Opposite of the Secret

— Laser focused intention

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Same obstacles, flipped different ways. Today's pattern inspired by India Mahdavi.

On my way home, I noticed a wall of gold and white balloons. 'Oh, it's La Raclette crying for attention, again.'

"Did you see that? 'au revoir La Raclette'" My husband pointed out a sign.

I felt guilty. Did I hate a restaurant out of existence? La Raclette is a nearby restaurant I pass by daily.

'What am I going to hate when this is gone?' I was surprised how much I relied on this institution.

Night after night, they'd set their tables on the sidewalk. Fresh bouquets on white table cloths lit by candles. The restaurant looks like a nice place for a date. Most nights, it's unappetizingly empty.

Outside Friday and Saturday, no one's there. Yet, they create a daily bottle neck on the sidewalk. Sliding tables out, you can't avoid their tablescapes.

One day, I spotted a bike parked at the end of the street, a block from the restaurant. Covered in vertical stripes of blue, white and red, there was an arrow pointing to the restaurant.

There aren't that many bike racks in the neighborhood. The restaurant claimed one for themselves.

I never tried the place but I didn't think it'd be a bad restaurant. After seeing the bike, I started to think they were struggling.

'Maybe it's not so good.'

I got stuck in the rain last year and took shelter in the covered driveway next to the restaurant. The video features a few shots of the flower and tables.

The following week, I spotted another bike. A second bike, painted with the French flag, was locked to the bridge.

'Wow. They really are desperate.'

The bridge is where everyone hangs out and has a drink. There's limited space for people to sit and look at the water. It's a place where no one locks their bike for longer than a few hours.

The following day, someone flipped the locked bike over the bridge railing. None of the details advertising the restaurant were visible. It feels good knowing others dislike what you dislike.

When I spotted a third bike on another rack, I felt a moral obligation to hate the place.

Everyday, when I passed the restaurant, I'd throw shade at it. I don't know if they're actually closing, but a secret part of me would like to think I targeted my hate in making the world a better place.

It seems to be a strategy many are using: hate something out of existence. Don't like a boss or president? Maybe if you hate it enough, it'll go away...

Although I find myself making fun of people who use such strategies, I'm guilty of the same. Perhaps it's a mechanism of identifying oneself as a 'good guy'. Good guys need villains.

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My desire to be an enigma

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