15 August 2019

LOOK: F***ing Good Post



dress Asos, shoes Betsey Johnson by Zalando, handbag Notino, ring Swarovski


If I could choose a few important things in the world, one of them would be something that is hard to find. Something that can't be won, can't be bought, easy to lose, even though it's big and takes up a lot of space in your heart. It's a friendship.

Friendship is…

Now there should be thousands of words and a thousand lies and a lot of metaphors, and I could make a real cringe out of this post. Many people would surely be found in it. If not all. In the best case, everyone would choose the best, in the worst case I would lose two and a half friends. And maybe my chihuahua would also read it because I believe in her superhuman abilities, or some super intelligent alpha male shepherd would translate it to her to dog language and I would be totally fucked up (because I would lose my last friend). Fucked up. I am not ashamed of this word and will not take it back. And I'll just repeat it. Fucked up. Because it belongs to the dictionary. Just as there is the word beautiful, fucked up has the same weight and there is nothing that could be written easier. Better. Meaningful. And after all, fucked up is such an important thing. We teach children not to talk vulgary, because we are afraid that the kindergarden will think that we talk vulgary at home, even if I don't know anyone who didn't say something similar at least once when s/he kicked her/his little toe. Only stupid people talk vulgary. With low IQ, no education, tattoos, and unproductive work, poorly raised. If only it was fucking true.

But I wanted to write about a friendship… which I probably won't get to because I got stuck with kids and upbringing and the world and
is it really (?) okay to let the child of a good parent pee in the city on the sidewalk, but the dog poop is a scandalous thing. It is okay to go to work with a piercing, but just before the door, it must be put in the compartment in the purse that was designed and manufactured specifically for this purpose to store piercings. It's okay to get tattooed and wear long sleeved shirts on them. Because we look so scandalous. I will not name one of my acquaintances, nor will I not write that it is my sister who is very ashamed to drink. Because it may offend others. Cheers sister. Guess what I'm doing right now. I drink to your health and I love you. We go to a psychologist secretly and we let ourselves be secretly shut into super secret psychiatric clinics, which are mostly cut off from the rest of the world and far from normal people. It is really scandalous. We also hide scars, after knives, after unborn children, which could pee on the sidewalk and we would love them, and we also hide scars on our soul. What if somebody saw them, what would they think, that we were unbalanced people? And it's not in vogue. Point your finger at someone who has no diagnosis and I'll do something big… Really. Secretly at home. On the toilet. Sometimes I just write and then delete it again because I write something really scandalous.

But who is outraged by stupidity, which really has no borders. And if it had wings, it would fly all the way to the black hole. And on its way, it would shit on every single head of those who are outragers. I am thinking about when I heard something really stupid. It was about two hours ago. When someone told me that... but I'm the one who is silent. Who only speaks when writing. With a finger in the air.

Ak by som si mohla vybrať niekoľko dôležitostí na svete, jednou z nich by bolo čosi, čo je ťažko zohnateľné. Niečo, čo sa nedá vyhrať, nedá sa kúpiť, dá sa ľahko stratiť aj napriek tomu, že je to veľké a zaberie to veľa miesta. V srdci. Je to priateľstvo.

Priateľstvo je…

Teraz by malo nasledovať tisíc slov a tisíc klamstiev a kopec metafor a dokázala by som z tohto postu urobiť poriadny gýč. Veľa ľudí by sa v ňom určite našlo. Ak nie všetci. V tom lepšom prípade by si každý vybral to najlepšie, v tom horšom by som prišla o svojich 2 a pol priateľov. A možno by si to prečítala aj moja čivava, pretože verím v jej nadľudské schopnosti, alebo by jej to nejaký super inteligentný alfa samec vlčiak preložil a ja by som tak bola úplne ale úplne v riti (lebo by som prišla o svojho posledného priateľa). Riť. Nehanbím sa za toto slovo a nevezmem ho späť. A kľudne ho zopakujem. Riť riť riť. Pretože do slovníka patrí. Tak ako tam patrí slovo krásny, takú rovnakú váhu má aj riť a neexistuje nič, čo by sa dalo napísať jednoduchšie. Lepšie. Zmysluplnejšie. A riť je koniec koncov tak dôležitá vec. Chcelo sa mi napísať sexi, ale o tom tento post nemá byť. Učíme deti nenadávať, aby si náhodou v škôlke nepomysleli, že doma nadávame, aj keď nepoznám nikoho, kto si aspoň raz poriadne nezaklial, keď si nakopol malíček. Nadávajú len stupídny ľudia. S nízkym IQ, bez vzdelania, potetovaní, a v neperspektívnej práci, zle vychovaní. Keby to bola aspoň kurva pravda.

Ale chcela som o priateľstve…, ku ktorému sa asi už nedostanem, lebo som sa zasekla pri deťoch a výchove a zadku a
je naozaj (?) v poriadku nechať dieťa super nenadávajúceho rodiča cikať v meste na chodník, ale psie hovienko pohoršuje pohoršujúcich sa. Je v poriadku chodiť do práce s piercingom ale tesne pred dverami sa musí odložiť do priehradky v kabelke, ktorá bola určená a vyrobená presne na tento účel, na odkladanie piercingov. Je v poriadku nechať sa potetovať a nosiť na ne/určité miesta košele s dlhým rukávom. Lebo by sme mohli pohoršiť pohoršiteľných. Jedna moja známa nebudem menovať a nie ani nenapíšem že je to moja sestra sa strašne hanbí piť. Lebo to môže pohoršovať druhých a nabáda mňa nenápadne k detoxu. Nazdravie sestrička. Hádaj čo práve teraz robím. Pijem na tvoje zdravie a mám ťa rada. Chodíme tajne k psychológovi a nechávame sa zatvárať veľmi tajne do super tajných psychiatrických liečební, ktoré sú zväčša odrezané od sveta a ďaleko od normálnych pohoršujúcich sa ľudí. Je to totiž riadne pohoršujúce. Skrývame aj jazvy, po nožoch, po sklapeloch, po nenarodených deťoch, ktoré by cikali na chodník a my by sme ich zato milovali a skrývame aj jazvy na duši. Veď čo ak by ich niekto videl, čo by si asi pomyslel, že sme nevyrovnané osoby. A to nie je v móde. Ukážte prstom na niekoho, kto nemá žiadnu diagnózu a ja urobím niečo, veľké… Fakt. Tajne doma. Na záchode. Niekedy len píšem a potom zas mažem, lebo napíšem niečo riadne pohoršujúce. Z mojich pomazaných poznámok by raz bola pohoršujúca kniha.

Lenže koho pohošuje hlúposť. Ktorá naozaj nemá hraníc. A ak by mala krídla, zaletela by až do čiernej diery. A na jej ceste by posrala hlavu každému pohoršujúcemu. Rozmýšľam, kedy som počula niečo hlúpe. Bolo to asi pred dvomi hodinami. Keď mi niekto povedal, že… lenže ja som tá, ktorá mlčí. Ktorá hovorí len keď píše. Prstom do vzduchu.


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