Sitting in the cool evening air of late summer, Kirstenbosch wafting past and the merry wine fuelled chatter humming all around me, I came to a crisp conclusion, we’re bored. Tedium has found us, collectively. So much so that we’ll take this strange edifice up on its offer to watch a film outside. I call it strange because we seem to have capitalized on the one thing one shouldn’t, nature. We’ve cordoned off a piece of natural beauty and put a cover charge at the door. Last I checked we didn’t need to pay to look at a tree or smell a flower. Those experiences are so utterly pointless in themselves that I don’t mind people paying for them, part of the mysterious joys of living in a capitalist society, we get to watch people waste money. But it’s the principle of the thing, despite how childlike and irrelevant trying to enjoy yourself outside is. Of course I’m suffering from some agoraphobic developmental setback, but this is how I cope with my problems.
Luckily for racists in Cape Town poor people are often black, all they need to do is spend money to get into places and the divide remains intact. Of course times are changing, poverty has embraced everyone, but the obvious class/race congruence remains here. I saw it there, I’ll see it when I walk out of my cave tonight and again tomorrow when I wake up. It’s everywhere and it’s upsetting and decidedly uncharming.
That’s why I felt bored, pissy samey versions of the same middle class animal on the up or down swing. Silly little automatons, marching to the necessitous beat.
Silly fuckers, all of us, we’re lost in a sea of obscurity and I don’t know if we’ll find relevance again. This is how we spend our time.
Silly us, silly, silly us.
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