If I get there

A few days ago, I had an informal meeting with a Flemish MP. This rather simple question, spooking around in my mind for a couple of months, I had to set it free: What can I do to get involved with local government. Paraphrasing Kennedy, I thought it would be more convincing than it actually sounded. But it seems to work.

It’s a long and wobbly way of course, to finely get there, the stage where I really want to unleash my ideas and passionate love for the rational solution: at an executive cabinet. But it all starts very local – except for pretty daughters and handsome sons of powerful politicians - my father never dared to take the step and neither am i the eidolon of a young god, pity – and it’s an ordeal to survive and grow in this harsh and cruel environment. But hey, I’m young, sharp, a tiny little bit ambitious and I can take a punch or two.

So here we are then, at the gates of Ierusalem. By conquering the city, slamming down its doors, breaching through its walls on my path to glory, will I loose my honour and my faith in a better future, like so many others? Cynical because of the trying in vain, corrupt because of the irresistible smell of power. Maybe, one day, I’ll have to choose. I really hope so.