Last night, I was invited to this little farewell house party by a friend of a friend of mine. Little did I know, there were uhmm... more people in it. And not just any people, the people I have been avoiding these days. Not that I want to sound too misanthropic. Not that I want to label them. Just the typical horde of tourists and the 'yeah but...' people, there you go.
After traveling and living in other countries for the past few years, I have decided to settle down for a bit and take a break from meeting the 'yeah but...' people. The intermingling of 'yeah but...' people give them a chance to bitch about each other. I can't see the goodness in people because people are the worst. I'm now on constant red alert for disappointment. As I continue to breathe and stay alive amongst the living in this used-to-be paradise, I realized that I haven't escaped them totally. 'Yeah but' people are everywhere. Me against them.
I think it would be too politically incorrect to specifically name the 'yeah but' people. So I'm not going to say that they are the conversation energy sucker Germans, entitled French, obnoxious Americans, arrogant Dutch, Weird Eastern Europeans, Jumping Japanese or the uber machismo womanizer local men. Nobody's better. God, if you are from some weird country like Djibouti or something, I would probably still have something to say against you. Say that again? You mean I'm rude and politically incorrect? Naaaa, it must be my uncivilized upbringing due to neglect caused by borderline poverty. Or my insecurity due to the catastrophic colonization and bastardization. Naaa, I'm over it. Truly. I don't care what you think. I'm over the over politeness, pretense, and pleasantries because let's face it, it's hard to get along. At the end of the day, John Lennon still thinks you are a peasant and nothing more. So revel in your new-found gangsta freedom, it sure feels good, isn't it? But please, spare me this perpetual otherizing question 'Where are you from?'. Don't pretend you don't know how to judge. I guess this is what happens when you live in an overly touristic area amidst the neverending battle - locals against the intruders. The madness. Travel is indeed subject to the stranglehold of bigotry and prejudice.
Yeah but...people are people.
Poor me, heroes, victims, preys and predators. They are all people.
Endless justifications and rationalizations of why people behave the way they do. From the upbringing, environment, cultural conditioning to centuries of oppression. You name it, there are many reasons. Reasons? Humans are irrational to the bone. I included. Me too, poor me.
Since when my mouth has become unstoppable? Not in kissing or God knows what, in saying one harsh word after the other. Since when did I become brutally honest with people without a slight care about their feelings? Feelings? Yuck.
One more shot of Pálinka, a so-called fruit brandy from some weird expat Hungarian that was about to bring out the worst in me. Fuck you very much. No animals were harmed. Oops, I heard the magic phrase again...'yeah but.' Do you require me to repress the alcoholic effect until such time that I can go run around and stab random people? Of course not, so truth be told now.
Naaa this is not Anarchy in the UK or something. Thankfully, I'm still not that overly patriotic, God-forbid I hate those types. Nationalism is a disease, really. God I even hate my neighbors. Is there a God? Love thy neighbors, is what I'm going to imprint on their headstones. Not before they bury me first.
Yeah but in Germany, we care about the environment...
Yeah but we don't have that in America...
Yeah but I'm vegan.
Yeah but in France we have better this and that...
Yeah but I'm better than you.
'Yeah but...' is the real diabolical phrase, don't you think? It makes the point of all the conversation and intermingling of people about that typical I am right and I am better than you. We have it better.
Ahhh that must be your typical Nazi-complex, I finally told the German guy in the room, God knows what's his name. Who cares? I felt so free being drunk sometimes. I can say whatever I want in a bad way. It must be that I-don't-give-a-shit-about-what-you-think complex. The young tattoed English girl must have liked me, I think she's Lesbian. I'm paranoid that people like me. Other people, me, and alcohol are such a bad cocktail mix. Chaos. All the mess that has been forcefully-injected in my system when I got stuck in this forever congested travelers' route.
I went back to the conversation with the weird Hungarian guy who lives here for a while now. And no, I don't have a number, no social media...nada. I drunkenly told him, you only feel like a Messiah because you are on the island. If you go live in the capital, the educated, radical and middle-class snotty people will just ignore you. They patronize white people in the countryside because they make money off you. Walking goldmines. There you go.
Oh, by the way, thanks for the Palinka, I finally said in my sweetest smile.
See you all, never!
Is this my time to shine and forcefully let out my self-esteem issues to other people. Or am I imposing my own Goddess-complex to make myself feel better? Am I now resorting to the level of their psychopathic brokenness and becoming one of those 'yeah but...' people.
Yeah but...people are people, right?