WHO KILLED THE KING OF THE SUBWAY?

08.07.04

Have you been in the new carriages of the subway? They are white, pure white. They remind of moving airport halls. Bright signs that are going to be very useful to those with hearing problems hang from their ceiling. Among other things, there is an innovation in all new trains as regards the prospect. Every carriage is connected to the other exactly as in the past, with the difference that there are no dividing doors between carriages. You can just take a look along the line of the corridor and thus see even the last passenger sitting there calmly precisely because he/she didn’t come to realize that he is being watched by a worrier like me.

Upon every turn, the metal creaks and the train is suddenly shaken. It could be said that this train is another great technological accomplishment in the service of the citizens. It is ultra-modern, faster and definitely more flashy. Or not? This whole whiteness gets on your nerves. It forces you to remember something from the room of a hospital, making you suspicious of the form of the new aesthetics as they are evident in every corner of the city, either in internal or in external spaces.

The whole scene brought something from London’s subway to my mind, with the difference that everything here is squeaky clean. This is definitely pleasant. What upsets me is everything impersonal and colourless that accompanies me down there. And it’s something else as well. Those ultra-modern trains don’t have any ramps, neither in the front nor in the back exits. I tried to get out on the platform and I suddenly stuck on the gap. Someone pushed me out at the last minute before doors could smash me for good. Do you understand how I felt? Until now, I was feeling (and I really was) autonomous when moving there.

I was the king of the subway. People came to ask me for directions. They waited for me to show them the routes and send them to their destination. It felt great to be able to be useful to those people, even when I expressed my curses every time I saw them (and I still do, unfortunately) rush to the lift in a mob, while they are perfectly able to drag their feet and use the escalators.

There is no doubt that someone threw the crown from my head and made me feel like a beggar. In my opinion, it is not that tragic to ask for help but it’s a thousand times better to do everything by yourself when you can (this reminds me of yesterday’s posts). So how dare they deprive me from the joy of independence? In the shape of what sort of innovation did they decide to destroy those ramps that cost nothing in the end?

My friends, I am ashamed of confessing that but I didn’t manage to resist the temptation: I turned my head to the camera, smiled ironically and slowly stretched out my middle finger. I whispered this new popular tune from ‘Archive’. Fabulous. Without words.

THAT’S HOW THINGS ARE

I am so glad that I don’t end up speaking all by myself. Yes, you are absolutely right, and mostly you, Papillon, to say what you say. What I decided is something that I should have decided a long time ago but I disagree with you, Dada. I never took advantage of any kind of mercy. I don’t give any right to the others to feel sorry for me and I am really a hundred percent sure that they have understood this completely. What I didn’t take into account –this was my mistake and I admit that- is that this procedure might tire them out.
I made this judgment based on the example of myself, knowing that I would give this help to anybody who would expect it from me.

I am letting you know that one of my colleagues misunderstood this and stopped talking to me, because I don’t ask her to accompany me to the loo any more.
As for transfering the wheelchair from the car and vice versa, what we came up with was no kind of solution whatsoever. My mother takes me, a 25-year-old grown man, to work, do you call this a solution? To put it simply, given birth to me and won a draw that I wish she hadn’t won; neither her nor anybody else. I look for a more creative job anyway, because I’m not fond of being secretary, but I haven’t had any chance yet. If you know any ads company, any radio station or any newspaper whose offices are close to my place and who ask for young employees that are going to be paid of course, let me know, because I haven’t come across anything like that.
Good night. I will try to sleep. I have to go to work tomorrow.
Thanks for the contribution.