Snake Pit

Slash 1995, French interview about his band Slash’s Snake Pit
This is a letter to my creativity coach Sara
Before our coaching call, I always give her a headsup.
Dear Sara,
My Miami Vice DVD box just arrived.
5 Seasons all neatly packed up into one box, which was by the way far sturdier than the reviews at the site were accusing it to be.
Either the packaging was changed or the people who had bits flying around didn’t understand the mechanism.
Which may be a nice metaphor for me or life itself:
If you have bits flying around, you don’t understand how it works.
But either way I have the entire Miami Vice body of work here at my fingertips, and it will get me through quarantine, just like others get through it with more modern media.
I got the discs out in one piece but I have plenty of bits flying around in other places.
And the title got me thinking:
Miami Vice
The definitive collection.
And that it’s so easy to appreciate something once you know the ending.
It’s a lot more difficult if you’re working with the indefinite collection.
Such as your life.
Only last Thursday, I cancelled my work, my writing under the name LS Harteveld.
What I basically did was bring her to 1995, where she will pick up diary writing as a 22 year old Lauren.
That is her project.
Like a performance art project.
I m still not sure if it will be blogged immediately, here at the blog.
Or if it won’t come out until this age of C. is over.
Until it is safe to tell the story of how I spend my days, without people unconsciously checking which part is true, which is fiction, and if I m a responsible citizen.
I don’t know what the rules are where you live, or how you interpret them, but I understand them here, as not being allowed to touch a man unless I m married to him or live together.
I just tried to comment on that but when I opened my mouth only snakes, frogs and black tar came out.
That’s how toxic I feel.
How repressed.
How angry.
So it’s back to cornerstones of society, marriages and “households”. You can have sex if you are a household.
It’s like we’re back in the 50’s Sara.
I heard they brought the term “head of the family” back in America.
My father used to speak of himself that way, in third person. And it was A JOKE!
And ultimately it’s all for our own good, how patronizing.
All that freedom we fought for, ever since the 60s.
All that economic freedom we created, so many entrepreneurs who will be wiped away in one lock down.
What will unemployment be in 3 months?
I m shocked by how easy it is to get your population docile and obedient. And I don’t even think it’s conscious, really.
I don’t believe there is some master plan or rising dictator behind all this.
I think everybody is so afraid, firstly, of their own death.
But this goes further, it is a two-puncher:
First you are confronted with your own mortality.
And then you’re knocked out by being made responsible for the death of others.
It would take a professional fighter to counterattack that and to immediately strike back.
The only reason we are so obedient is because C. does not have a face. C. is not a foreign dictator.
But is there not something inherently wrong with giving up your freedom to begin with? 
I find the willingness with which we comply, and that absolutely includes my own, absolutely shocking.
That no political party in the Netherlands, no political party anywhere, has asked:
“Where are our boundaries? When will we stop being so reactive?”
I ve always thought that if a war came, I would be too afraid to join the resistance.
So in a way my own docile behavior disgusts me, yet I knew this was me.
That I would never stand up for freedom.
But now we have all these countries, an entire world, who say that we save the world by staying indoors and destroying our economy, demonize human touch.
Then what world are we saving?
Why does no one ask, where we are going to stop?
It scares me.
God damn this entire letter is 100% not what I intended to write.
I m sorry.
I guess it comes out, the way it comes out. Just like it always has.
But what I wanted to say is this:
Last Thursday I moved to 1995. And I have arrived safely.
Today I went back to 2020, to pick up the rest of me. Because as it turns out, there wasn’t any part of me that was willing to stay in a country, a time, ruled by fear. 
All my creative outlets will be written from 1995, for as long as this goes on.
Maybe that is my message to the world, maybe that is what I realize true freedom is:
People can tell you what to do.
They can keep you from speaking your truth as well.
But no one can ever tell you what to think.
The freedom of thought, of where you give your attention to, and what you are completely going to ignore for example by going to 1995 and leave the empty shell of your quarantined body behind;
That freedom is entirely yours.

the writer formerly known as
~Lauren/LS Harteveld



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