Before children are born, their lips are touched by the angels of oblivion. It’s why we can remember the past but not the future. But they did miss one, which was born with the gift of foresight.
Imagine, as this child, it turns out you chose the wrong parents. A couple who seemed a viable choice, turns into a family destroyed and the child is forced to choose once again, between two parents he equally loves. Wouldn’t you want to know the consequences of your choice? If the promise of true happiness lies within your grasp, wouldn’t you reach?
And so, the story of Nemo Nobody begins. Or rather, stories.
So there we go, In Belgium too have the calculations been made: Some small percentage owns some large percentage of the country’s income. I don’t remember exact percentages and you know why that is? It’s because I couldn’t give a good god motherfucking damn about any of it.
I make an average of €1,000 per month- not calculating in the winter months, where my income often dips below €600. This submerges me entirely under the poverty line and proves the sneaking suspicion I might have had before: I am not only part of that percentage, but probably the bottom part. Other people have a lot more than me.