Not enough has been written about the courage it takes to fart while having the stomach flu. That I came to realize upon coming back to Sweden, after an intensive week of giving conferences and interviews about Cuenta siempre contigo, around Spain.
For almost the entire week I have been on an voluntary asylum having my movements restricted between the bed and the toilet chair. “How’s Mr. Roca?” (Roca Ceramics is the largest bathroom ceramics producer in Spain) a friend was texting me, “Baš te prosralo sa promocijom knjige“ (it would mean something like: Some great shit with your book promotion) my brother was writing. (I’ll keep the response for Christmas)
Our dog was peeping from the door of the small guest room where I was self-exiled, but I guess the part of men’s best friend doesn’t include the “in Sickness and in Hell” clause. After noticing that something smelled funny he would wisely turn around. At the same time, my dear wife, who did sign the S&H clause (and was cruelly not granted to do more extra hours at work), was walking around opening windows as I would pass holding the disinfection kit in her hands and her soft whisper would blend with the spray of Ajax saying “I love you”. It still echoes in my memories carrying the smell of lavender extract essence that followed my path. Oh, l’amour! Oh, glamour!
And there in the solitary confines of my asylum there it was, the one and only true comfort that was not judging me for the strength of the viruses I was carrying, (as long as they are not digital) but the attention I was willing to give it. My dear old Internet.
It extended my reach beyond the sewerage of the small Skåne village and there, through the delirium, came clarity; I finally understood what it must feel like to be Trump o Wilders.
Now I know what it feels to have no one around but the trusty keyboard and the shiny screen. “Let there be light; he willed it, and at once there was light. Oh, the power of the word of God!”
There it was.
Twitter! “Oh, the power of the word of God!”
A true friend. One you can share your deepest thoughts in just 140 characters, one who understands the world injustice that only a billionaire can feel, one who blesses you with parliament seats after labeling “scum” to millions of people.
These two leaders have helped me to distract my thoughts from thinking about the bravery of the act mentioned at the beginning and while doing so it all came down clear.
Big blond hair and twitter account followed by ethical and moral incapacity are more than enough to make the world realize that the reality is what your money can make.
And here we are. After many hours reflecting on life between the toilette chair and the internet I have come to the same conclusion as these two “Knights on the White Bird” that have convinced themselves and millions of others:
It’s not twisted, if it’s tweeted.
And if you don’t have cash to make your own reality, you will not be left without one. The generous contribution from the great leaders will provide you with one. Your own shitty reality.