Finally, the "Komedianten Revue" is finished. Two weeks of standing still with a big-ass spotlight in your hands, trying desperately not to lose your focus (with my attention span, that’s near impossible) and keeping your beam on the actors, gets under your skin. Lousy humor, an asshole director, after seeing the show about 20 times I was ready to crack.
Yet still, now that she show is over and I get some time by myself, which I used to be so fond of, I find myself looking for some sort of comforting. Instead of feeling relieved, I’m getting this strange void to face. Not illogic, but still unexpected. Things got into a slipstream the last two weeks and it seems it all just passed me by as I was running to catch my train again (show stops at 22.55, I have a train at 23.05; 4 blocks away). Luckily there’s VNV Nation to keep me company, but still.
Our friend was cremated, of course I wasn’t there as I had to work late the day before. I found the death card on our table, I read half and set it down again. It said something about please letting her sleep because she has nothing to wake up for, said on december 2006.
It seems not thinking about it is the best way to deal with things, at least for me. My father and I share this insane need to analyze things and I would only rethink it over enough to go mad eventually. I still don’t get why, but it seems my father has a far more clearer perspective on the matter. I can’t help envy him for it. He has far less problem forgiving her, because he knew much better what she was going through.
When you are depressed, the medical kind where there is litterally something going wrong inside your brain, your perception of reality changes. What into, I really don’t know, but it sure as shit can’t be pretty. It’s hell on earth, and no words or thoughts can’t change that. Only one thing can, and that’s eventually what she chose for.
It didn’t have to end this way, but it did. I hope she finds the peace she craved. But I can talk all the fuck I want; hoping, begging, praying, it’s not going to change a goddamn thing. My vision on this is about as clouded and subjective as it gets and basically doesn’t matter the tiniest bit. I suppose the best I can do is face up and live my own life. Still, however useless, the hope is still there.
Depending on which side of the globe you are on, you can look up at the night sky, and if you squint, you can see a tiny crack there. The darkness of the universe is starting to break down and the light of the infinity beyond is seeping through. Soon it will burn us all and we will all die in every way possible and several ways theoretically impossible.
The reason why? I’ll tell you why. My father is getting married. Jesus Maynard Fucking Christ, call Gabriel and the winged space patrol because this will end bad.
Yeah okay, I’m overreacting. But please, I honestly don’t quite get what’s happening. Seriously, wat the hell? No one in this family can stand this woman and sometimes I even doubt my father can.
Suave as always, I of course had to ask why. The answer was something along the lines of "Wel if anything would happen to me, I wouldn’t want her to end up on the streets. Also, there is the emotional factor." That’s just typical. "Uh yeah, we’re getting married for the emotional factor." Ain’t that just romantic.
This means one thing, though: If my father dies, his posessions go to her. This house and the things in it are worth millions of euros. When it belongs to her, and she dies, the said millions will go to Her children. Not us. I’m no materialist and I mean, what’s a couple million euros, but still you can’t help feeling a little swindled. The opportunity to buy my own place and maybe travel some, save, hell I don’t know- just takes a nice detour and ends up with this woman and her two daughters. I don’t want to seem rude or greedy, but honestly that bothers me a bit. I’ll have to talk to him about it.
Anyway. So he’s still getting married this or next year. All in all, I’ve been living with her for 6 years and I want to get out of here asap so I’ll live. I am patient enough and let’s face facts, she’s not That much of a nuisance to have around. Still, my sister and myself can’t help idolizing our biological mother, and having this woman here, let alone married to my father, seems like pure sacrilige to us.
Oh yeah, on a side note:
Happy Newyear to everyone I care enough about. I hope you had a good start of a good year. If you need a face to break, most of you have my number.
Speaking of which, the start of mine pretty much sucked. Not terribly, but enough. During countdown itself I was working, spent the next two hours waiting for my girlfriend at some party, and took disco music to the balls for the rest of the night.
What still made it worth while for me though, was seeing some friends again. Old pals and new acquaintances, and even an old teacher of mine that I talked to without even recognizing. Funny thing was, my girlfriend knows her as well, and she is the one who reminded us. Coincidentally, someone I know from capoeira class overheard the conversation while I was elsewhere. I never thought he liked me very much, but apparently they both agreed "I had a good heart". The teacher in question used to teach christian religion, so not much surprise there.
Still, I was very flattered when I heard. A good heart is a great thing to have. And honestly, I didn’t think I did very well impressing either of them, so I must say I was pleasantly surprised.
Simple compliments do the strangest things with you when caught off guard.
Both work voluntarily for a non-profit organisation called "De Ingang" (The Entrance, literally), which puts together classes such as the capoeira class I am attending. I recently got an email of them, mentioning several courses you can subscribe to, and way at the bottom, a call for volunteers to hang posters and spread pamphlets. I replied to it, saying I am very willing to help out.
Yay, one more opportunity to get my hands dirty. I hope I can help out some.