We want to be free to pee!

- The freedom to speak up, to dance and to pee in public -

There’s a freedom of speech where you’re allowed to speak up. Where you spill your heart and put yourself in an awkward position, namely crouched.

If Phara can remember what happened last Saturday night, you’ll get a overview of the night at Petrol Club. She’ll give you a neat account of the bands and the Brodinski’s DJ-set. I’d like to take you to the moment when the Black Box Revelation singer’s body was the target of Phara’s little grabby hands. The first sign we were unto a night of freedom of intoxication . It’s an unwritten rule that you can’t let a friend dance drunk by herself, so grateful for the opportunity I dived into the liquid sea. Quite obvious what happens next: some wine and Corona flowing down the pharynx (and on to the floor) and before you know it, it’s inevitably high tide. It doesn’t take a sober mind to figure out that 5 trips to the ladies room equals another glass of wine, so muttering you hand over €0,50 and there it is: the First Fatal Pee. The first of many more to come. By the time you leave the club your body doesn’t want to stop the flow and decides it’s time for yet another sequel. You’re lucky, this time containers protect you from keen eyes. But there were days when you walked around at 4AM in some city centre and there wasn’t a single toilet around. Days when you crouched next to a van. Days when you pulled your trousers up and you suddenly saw that there were men sitting in that van. Days when you wished you were a bloke and you could write your name in the snow.

I would write poems about lost love in the snow.

As long as I can’t write my poems, I assign myself the privilege to pee behind corners, underneath the streetlightning and next to a van. And in the meantime I’ll admire artists who assign themselves the privilege to exploit the freedom of speech.

Andres Serrano, an American photographer, is known for his controversial works. His pictures often involve bodily fluids: (menstrual) blood, semen or mother’s milk. His most famous (and controversial) work is “Piss Christ” (1987), a photograph of a plastic crucifix in a glass of the artist’s own, indeed, piss.

…Christ gets the juices flowing…