Western life

​It’s fucked. Ukraine vs Russia. Russia vs Europe, NATO and the whole West. Never did I care about these geopolitical bullshit scenarios. Not until someone I love is working too close to it for me to not mind. Plus, well, living so near to the nuclear splash-zone is not great for me either, logistic-wise. So now Putin comes on tv with his modern dictator speech and I go from worrying about my anxiety and lack of sleep, to be concerned with the possibility of a full-blown armed conflict that will fuck everything up for me and for many of the people I care about. Not cool, you bald-ass Russian cunt!
Last night I dreamt I was staying over at my parents’, with my ex C. I guess it was the subconscious need for safety, in what’s familiar. And if the world goes to shit, if nobody else remains, it seems my lizard brain already decided who should be there by my side to repopulate Earth. From the comfort of my roots in Lo Prado, nonetheless. Hilarious.
On a serious note, I wonder what’s gonna happen in the near future, and how an actual war would affect Europe, Denmark and me. If shit hits the fan, I can always flee back home, far away in the other side of the world. But, do I wanna? Not really. That’d be the very definition of failure to me. On the flip side, though, WWIII (or whatever the fuck they’ll end up calling it in the history books) seems like a pretty compelling argument to not punishing myself for not “making it.” Silver linings!
Hopefully, this dick measuring contest that Vlad P. has going on won’t escalate. And then, maybe whom I am afraid could be too close to the crossfire, will rethink what they are doing. And them and all my other Europe inhabiting loved ones stay safe. To continue fucking up. And learning. And loving and caring and all of those good things one can do when still alive.

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published.