I studied Russian in college. Every year we had to read about 20 novels. You know, Russian classics. The kind of tomes you can use as bricks to build a shed or a small bunker.
Books like War and Peace, Crime and Punishment, The Brothers Karamazov.
I would be inside most of the time, just reading in a rocking chair. My mind would wander a lot, but back then there was a lot less distraction. The distraction came more from within than from outside.
I had no internet connection, there were no video games on my old computer and none on my NOKIA phone.
It was 2005, but I still wrote hand written letters and sent them by mail.
I got violently sick once. The most ill I have ever been. I was alone all the time because it was the Easter holidays. The only thing that made me feel less nauseous was listening to Nirvana. The 3 cd box ‘With the lights out.’
Days could creep by back then. A day back then could feel like several months today.
I was completely unfamiliar with the feeling of waking up, habitually grabbing your smartphone and immediately being pissed off by some asshole commenting on something you wrote: ‘hey nitwit, America has a better life expectancy than Italy.’ Which is of course completely false information. There was none of that. You didn’t get into silly arguments with angry strangers. Ever.
Information came to us from a book. If you wanted to look something up you went to the library. You sat in the park with the books you had borrowed.
I think it was a better time. Stupidity was more hidden. Anger and stupidity did not have such an easy forum.
If you wanted porn you had to go out. The extra effort required made sure you thought more than twice about. Usually settling for the power of your imagination. Letting shame and laziness triumph.
We thought Bush was the lowest of the low. How wrong we were.
We still believed the media were telling us the truth. And then it became obvious Saddam had no weapons of mass destruction and slowly we started questioning everything. Friends started thinking the Matrix might be kinda real.
We eventually went from watching series like Friends and syrupy sweet Dawson’s Creek to Breaking Bad or Nip Tuck (about two plastic surgeons) and it became undeniable that the world is in many ways a shitty place.
I eventually went into hiding in Slovakia. A country that struck me as somehow behind the times, pristine, innocent. Then a journalist and his fiance got brutally murdered here. And you see even smart people with physics degrees being duped by mainstream media propaganda.
And every day you ask yourself:
Should I join in the join and fight for what I strongly believe in or should I crawl away in my corner, cocoon, make some money and find comfort in the fact that am already too old to one day have to live through the final stages of our ruin? I suppose were heading for some self-imposed dystopia. The writing has been on the wall for a while now. ‘Inverted totalitarianism’ as Sheldon Wolin called it.
I’m just tired.
Tired of people.
Tired of misinformation.
Tired of everyone thinking they know it all and only their perspective is the correct one.
Tired of the constant imperative to make money.
Tired of seeing how all relationships become some form of bartering.
Tired of how administrative shit is more important than doing your actual job.
Tired of seeing how the least well-meaning, most narcissistic people are the loudest.
‘The biggest challenge in life is to not become bitter’, Louis Paul Boon.
In the picture you can see how my walls looked like Instagram looks today.