Apr. 4th, 2010

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Met R. and went to see the Kontroverse photography exhibition, which managed to be at once depressing and not very interesting overall, throwing together (IMO) too many different subjects from copyright and plagiarism issues to ghost/fairy photo fakes to nudity to photos from the death camps to Stalinist photo manipulation to 9/11 under the name of controversy. Had coffee in the garden, whined at her about how depressing I thought my life was, wah. So maybe it was poetic justice that the movie she picked for us to watch was Precious, at the end of which I was feeling nauseous and shaken and at a loss for words and dragged R. outside and into the Stadtpark because I needed sunshine and fresh air. Of course I do realise this is a completely ridiculous and self-indulgent reaction, because I can go and look at the flowers and then return to a life where I haven't been raped and physically and mentally abused by my own parents for the first sixteen years of it, leaving me with two children, HIV, and little else.

So, yeah.



Then, walking home, I saw one of the horse-drawn carriages for tourists racing (presumably, judging from the direction) home across the Schwarzenbergplatz without a driver, which went well until it came to a red traffic light with a car already stopping there. The left horse reared, smashing the car's rear window, the other must have tried to escape to the right onto the pavement; the left horse had some cuts on the chest and neck (but, as far as I could see, at least not on the legs), the right was unhurt, but still very spooked. Helped to hold it with another Fiaker-driver who happened to be there, until the police and the carriage's driver arrived, but didn't stay longer because there were already too many people crowding around anyway (hysterically yelling about bandages for a horse that most definitely isn't bleeding to death while the other horse is still spooked and half-harnessed to a carriage is not helping, lady *sigh*) and to be perfectly honest I wasn't too keen to learn whether the horse that had gone through the car's window was more hurt than it looked like at first, and what was going to happen to it.


Strange day.

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March 2013

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