Friday, 28 December 2018
The true horror stories in modern Paris part 99
December is always the busy month but the year 2018 was crazy throughout. I was physically stressed and my soul was tested continuously. Where did it land in the end?
Mrs. Landlord sold one of her apartments to an unsuspecting couple who was in overseas. Paris is so popular that there are people who would buy a property before even looking at it. The real estate folks universally have no problems stretching facts and Paris is no exception. Is it any coincidence that the real estate women often snag unsuspecting heirs to some fortune? However, the couple who bought from Mme. Landlord was not innocent either because they immediately tried to rent the noisy apartment out without applying any insulation. I was dismayed that the trail of victims of the restaurant from Hell would continue to stretch. However, who was I to blame when I had moved out from the apartment myself? I felt dodgy as the previous tenant who washed his hands off me when he foresaw the hell to come.
Then the inspiration came to me. With Mme. Landlord out of the picture, I could move back to that the apartment above the restaurant from Hell and reinstall the advanced insulation materials from Japan. So long as I stayed there, there would be no more poor students nor young French tenants to fall victims to the devil that was greed. It was a ridiculous sacrifice that everyone would sneer at, but to me it felt right. The act would lift me out of the dire state as the victim, and then up into becoming someone who would shoulder the pain of the weak (in this case, those without the means to insulate the apartment). I refrained from using the word ‘protector’ because it would remind me of Mme. Landlord who demanded ample rewards for ‘pretending to be the protector of the weak’. I would not go down her road because I would be doing a favor to someone I would never meet. My soul would be protected from the evil of demanding gratitude.
Thus I have been extremely busy, moving back to the room above Hell, paying for some insulation work to maximize the effects of the advanced insulation materials from Japan. I still hear some noise because the brutal noise from the restaurant rendered me sensitive to noise, but it would not be a sacrifice without some pain to endure. The indifferent couple does not communicate with me directly and the real estate agent simply demands rent at the going rate of Paris. I had expected this after more than three years in Paris. Nor do I wish the restaurant from Hell to leave because those self centered people will simply go on to create another Hell elsewhere to claim more victims.
Four years ago I made a promise to myself that I would stop relying on the sunshine of tropical Australia. I hoped to shine in darkness on my own strength. I moved to Paris of more somber weather and I have been tested on so many times and so many levels. And now I am on the mission of creating a piece of Heaven above the restaurant from Hell. I shall not doom my soul to become ‘A victim-turned-predator.’
To be continued for my decision had ramifications.