Jour 8
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you dear H.
Happy birthday to you
Hip hip hooray
Hip hip hooray
Hip hip hooray
Clap clap clap
He sang the song out loud, to himself, celebrating his seventh year on Earth with some hairy monsters and a few dolphin poses. Some will say he needs to stay out, some will say he’s disruptive, some will say I have to start my lesson now, some will say he’s really cute, some will say aww, some will say he shouldn’t be there, some will not say, but they are scared, some will not say but I know what they want to say, some will say they couldn’t do it, some will say they wouldn’t do it, some say I do a great job. Nevertheless, he doesn’t have a choice, and the world is a tricky place to be born into. And to be fair, it’s a tricky place to be born into, for me, for my dad, for my best friend, and it looks like hell sometimes, if hell had very expensive sourdough bread and a lock that is the same for the building door and your front door. This is a true story and it has been for a year and a half now. I can already hear you – WHAT? HOW CAN YOU ALLOW THAT? YOUR NEIGHBOURS CAN ACTUALLY OPEN YOUR FRONT DOOR? Yes, they can, we tried before. We are living on edge. We are very similar to hippies in Christiana (Denmark). To be fair, people in Christiana probably all have their own individual lock. How lucky! In London you settle for whatever you are fortunate enough to have. And sometimes it’s a local pub, sometimes it’s a lock that no one else can open. You choose.