They made fun of Joseph, because of his name. And because of his ears too. He had big ears, they told him he could get satellite with it. He began to wear hats all the time, inside outside. Hats were the first shield he found, a cheap one, but effective most of the time. Then he told everyone to call him Joe. There was no more Joseph. Joseph was nothing but a nightmare, a pathetic sod, a poor excuse for a human being. That was what growing up meant to him, and when people laughed about these years, he did not. He watched over those years as a precious jewel, his own personal treasure. Continue reading
I’m tempted to write about how much this means to me. I really am. But then again, should I? I mean, who’s going to read to this? People are going to judge me? I don’t know. I feel terrible about all of this. And I can’t even begin to think about what “this” it. Strange, isn’t it? I know. The perks of being a human being. A man. A woman. A complicated walking thing. Yes, sucks. I know. But to be honest with you that wasn’t the point. Of all this I mean, of this nonsense. And not, the life part. That is a bigger nonsense that I couldn’t even try to put into words. Even images wouldn’t be accurate enough. No, what I mean is, gosh, where am I going with this? Well, okay. Let’s start again. Something happened recently. Something terrible, or something really good, depending on perspectives. And that’s the thing – I am both perspectives. I can’t say whether or not I’m pleased, or sad, or mad. Whatever. I can’t say anything anymore, about me, that is. And this, this impression, this feeling. This means a lot to me. Somewhere somehow, in a way, that’s what real freedom is. How? you’d ask. Well hold on a second. Close your apps and settle your phone down. Look at me and think. Just imagine you react to something without any preconceived moral, knowledge, rule of thumb or whatever the fuck, sorry, crossing that fuck out, or whatever else you could think of. Imagine reacting to something as if it was the first time you ever saw such a thing, as if you were back to being a child, not caring about oil, politics, psychopaths, cold pizza, whatever. Just imagine. Do you see what I mean? Continue reading
We drove for about three hours after that. I didn’t have any idea of where he was taking me, but I was sure things were going to end badly. Have I ever told you about Aliena? I don’t think I have. Aliena was the name of a girl I met when I was sixteen. She was young, sweet, beautiful, rebellious. Everything you wanted her to be, she was. She had one of those faces, she’d say. But mostly, she was bad news for me, and for anyone else around. Like most, I immediately fell for her. And for no reason at that – I mean, I barely knew her, she had said hi to me a couple of times here and there, but that was the end of it. It took me a long time but I eventually managed to know the places she liked to go to, where she liked to drink her green tea, those kinds of things. My plan was simple enough : get there, don’t make a fool of myself, and obviously willingly bump into her pretending it was an accident. It was around that however that I began to realize that my life had four rules that I can’t ignore. But I’ll come back to that in a moment. Continue reading
After a while, people started to get used to everything that was happening. The terrible things, I mean. The wrong people were being elected almost everywhere, it seemed as if peace was turning into another simple five letter word which nobody really paid attention to. Cars were stolen and thrown onto men, women, husbands, wives and children; all of that, for no other justification than complete and utter misunderstandings. That, Kid, that took a hell of a lot out of me, and out of a lot of people. Our lives quickly changed – simplified by that ridiculous and yet harsh truth : you knew things would turn out to shite, you just did not know when. All in all, with hindsight, I would now say that it was more waiting than really living at all, you know? Continue reading
“I’ve had a hard time sleeping these past few nights.”
“Is that why you’re acting so weird?”
“Actually, more than just these past few nights.”
“And actually, more erratic than weird.”
She stood up from her stool, drew it closer to him and sat again. There was an echo, but nothing in sight which could have caused it. Stranger things have been known to happen.
“What’s up?” she asked.
He sighed heavily, probably unsure as to what he should answer. The pause was of those moments you think will never end.
“I … I think I don’t even know. You know?”
“And here I was thinking you couldn’t get any weirder.”
“You don’t seem to know about compassion.”
“I think you ought to talk about empathy here. But nevermind. What do you mean, you don’t know?”
He sighed again, but differently. Can difference be similar? That was the sort of question floating about in his head; things like that had been torturing him his whole life. Until then; until now, he thought. Continue reading