We are hiking in the mountains again. Beautiful nature, great scenery. Had lunch in a traditional inn in a tiny village, siting outside under flowering horse chestnut trees, swifts soared through the sky. You'd think people here would be immune to the mental illnesses the inhumane city life conjures. But on the next table was a family, parents were host's age, probably younger with a teenage daughter, about 15 I'd guess. Black hair, fake eyelashes, a bit chubby but otherwise pretty. In full goth outfit straight outta the 90s something almost vintage - or hopelessly outdated. Those were locals, lower middle class. The sort that wears T-shirts with wolves under a full moon. So far so ordinary for subhumans. But the girl, pale as a corpse, had fresh cuts all over her left arm. Obvious self-harm.
Imagine having a child like this. I mean dude! You may just wear an 'I'm a failure as a parent' shirt instead. Well, it's rather a failure of society itself. I imagined social relations still worked in the countryside but that is probably a romantic oversimplification.



Host being host imagined he could probably have fixed her if he had a chance to talk and more importantly listen to her, but I expressed my doubts. Mentally ill people are so - exhausting. It's better to stay away from them or they'll drag you down as well. I hate lunatics.