I remember her very well- as I should, since I’ve known her for a long time. I only see her sporadically though, and even then we don’t really talk. But as the mother of a childhood friend, she embodies a special role in my life, like most mother figures would. But all that has nothing to do with the last night when I saw her, when I stood in wonder if she was, perhaps, the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
It was at my father’s birthday, I couldn’t remember which to save my life. She was personally invited, like the majority of the women there regardless if they were married or not. The husbands just kind of tagged along because they assumed they too, were invited.
But she was special. I can’t really put my finger on it, if it was because of her age and how well she carried it, or the fact that I got to witness her divorce and mental breakdown from a great distance, through children’s eyes. She recovered and went on in life, calloused and alone. But she seemed happy, in her own right- In fact, that night, she was dancing.
Who ever the fuck is responsible for this weather of late, can get raped and fuck off. Three god damn collapses in one summer, after these structures have proven themselves capable of handling any kind of weather.
The last one, in Belgium. Several structures collapsed, even trees came down, killing 5, possibly more.
This is our turf! We don’t build these particular structures (anymore) but this is our steel! We’re the ones responsible for those people’s safety and even if we manage not to blame ourselves for things beyond our control, someone sure as hell will.
Those people. I’m sure you’ve met them. Pedestrians who stop in front of the red light with not a car in sight. Travelers who still don’t realize the train doors are automatic, pulling frantically on them. Who don’t know what a scroll wheel is for. Who have accepted “I don’t know” as their reality.
You wonder how they survive, sometimes. How Darwin’s theory could possibly explain a breed of human who couldn’t survive for longer than two days if their prefab food supply ended, who seem to have lost all capability of reasoning, or slightest curiosity.
What a terrible place the world must be for them. Things happen all the time and they can’t explain why. They are good at their jobs because it’s what they’re trained for and it’s all they know- they need help doing anything else, from fixing a tap to developing a political identity. What a confusing place this must be, where magic seems to dictate the course of events.
I’m beginning to believe Belgium has reached the end of the line if it comes to humans civilization. Sure, we have a kingdom just like in Lord of the Rings trilogy, but our king has been neutered and ridiculed to folklore status. We’re a full-blown democracy, so much even, that we’ve become divided to the point where just about every individual is in politics and nobody gets along, anymore.
Sure, things could get better, but as I write this I am sitting in a heated room with lights and clean, running water, communicating beyond space and time on something ridiculously far-fetched we call the internet. In the last week, I didn’t have to lift a finger to provide for any of this. If life were any easier on me, I’d be floating in a tank of mineralized water, with whale sounds in my headphones and my dick sucked by your mother.
Near my spot in the Ghent Festival there was a toilet exclusively for women. There was a picture on the wall with a schematic on how to use it, because it needed one. Judging from the mechanics, it seemed an unhygienic and difficult affair, but then I never really tried it for obvious reasons.
It was free, too, which is very unusual. You see, we men have the natural advantage of being able to piss everywhere, at any time. It’s as simple as breaking out our junk and marking whatever is in front of us. This leads to some serious problems during the festivals, because some of us don’t have the decency or bladder control not to do it where others are sitting.
So they place urinals all over the place so that we apes, don’t have to walk further than 50m when we need to piss. Any further is past the “convenience” limit and leads to concentrated problem areas. For women, it’s a different story. They usually have to carry a cork around because female toilets are few and far apart, and cost 50 cents.