I had the wildest desire to grab for those large globes and hold onto them. She smiled knowingly at me and whispered, “I would love to see you nude.”

Her hand went to my vest and started fumbling with the buttons, then she let it slide lower and come to rest down there. She became more and more intimate and I leaned back in my chair, letting my arms hang down and adopting the attitude of, “All right, cruel fate, take thy turn.”

She finished unbuttoning my vest, started my trousers, my underwear, my shirt. She lifted my shirt flaps and pressed her face against my belly with a contended sigh, looking up to me with sparkling eyes, a tear blinking in each corner. Then she grabbed with both hands for my privates and pressed tender kisses upon my member. She then tried to take off my jacket and when she did not immediately succeed, she asked me to be a little bit more helpful. And suddenly I was stark naked, she had even managed to take off my shoes and my socks. She pushed me back upon the couch, took my legs between her thighs and my member, which had become quite stiff at the sight of my own nudity, between her fingers. She just stood there, breathing deeply, and finally after awhile she said, pantingly, “Oh, my God, how beautiful, I'm dying!”

The picture of that woman, bending over backwards, in the throes of wild abandon while all she was doing was holding my legs between her thighs and my member between her fingers, was too much for me, though tremendously exciting. I pulled her negligee down, exposing her breasts, which now hung down like a pair of badly inflated big bladders. She bent over and pushed one nipple into my mouth. At that moment I started to shudder, but an uncontrollable excitement came over me and I started to come. Quick as lightening she bent over my member, stared at it with open mouth, emitting sounds of pure pleasure. Then she caught the spurting semen and swallowed it.

That brought me back to my senses. I got up and pushed the woman away from me. She stretched herself voluptuously as if in aftermath. Then she buttoned her negligee, put her arms around my neck and smiled at me gratefully, her eyes still swimming in tears. But I had had enough. Before I left, she suddenly pressed one of my legs between her thighs, started to groan and I could see delight in her eyes. Then she shivered throughout her body. She had climaxed again.

When I left her, I noticed that none of the doors had been locked and I brought this to her attention. “So what?” she said, “I am not ashamed in front of my maids, if one of them happens to walk in.”

The squeezing of her fingers around my member left a wild desire for more and an uncontrollable urge for some woman. On my way home I had to cross that section of small streets where the free girls live. I went into one of those side streets.

It was still legal, then, to keep the windows lit. The girls would lean on the windowsills with their elbows, squeezing their breasts between the forearms. Some of them knocked against the window panes to attract the attention of the passersby. Others licked their lips with the tip of their tongue to indicate that they knew some very special tricks. And behind the darkened windows sacrifices were brought to the goddess of love.

I went up and down the street with searching eyes and finally selected the first house on the left. I had barely opened the inside glass door when two girls, both dressed in the barest necessities, came out to meet me. Each had thought that I had penetratingly looked at them just before I entered the house. Could I disappoint either one of these creatures? I invited both to come into a room with me. Room would be too nice a word for this miserable stable, furnished with cheap draperies and tapestry. The furniture consisted of a dilapidated sofa covered with a piece of unsightly cloth.

Both girls smiled at me knowingly and one of them asked how we were going to be entertained. She thereby allowed her dress to slip to the floor and now she stood there, wearing only a pair of black silk stockings and scuffed high-heeled black shoes. Then the other one took off her dress, holding her hands pressed against her crotch, plaintively saying, “Oh, I'm so ashamed.”

Both were well built, not really young, but still firm. I felt their breasts and patted their fannies but remained standing, fully dressed, coat buttoned and hat firmly planted on my head. “Well, aren't you gonna take your clothes off?” said the one, and the other asked, “You only wanna watch and see how we make it together? You know, I go down on her and suck her off while you can fuck me in the ass. You're really gonna get something good but it's gonna cost you ten for each of us.” I put one-fifth of the asking price for each of the girls on the sofa and left. In the corridor I met a young fluff who smiled at me, saying, “Come with me, I'll entertain you better.”

She had a nice look on her face and beautiful dark brown eyes. I caressed her cheek but then I was out on the street again, standing in front of the next brightly lit window. I saw a beautiful profile, loose hanging hair, neck and shoulders that were gorgeous and the breasts perfection. She tapped with her fingers against the pane. I walked into the house; into the room. It looked a little bit better than that other room. The girl dropped her shirt, stretched her arms above her head, turned slowly and asked, “Do you think I am beautiful?”

“Yes, girl,” I said, stroking her gorgeous body, “you are truly beautiful. Do you have to live in a place like this?”

“Please, everyone comes up with that question, but no one has ever taken me away from it.”

That irritated me. I took her by the hands and held her at a distance from me. My eyes feasted on her beauty. She said, smiling, “Oh, the way you look at one.” Then she pulled me next to her on a sofa.

“Do you live here?” I asked.

She nodded.

“And you can't get away?”

“I owe the landlady so much money. Please, you don't know how much girls like us have to pay.” She stretched herself. “Stop asking foolish questions. Do you know how to do it good?”

I kissed her beautiful shoulders, I took her breasts in my hands and licked the nipples. I enjoyed her nude beauty, but … I could not get excited. I did not know what had come over me. What did that mean? I pulled the girl up and had her sit on my lap, pressing my face against her gorgeous breasts. She playfully grabbed for my member, her smile faded, making place for a disappointed expression. I was ashamed of myself. But she noticed that and tried to console me, “Oh, well, you are tired today!”

It sounded sweet. I kissed her bosom. A nude bosom, especially a beautiful one, never failed to excite me. I kept kissing. To no avail. I put money on her table and ran away. I became nervous and jittery, a feeling I had never known before. Was I through? No, the girl was not my type.

The next window. A fat slob. I had gone up and down the street once more, looking into every window, when an old woman who was standing in one of the doorways, addressed me. “Sir, I have something delicious for you. Fifteen years old … a virgin.” I wanted to walk past her, but she followed me. “I have beautiful rooms, dear Sir. A couch with saddle, and if you just want to look, I have a couple of very proficient girls.” I turned around and followed the old hag.

“I want to see them all,” I told the crone. And the poor girls arrived, dressed in blue, red and black gowns. There were about seven or eight.

After a while the old woman returned, pushing a little nude girl ahead of her, breasts like rosebuds about to bloom. The girl was blushing and shy. The others, the ones in the gowns, pulled the little one toward them and one of them even caressed her cheeks and gave her a little tender kiss. The old woman asked me to come over to one corner and said, “That is going to be fifty already, Sir.”

I mechanically opened my wallet and handed her the bills. Then I asked her to leave the room and I closed the door, behind which, I was sure, she was listening. I sat down in one of the low easy chairs and ordered the girls to take off their gowns. I wanted to become excited. I felt that my life's happiness depended upon proof tonight that I still could get excited. The girls stood around me in a half-circle, the little one, obviously a novice, walked shyly up to me.

“What are you afraid of? The gentleman won't hurt you,” said one of them, and another added, “My God, stupid girl, all he's gonna do is fuck you, that's why you're here, ain't you? Come on, you'll love it!” The others giggled and felt her lithe young body. They all seemed to have a certain respect for the virginity of the little one. I pulled her up to my lap, stroked her soft skin, nuzzled her little budding breast, the small of her back, kneeding her firm young buttocks. I tried everything I could think of to become excited, but despite an ardent desire, nothing stirred my loins.

One of the girls said, “Why don'tcha take off your clothes? We'll get you horny.” And I started to undress. They all pitched in and helped. They rubbed their breasts against my face and their organs against my hands and body, their pubic hairs tickling me all over. I could feel some life stir in my member. I could have jumped for joy. I took the first best pair of breasts in my hands, rolled the nipples between thumb and forefinger, licked the breasts of another. But when I was standing naked in front of them, the girls made strange faces and one of them said, rather loudly, “Oy, Veh!” A more experienced one opined, “Difficult to stab a virgin with that one.” I could have died from embarrassment.

“I wish you'd kick me to death,” I called out to the girls, throwing myself in desperation upon one of the chairs, covering my face with both hands. I felt like someone who had just been told he has only one more hour to live. The girls stood around me, caressing my hair, my skin; one of them had knelt down and was kissing my member. They were simply nice girls. But my mood had become so foul that I interpreted their goodness as pity, and the one thing I could not take was just that. I jumped up, grabbed for my clothes and asked the girls to leave. When they hesitated, I hollered at them, “Get out!” They left me alone.

I left the house slowly. I stole through the narrow street like a thief and, while I had never cared before that I might meet acquaintances of mine in that district, who — like I — went regularly on the prowl there, I hid my face in my coat collar, turning my head to the side every time someone walked by me. Suddenly I was again in front of that first house on the left, I walked back and looked into the window of the beautiful one. She was still there, as beautiful as ever, and she nodded and smiled at me. I had been embarrassed in front of her already and perhaps my inability was entirely due to the miserable surroundings. I clamped myself to that idea.

“If you could just give yourself some proof of that,” an inner voice kept telling me. Then I had a splendid idea: I liked this beautiful girl very much. I went into the house and entered her room. She looked at me, “No longer tired?” I asked her if she wanted to get away with me. She laughed, “That's impossible. Where would I go with you?”

“Away from here. Completely! I will rent you a place. Do you want to?”

The girl put her hands on my shoulders and looked at me with disbelief. “Don't do that. You shouldn't joke like that.”

It was difficult to convince her that I was serious. She owed the landlady more than one hundred in back rent. So who cared? I had to pay another hundred to free the girl from any future obligations since she had not given any proper notice. I gladly would have given more. Oh, if I could only have the girl with me in a decent hotel room.

It was a joy to watch the excitement that had come over the girl when she realized the sudden change of her fortune. “Do you really like me that much?” she kept asking me. She went through her clothes and asked me what I wanted her to wear. “Something very simple,” I told her. Soon she was dressed, and she looked beautiful. I embraced and kissed her.

Then I took her to the closest cabstand and gave the driver the name of the hotel where I wanted to go.

The girl said fearfully, “That one? They'll never allow me to enter there.”

I quieted her fears, “When you are with me, that I'd like to see.”

I took the most expensive suite. After the dungeons in which I had, spent half the night, I needed some luxury and comfort. The girl held on to me and stared around in surprise when she saw the beautifully appointed rooms. “Ooh, it's just like a dream, I must be a princess in a fairy tale.”

I kissed her again and ordered some choice supper for two and a bottle of champagne. The girl was utterly charming and what surprised me most, her manners and social grace were impeccable.

I did not hear one single rude word, and not a single move betrayed the girl's profession. And most remarkably, when I started to undress her “she blushed. I carried her to the bed and, after I had divested myself of my clothes, crawled in next to her, nestled my head into her lap and fell asleep.

I did not awake till morning and she told me that she had been terribly worried about disturbing my sleep. She had carefully drawn a blanket over me and had not dared to stir or fall asleep, but she added hastily that she had never been so happy in all her life. I took her in my arms and covered her face with kisses, then her entire body, and when I laid myself on top of her to take possession of her, she said, “You know what? I wish that I had been a decent girl so that I could give you everything I have.”

Then she embraced me and kissed me passionately and then…. I could have cried out joyfully, the old desire started to stir within me, and excitement took hold of me as if it was never going to stop again. After I had spent twice, without leaving the girl at all, she took my face between her hands and said, with shining eyes, “You are very strong!” And when I still did not want to get off her, she admonished me softly, “But you have to rest up a little bit, you know, we can do some more of it later on, but for now it has been more than enough, even for me.”

She gave me an almost motherly kiss and put her right arm under my neck, telling me to lie still. Her left hand sneaked downward toward my member and caressed it softly. “It's really ready for a next one!” she exclaimed in surprise. “Let me see that, can I?” She sat up in the bed and lifted the blanket. “Oh, how sweet!” she exclaimed. Thereupon she swung her right leg over my body, straddled me and guided my member deep in her insides.

She stretched voluptuously and the sight of that gorgeous woman topping me was so exciting that I tried to sit up and kiss her body. We spent the entire day in bed.

We ate the leftovers from the previous night. Every time we woke up we'd start kissing, wind up fucking and fall asleep again. There was not a single little spot left on the girl's body I had not kissed. And her beautifully formed behind worked wonders. It excited me just looking at it and I loved to sink my teeth into the elastic white flesh of those gorgeous buttocks.

Late in the afternoon she said, “Boy, now we have to get up, and you should get some fresh air, otherwise you'll wind up with a headache.” She was so nice and charming and pretty that I could not stop covering her with kisses. But this time she did not give in and finally she succeeded in getting me dressed. We went together to the Roman Baths and I would have loved to take my bath together with her. But she told me that for today we had had enough. She was afraid I might strain myself again. She was very adamant and did not want to take a bath together. “We could draw a big fine for that.” After the Baths we went back to the hotel for dinner.”

From there we went to the theater. On our way I bought her an evening gown and cape. She was very happy with that. After the opera we sat in a charming separee and by three o'clock in the morning we were back in bed, nude and in a hot embrace, confessing our love for each other.

A period of happiness began for me. This girl, whom I had found in a house of ill repute, was more decent than any of the fine ladies of good society with whom I had had affairs.

I rented a home for her. A love-nest in which she ruled as a queen. Our nights and days of love were not wild, yet very intense. Secretly I was surprised that this girl had no idea of the existence of the slightly perverted sex which I had encountered among the women and girls of the so-called better classes. I did not introduce her to these things.