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Queen B

Past snippets of grown up conversations start to echo louder and louder in my head since I’ve turned 30. “You can’t do that at this age. / One should have learnt that by now. / But is that really you? / At some point you just have to arrive where you want to be.”

What the fuck does that mean?

Arriving – a concept I’ve ever only understood in the literal sense of coming to a certain point in the course of travel. You want to fly from A to B, once you’ve made it to B, you arrived. Simple, right. But what if B is you? Just to make it more fun and because I can, let’s call her Queen B.

Who is Queen B? What does she want? She is a queen (obviously), so she is probably somewhere protected, in a safe place. She is maybe older, has experience and I’m just going to say it: she has wisdom. Basically like a shiny Gandalf. Speaking of shiny, she is most certainly wealthy. She has people around her who know her and her deepest secrets well, e.g. that she is actually farting. She doesn’t need to try hard, not for anyone else. She had her fair share, made her decisions, her mistakes. I mean who sits on that throne and wears a crown, right?

I guess ‘arriving’ could mean that you are in a protected place within you, you feel safe with being you. To arrive you need to have your fair share in life, make decisions that will contour you as a human being. And we all know a good travel experience always has a fucking mountain part that makes you rethink your love of nature. But after you climbed that motherfucker and after you fell on your face myriad times and after the scars healed, you start to see the sun again, you can feel the warmth again. There is nothing better to experience than to feel. These are the moments that make you rich and make you realise you only have to try hard for yourself. Because sharing secrets with loved ones is scarily easy. As well as farting in the presence of each other. And sometimes you get lucky and someone puts you on a throne and gives you a crown.

Is that what arriving means? Let’s meet when we’re 90, Queen B.

 

*Yep, that’s a Christmas tree and a cat tree in one picture.

** Yep, yep that’s a Grissini in my hand.

Post from: 25.02.2017
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