I like fighting. I also like watching a fight.
This is not a fight with fists or any kind of weapon. Just an ordinary verbal attack. Whether this reflects well or badly on me is a matter of opinions and preferences. This is who I am. And I try to spend time with people who are similar and accept me. There are not many of them. Fighting with one another is unpopular. Bolesławiec is no different in this respect. Agreement that builds, mediation, diplomacy and proper relations with everyone are preferred.
However, please do not be guided by posts on any Bolesławiec portal forum. Here, verbal attacks are commonplace. Someone starts their own business, and hundreds of posts appear calling them a thief and a fraud—and those last two words are among the kindest descriptions used. Someone does something pro publico bono: they are a lunatic, and must still have a vested interest in it. One hairdresser is a slut, while at another restaurant someone spotted a worm in the soup. The virtual battle rages on—what a pleasure to read.
Malice, jibes, slander, offensive comments, venom dripping from every letter. You close the Internet, turn around, and there is not a single person behind you with a knife to stab you in the back, nor anyone holding a spoonful of water in which to drown you… The real world is full of little sheep frolicking in a flower-filled meadow. Pleasant to touch, sugary sweet to look at, they bother no one and love everyone.
Yet everyone will admit that it is impossible to love everyone. One can try to see something good in every person. A few people have managed it. Jesus, Buddha… I cannot think of anyone else.
No one likes fighting or admits to fighting. Everyone is incredibly nice to one another. But what does a nice person do when someone nevertheless attacks them? They endure it with dignity. They are above it, because, as they say in kindergarten: the truth will out.
All right, I agree. Disagreement ruins things. Fighting is destructive. But what do you say to healthy, fair competition, I ask? And then the little sheep always look at me with big, astonished eyes. In their gentle voices, they tell me that I am naive, then take off their sheep skins and go write an anonymous post on the forum.
Grażyna Hanaf