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(292) Goéland



I’ve spent about 7 years in the suburbs—but I’ll leave soon. I noticed that people in suburbs are much more unpleasant than in big cities—I’ve had more trouble here from aggressive and rude people than I ever had in London. The reason people are angry in the suburbs is that they’re very afraid—anger stems from fear: they’re afraid because they’re middle class, so everything depends on reputation and perception for them (and both are easily spoiled)—they have wealth but they’re not super-rich, it could be taken from them. Therefore, afraid; therefore, angry.


The women don’t have enough to do to keep them busy, either—and that’s the same for the men to an extent. Because they’re not kept busy, they’re nosey and resentful. They spend all their time comparing themselves to other people—assessing whether or not you have a Tesla yet—and, again, it’s about perception. Have I created the right impression? That also causes fear—have I kept up? That also causes anger. It’s the environment of sniping and bitching and WhatsApp groups for the cul-de-sac. It’s “I’m going to report you”. Ugh.


As I walked home today, I saw a man peer round his front garden hedge and it made me chuckle to myself—here was this pale white ape making a cautious assessment from its territory. What did it think? Probably, as it looked at me, “Does he fit in? Can I report him? Can I complain about him?”. Perhaps a woman photographed me with her phone from her window and sent the image to her WhatsApp group—“He’s at it again”. What? Existing. To exist is to make these people afraid—they’re afraid of everything, then they’re angry with you. Sure, in London black men would piss against cars outside my window and the Muslims would blow themselves up and other black men would open and close flick knives in front of me on the tube. Yet it was almost heroic, never really miserable.

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