A strange song reaches me* from the computer used by a mentally
disturbed woman who is sitting next to me. She keeps talking to herself, making occasional angry hisses
and burping. Then she goes quiet, lulled into peace by that
strange song. Her phone rings and instead of a nutter I hear a composed woman and a perfectly coherent conversation regarding a favour and the settling a small debt. After she hangs up,
she goes back to recreational burping and relaxed watching whatever she’s watching. I can't help but take a peep at what’s going
on in her little corner of the virtuality: there, hordes of uniformed
women march across what looks like Tiananmen Sq in Beijing – and sing the
exotically serene song in a far-away language and, for a mentally disturbed moment, I feel like joining in.
It's a funny world.
It's a funny world.
*in the local central library that offers a faster internet
connection than my dongle (I mean the T-Mobile one.)
