Part 1 - Are We Having Fun Yet
The Adventures Of Jubjub In Delulu Town - Part 1
Jubjub woke again, like he had for a few weeks in a row now. The view was nice, the smell was nice, the sound was nice, it was all just so nice. Also, people told him that. Continually. So either it was actually nice, or the crowdfunded niceness of it all was indeed taking deep effect through a systematic and comprehensive gaslighting undertaken on his psyche. He wondered when he himself would join the ranks of the nicers and corner unsuspecting travellers from the hinterland, and with soft eyes and a sincere and kind smile tell them just how nice it all was. To which the wide eyed traveller would nod enthusiastically and express generic platitudes as to how nice it all in fact was and then turn on his heel and rapidly depart to the nearest 737 heading North while frantically patting his pockets making sure that it wasn't a mugging he just experienced, and if it wasn't then why did he feel so violated. To which Jubjub would respond with a knowing smile and a congenial nod as the traveller extricated himself, because he too was once like him, he too once did not know how nice it all was.
Jubjub felt desperately ill as he lay in bed. He couldn't quite tell if it was this Ghost Of Christmas Future spectre that had greeted him this morning, or if it was the cabbage infused purple drink as a side to an equally purple burger that he agreed to wolf down so as to not appear crass or, god forbid, intolerant, at the local trendy free range establishment patronised exclusively by underage tank tops. He missed being able to order an appallingly sugary drink without people blinking an eye, or being able to sit back and let his mouth run without people trying to slink away from him or dive deep into their phones or risk the ubiquitous eyes of social big brother broadcasting their pending excommunication for allowing Jubjub's horrific words to reach their delicate ears. Jubjub was quickly learning that he was a bigot and a racist and that these were the worst things a person could be, especially in Delulu Town.
He plodded around miserably as the coffee burbled and gurgled. He stared out the window as the rays of sun began peaking over the tops of the towering clouds. That ain't bad, he thought, desperate to give credit where credit was due. He was awake before most in this town. It would be a fully two hours before the fishermen and paupers began dragging their feet to their respective charges to which they would undoubtedly seize the day with an attitude exactly unlike enthusiasm and vigour. Conceit was an unfamiliar feeling for Jubjub, but the locals made it difficult to feel anything else. He worried that he may have been abused and traumatised during his upbringing and young adult years, and that he had inadvertently been turned into a bully with a black heart lashing out at a peaceful and humble world. He was deeply concerned that he was a product of his upbringing and just couldn't explain himself in such a nice place, let alone enjoy it. Without a little adversity how can a man strive? How can a man achieve? How can a man show he is capable of overcoming the odds, of conquering his environment!?
The thoughts swirled and overwhelmed Jubjub. He shed a tear. All this competence, all this capacity, all this experience only to live in a petting zoo. He sat down. It was then that Jubjub decided, he would make it work, he would find a way. He would combine all his decades of tenacity and effort and he would double down and learn how to live. He would frolic in the fynbos, he would gasp at sunsets, he would experience people, love and hand-holding. He would do it all, and by Jove he would have fun!
The coffee stopped gurgling and Jubjub pounded his first of eight coffees for the morning.
