All-organic weirdness

Category: Thoughts on humans (Page 2 of 4)

Barstool.

Who told him that it’s cool going to a bar alone? To a club? To anywhere? Maybe it’s literature with its undeniably attractive, mystique, dark and complex characters. Maybe it’s just his feeling. Maybe it’s not weird at all. Who knows.

He dusts off his leather jacket and hangs it onto the hook beneath the bar. Ignored by the barmaid in the Adidas tracksuit who has been working there forever. The are bonded. Bonded by the story of this place. Both seek recognition. Her, by being the master of the beer and alcoholic beverages. The one thing that people crave. Why else would they come here if it weren’t for the bitter taste of alcohol, pacifier of peoples.

He is here because it seems to look cool. Why it does, if it does, he will never know. Maybe it depends on the spectator.

People going in and out, what’s steady in this booze-fuelled spectacle? We didn’t hear from this place just because it hosts the deepest of our desires. We are sitting on it. What if I were not having my barstool? The steady fort from which I tower above you? It might be level, but I am far away. I will be here, on the cliff. The cliff of solitude. Only the arms of the barmaid can reach me.

Am I lonely, you ask? Well, it depends on the spectator.

However, I’ll be here. With my barstool. Cheers all you people down there.

Toes.

Humanity has walked many paths. It might walk down the path of self-destruction as these lines are being written and you, reading this. It might walk the path of ascending to a place where no civilisation has ever been before. We never know. What we do know is this: there is something always ahead of us. It’s part of us but we never acknowledge them. It’s our toes.

When do we feel them? When bumping into furniture. Or when taking socks off to feel the grass / sand / water between them. Pleasure and pain, yet again so close. Every step that we take towards doom, pleasure or, said more normative, the right or wrong way, our toes are in the forefront of everything. So why not give them more importance? We could base society more on these little fleshy things that are hidden most of the time.

For sure, the big toe is a force to be reckon with in this new society. You can already see it, in sandals for example. The big toe is parted by the others. But how do we measure who is to be the ruler, the peak of toe-performance? Toes can be ugly, cute, beautiful, sick…. All of these classifications are in the eye of the spectator. So how do we measure? Well, measure is the right way actually.

Queens and kings, nobility, that is people with long toes. In relation to their feet of course. Bear with me on this one. So, toes are at the forefront of literally, gaining ground. And people with longer toes in relation to feet size are, of course, able to gain more ground.

I myself am a peasant. It is hard to come to that realisation. So even as the creator of this new order I have fallen to the lowest position in this feudal toe-system. Perhaps it is wise to abolish these standards. Perhaps we should stop doing the same for other body parts. Perhaps, we can strive, as a civilisation, only when we stop comparing. Not just toes.

Flush.

Recently, he hasn’t been feeling well. It’s not like anything spectacular or tragic happened, it is this sense of detachment that comes with loosing grip. If he is being honest with himself, he didn’t treat himself right. It’s all just temporary, he lies to himself. Jake who sits in the next cubicle could even see it and hear it. He is embarrassed.

“Hey, are you alright? You look a little off, my dude!”, drawing on his plastic vape pen, exhaling Watermelon-Cottoncandy supreme.

It made him even more sick. Maybe it’s the people around me, he asked himself. Maybe I just need to change my environment. That’s it, for sure. All will be good and I can finally find my peace.

He lied to himself.

Even at home he didn’t feel comfortable anymore. Nothing provided coziness in his home.

“That’s called Hygge my dude.”

Shut up Jake.

Usually he can endure those scrolling, ponytailed, high-confidence, higher-anxiety, e-Scooting, Tinder-dating, Craft-everything-drinking, non-farting types of people.

Not today, Jake!

And that’s for all the Jakes out there, and those who aren’t called Jake but act like Jake and sorry to those who are accidentally included here but are actually not a Jake.

The thought of the word Jake made him flinch and tension. A sudden release. Satisfaction. Bliss.

He stood up and pushed the button. The toilet flushed.

Thanks,

Jake.

Nut.

“Hey man, I just found this amazing berry! Look at it, it´s huge! I don´t know why your are still wasting your time searching over there. Just get here, man!”

This guy, always shouting and boasting, I am really tired of it. Not for once he can shut up about his stupid berries. We are all searching here, we get it. It´s not like you are the first one to ever find something. For days we have been flying around these woods, jumping from twig to twig, always blindly following the one who finds something. What´s the sense of flying in a group when everyone is just looking at the same spot? Why can´t we split up? And why the hell am I not just going somewhere else?

“Hey man, I just found this amazing berry!”

Here we go again. Again, the same spot. Same people. Why are the places wherever we find something special attracting everyone else to come there? Are we just blindly searching for thrill, for food, for entertainment? What do we expect to happen there? It is the same place, it is the same people. Isn´t craziness defined by repeating the same action and expecting a different result each time? Are we all just going crazy?

“Hey man, I just found this amazing berry!”

Are we crazy or just so occupied with whatever we are trying to do and trying to show to others that we don´t realise that we are stuck in repeating the same routine? Why do we have spots where everyone is, searching for the same thing? Why the hell is nobody leaving this devil´s circle? Why not me?

“Hey man, I just found this amazing berry!”

We move in flocks, we are born in flocks, we die in flocks. Twig to twig, tree to tree. I don´t even remember where I have been lately. I have just a memory what the others have done, what they found, on the search for food in the autumn. Life is hard for a tiny bird in winter. Maybe I can´t survive on my own. Maybe I won´t find anything. And if I find something, who can I tell about it? Am I even finding something when I can´t tell anyone? Do I exist when there is no other bird around me? Is that why we constantly exclaim anything, chirping? Is it just the fear of the silence, the darkness, the loneliness?

Hey man, I just found this huge nut!

Get over here.

Cup.

You turn into Stepańska street. I sit down.

Still a little hungover I am sitting in my favorite cafe, surrounded by wooden walls covered in old movie posters. I breathe in the coffee-filled air and immediately begin to cough. My body isn’t ready yet.

You stop at the old Antikvariat and look at the newest old books. I order an espresso.

The last week has passed by very fast and it seemed to have no significant events to make it memorable. I wonder how many of those weeks have already passed. How many of these weeks I am unable to reminisce about are still to come?

You continue walking up the road. I get my espresso.

It’s Sunday and once again the streets seem empty. Well, despite the people heading for brunch or breakfast or lunch or just to have a walk. I seem like one of them, I don’t like it. Weekdays I can sit around and feel good about doing nothing while others are working. But if nobody is working, what’s my role in this whole thing?

You pass the window of the cafe. I look outside.

You are terrifying. My stomach hurts a little while I try to understand what just happened. A little Film sequence was running in my head. Oh how much we could experience. How much we could grow together, see things from a different perspective. How compassion grows and creates the bubble around us. I won’t ever feel cold again.

You passed by. I am looking after you, disappearing.

I now bow my head. I didn’t expect this to be the memorable moment of this week for me to remember. I taste the espresso, it’s bittersweet. I put down the cup. It is beautiful. Deep blue with golden edges. Never before have I seen such a composition between the deep colours of coffee and blue.

You turn around the corner. I drink the rest and pay.

I’ll be back again, for you, my shining deep, my espresso cup.

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