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to not remember… and not forget.

I cannot remember the holocaust for the simple reason that I was born after it was over [well, define "over", but anyway, yeah], So I guess I cannot forget it aswell. I do remember one day walking on the street with my grandfather on the way to his house. We stopped at a kiosky-like place. The man behind the counter greeted my grandfather in a very friendly way, reached out for a bag full of old bread and handed it to him. We then continued towards his house and on the way passed through a plaza where some pigeons and crows were separately walking on the sunny grass in small groups. As soon as my grandfather came close, some 48230934823 more pigeons and crows hurried to join the others – they recognized the old man and especially the bag he was holding. He then pulled some pieces of bread and distributed them equally between the crows and the pigeons. We stayed there for a while, watching them all eating and making sure the crows are not attacking the pigeons. When we came close to the house I noticed that my grandfather was still holding the bag and that it was still half full with bread. I knew the truth, I knew exactly where this old bread is going, but I had to ask him nevertheless: “Nono (this is how i call him), what do you do with the rest of the bread?” He smiled his famous half smile, that indicates a blunt lie, and said that “It’s for the birds”. I felt compelled to continue the questioning: “Nono, we just gave food for the birds, is this going to your freezer? Are you actually going to eat this? Just buy new bread!”
“I am also a bird” he answered.
h ap p y holocaust day everybody!

[btw, if someone does not want to recieve my fucked up, very frequent, undertheinfluence mails anymore, lemme know ;) .
{that DOES NOT include you, mom and dad, nor people that i know for more than 5 years, you will get them all anyway and enjoy them very much and read each one at least twice!}]
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