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The irrelevance of these splurges of my old pain

Over the course of our French years pervertedness has become our widely used noun to purvey mental substance to the excess we are so randomly exposed to, both intentional and unpremeditated, referring to the feeling of either delight or disgust it invokes, mostly depending on the fairness and beauty of its emotional residue.

The word still very much resonates our extravagant experiences being part of the entourage of the local chatelaine, who according to a recent CNN article about her fluttery escapades since has become a YouTube sensation by filming the lives of the people around her, mostly volunteers she has attracted to her chateau to fulfill her decadent desires and hedonistic lifestyle, a completely conceivable and catchy escape route to embark on for so many who found themselves confined to their apartments because of the global pandemic. The authority she has created by ‘just spreading joy’ is as impressive and admirable as it is reprehensible, exposed even more by the additional channel she started entirely devoted to unwrapping the precious gifts she receives unsolicited from fans all over the world, donating the revenues from adds to charity, bless her heart.

Had I not known her personally, I for sure would have been very vocal about this contumacious carbuncle, being the born moral knight I choose to portray, but my past involvement with everything related to the intrigues of this chateau, reaching far beyond the moral boundaries I so shamefully ignored, not only dissolves my inclination to speak out but takes away any claim I might think I have on it.

We moved on by steadfastly changing our course towards Les Pierres, significantly smaller but as perverted in its bare beauty, with its singular downside of being just a stone’s throw away from that perpetual party scene, invoking these recurring confrontations due to her omnipresence we try to ignore with only varying degrees of success.

The irrelevance of these splurges of old immaterial pain, perchance not yet adequately addressed by myself or others involved, is thrown at me with a comparable intractable incentive when I’m engulfed by all my eyes can see, all that’s fair and beautiful.

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