kennt jemand diesen Autor?
Verfasst: Mi, 05. Sep 2012, 16:04
eigentlich kein Autor, er ist 2006 in die USA ausgewandert? Wer hat Kontakte. Ich fands bei Reddit und dort ist aber kein Kontakt auszumachen.
ALBANIA (Urheber noch unbekannt)
SHORT STORY
I grew up on a farm in rural Albania. When I say rural and I say Albania in one sentence, then you know what kind of god forgotten mountains and organic food before organic became a marketing trick and no electricity until the 90's you have to imagine.
Good.
2006 we were 17 people in our village (that was when I left. During my childhood it was around 40). We had sheep, cows, goats, carrots and all that shit, and dogs actually did chase the cats, but the cats beat the living shit out of the dogs every . time.
We lived from the land and the land was good to us, we all had big hands.
There were no real roads to come up there. With real I understand the dipshit concrete roads your ass is used to. I know of one single map that has the name of our village in it. If you wanted to come visit, you needed to know exactly how to find us. Helicopter would be the best vehicle to do so. If you didn't know how to find us, you got lost and then you got eaten by something either too big for you or too many. You walked 2 1/2 hours to the next phone.
Once in a while someone would come from the city. When there were elections for example. They would tell the villagers what to vote but they never did vote, they said, we don't know this politician, who is this? Do you want Raki?
There was no mayor. There was one guy kind of in charge, he had a son in the city and this guy organized for us a doctor or stuff we sometimes needed for daily use, like screwdrivers and once, I remember, a shower gel for someone. When he took a bath we all went to see.
None of us was religious in any way. Why? No one raised us up to be. My parents and their parents parents. We were not even atheists, we were nothing actually, we pretty much would have not known that a concept of god existed if we did not see the church in the city and did not ask wtf that was. I went to school, I was alone, the school was our kitchen and my mother was my teacher. She herself went to school to learn to read and write and then she had to quit because her parents told her, after you know how to read and write you can learn everything else by yourself.
I once witnessed a fight between two men in their 60. The fight was about some cows going somewhere they shouldn't. One guy repeatedly told the other guy not to let his cows go there where his shit was. But the guy or the cows repeatedly did not listen.
They could not settle the fight so all the others were called to be judges. The first guy said that the cows from the second guy were destroying his garden and eating there and shitting there, but the latter was not that big of a deal.
The other guy said that he tried keeping the cows closed, and that they always managed to escape somehow. So it was not his fault. The guy "in charge" then demanded to see how the cows escaped. And so the next morning when it was the time for the cow to go have breakfast, we all walked to the other guys meadows. The cows were behind a fence, still sleeping. I was allowed to throw stones at them until they woke up. At some point they did. Cows are beautiful after they wake up. There are two "doors" in the fence, one towars the meadows of the second guy, the other towards us - the village and the first guy's garden.
So this one cow walks up to this second door which is secured with an iron lock of sorts - mechanical thingy thet needs to be pulled in order to release the grip, and also this needs to be done from outside because that is where the lock is.
And that crazy motherfucker of an intelligent cow is tall enough to reach over the "door" and that is what she does. And then she starts licking the little mechanism with her heavy tongue, slowly - centimeter by centimeter - moving it out of the grip; until it opens. With the wet beautiful nose of hers she then pushes the door open and walks out, the other cows galloping slowly behind her.
You can imagine the looks on our faces as the cows walked past by the whole crew.
So here is a question for you:
Why can't we all be like Morgan Freeman?
ALBANIA (Urheber noch unbekannt)
SHORT STORY
I grew up on a farm in rural Albania. When I say rural and I say Albania in one sentence, then you know what kind of god forgotten mountains and organic food before organic became a marketing trick and no electricity until the 90's you have to imagine.
Good.
2006 we were 17 people in our village (that was when I left. During my childhood it was around 40). We had sheep, cows, goats, carrots and all that shit, and dogs actually did chase the cats, but the cats beat the living shit out of the dogs every . time.
We lived from the land and the land was good to us, we all had big hands.
There were no real roads to come up there. With real I understand the dipshit concrete roads your ass is used to. I know of one single map that has the name of our village in it. If you wanted to come visit, you needed to know exactly how to find us. Helicopter would be the best vehicle to do so. If you didn't know how to find us, you got lost and then you got eaten by something either too big for you or too many. You walked 2 1/2 hours to the next phone.
Once in a while someone would come from the city. When there were elections for example. They would tell the villagers what to vote but they never did vote, they said, we don't know this politician, who is this? Do you want Raki?
There was no mayor. There was one guy kind of in charge, he had a son in the city and this guy organized for us a doctor or stuff we sometimes needed for daily use, like screwdrivers and once, I remember, a shower gel for someone. When he took a bath we all went to see.
None of us was religious in any way. Why? No one raised us up to be. My parents and their parents parents. We were not even atheists, we were nothing actually, we pretty much would have not known that a concept of god existed if we did not see the church in the city and did not ask wtf that was. I went to school, I was alone, the school was our kitchen and my mother was my teacher. She herself went to school to learn to read and write and then she had to quit because her parents told her, after you know how to read and write you can learn everything else by yourself.
I once witnessed a fight between two men in their 60. The fight was about some cows going somewhere they shouldn't. One guy repeatedly told the other guy not to let his cows go there where his shit was. But the guy or the cows repeatedly did not listen.
They could not settle the fight so all the others were called to be judges. The first guy said that the cows from the second guy were destroying his garden and eating there and shitting there, but the latter was not that big of a deal.
The other guy said that he tried keeping the cows closed, and that they always managed to escape somehow. So it was not his fault. The guy "in charge" then demanded to see how the cows escaped. And so the next morning when it was the time for the cow to go have breakfast, we all walked to the other guys meadows. The cows were behind a fence, still sleeping. I was allowed to throw stones at them until they woke up. At some point they did. Cows are beautiful after they wake up. There are two "doors" in the fence, one towars the meadows of the second guy, the other towards us - the village and the first guy's garden.
So this one cow walks up to this second door which is secured with an iron lock of sorts - mechanical thingy thet needs to be pulled in order to release the grip, and also this needs to be done from outside because that is where the lock is.
And that crazy motherfucker of an intelligent cow is tall enough to reach over the "door" and that is what she does. And then she starts licking the little mechanism with her heavy tongue, slowly - centimeter by centimeter - moving it out of the grip; until it opens. With the wet beautiful nose of hers she then pushes the door open and walks out, the other cows galloping slowly behind her.
You can imagine the looks on our faces as the cows walked past by the whole crew.
So here is a question for you:
Why can't we all be like Morgan Freeman?