Saturday, March 05, 2005
Flared nostrils and beating eardrums
Zip home, still relatively angry about nothing. Mope. Tea with RV. Then Clarity. It's like a pill. Head to Cuba Norte to meet two geeks called AM. Then onto enormous flat in the cleaner part of town, where the BMW's are shiny. AB sought to dilute the pain of the clock pointing North. Music (loud), Chemicals (aplenty), Company (partay). AB points to the stencil on the wall. "It's a genuine Banksy" he says without actually realizing the irony in his statement. (hint: think anti-establishment, anti-capitalism).
A mindfield of social awkwardness that could have been. Yet wasn't. Getting home at 6am means I had a good time. I remember a few things:
The only true love that can exist is the love which you can have for yourself. The survival instinct shot altruism clean out of an azure blue sky before it was ever born.
Taboos, dwindling in numbers now, with a hardcore of sociopaths vying to break them. Always intriguing. Consider a parent feeling ice cold contempt for their child. Can this be?
The tag working class ceases to exist beyond the ghetto. You can educate out the schemy-ness in the schemy. And when you're comfortably numbing to the realities of life in your 15th floor corner office, you will not, and cannot, possibly understand the roots of your ambitions. The child has died, the dream (not nightmare) defeated, and you are all that you once abhorred.
What caused the schism leading to 3 distinct flavours of homo sapien. Are there intrinsic differences in the natural abilities of these three (african, caucasian, asian). I would add Dravidian and Polynesian to these, leading to 5 groups, AM was having none of it. My argument - not a control experiment. No means to compare. Check back in 50 years. But even if Chinese becomes the national language for most African countries, I can pin it on the headstart. Void discussion.
Can you really feel nothing? AM states that there is nothing in his life that he wouldn't give up. I believe him. What really struck me was his complete ambivalence to simply being. Passion: Nada. Is it time to go live in the Andes, and discover what makes him happy, or is he happy now?
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