I think I found the picture I want on my tombstone.
But maybe we should start from the beginning.
COUPLE DAYS AGO
SOUTH OF GERMANY
As you probably know if you follow me on Twitter, my boyfriend and I recently took a holiday in Switzerland/South of Germany/Black Forest.
We opted for the south of Germany in particular because, apart from its beautiful nature and the fact that drinking beer for breakfast is socially acceptable, there’s a big amusement park there.
For years I’ve been lamenting the fact that Berlin has no proper amusement park, telling everybody how much I loooove roller coasters and adventurous rides (in hindsight, I must have been drunk).
So, Europa Park happened. We got there in the late morning without much preliminary research and found ourselves in front of a big, badass amusement park. The number of attractions exceeded our expectations (you need at least two days if you wanna do everything) and the theme seemed pretty well developed (each area of the park is a European country and its individual attractions are based on something connected to the country).
We decided to start with Iceland because, as you know if you’ve followed our trip, everything is calm and peaceful there.
After a 40 minute line we made it on Wodan, a wooden roller coaster that took us 40 meter high, bounced our mortal bodies here and there at unimaginable speed, twisted and turned until our organs were misplaced and finally stopped. We looked at each other trying to hold back the
– “Cool, man”
– “Yeah, man”
– “I’d say we do it again, but the line was kinda long…”
– “Yeah, super long, definitely. Better find something else”
We could have walked away from that roller coaster with our dignities intact.
We could have swallowed the secret of our fear and played it cool until the day we died.
We could have bragged about it with friends and recommended the attraction during dinners, but we hadn’t taken into account one small detail: roller coaster automatic photos. We approached the picture stand with a nervous smile, looking for our wagon on the different screens until we finally recognized our faces.
We looked like victims of multiple stabbing.
Slightly embarrassed about shitting our pants for a stupid roller coaster, we shared a look and silently decided to embrace the moment. Our emotions are what makes us human, after all, and fear is a powerful, basic human emotion that shouldn’t make us ashamed.
A sense of unity and cohesiveness suddenly warmed our hearts, knowing that in that horrible-looking captured moment we were doing exactly what our DNA programmed us to do. Our natural reaction made us one and connected us deeply to everyone else who was sitting on that very roller coaster.
Well, almost everyone.
When we were finally lucid enough to look at the whole picture, we saw him.
With his arm stretched and his thumb up, the son of the devil was smiling at the camera, calm and steady as if he was riding a very old pony.
That kid is not human. He can’t be. And if you love me I want you to start Tumblrs and reddit threads, turning him into the meme he deserves to be.
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