Not today. This morning I decided to take it with me to the underground. But I wasn’t so brave to walk around with it in its see-through bag, so I put the bag into another, darker bag. It was there, still warm, but no one knew. Which really is what happens in big cities, or maybe even in life in general. We travel so close to each other, our bodies often touching, yet most of the time we have no idea what goes through other people’s minds. Or what kind of shit just happened to them. Maybe that sad person is sad because their cat died only the night before. Or maybe they just need someone to tell them to cheer up because they’re still alive at least.
You don’t know which kind of shit people around you are going through or which kind of shit they had to go through at some point in their life that has made them become the way they are now. We are all damaged, one way or another. Some more than others. We should really try be more gentle to each other.
PS: After taking the picture I went to throw the bag of the bag of shit in the bin. But because Kings X is so heavily policed, I started worrying that one of the policemen watched me take a picture of my little goodie bag, then walk back to throw it in the bin and concluded I was involved in some form of terrorism. Although probably a white woman wearing a white fur coat is not considered a suspect. But you never know. #policestateinducedparanoia.