My parents never went away on holidays or anything. Everyone went abroad, we stayed put. So I explored the neighborhood all on my own and one day I came across, what looked like, an enormous wilderness smack dab in the middle of my hometown. It was in fact an old city park called Westerhout (created in 1726). It was only 16 hectares, which is roughly 22 soccer fields or 29 American football fields. Bigger than my garden, but smaller than the Amazon jungle. Funny you mentioned the Amazon, man, because I was pretty convinced that the Amazons, the Warrior Women of the ancient world, lived in this man-made jungle somewhere. So I went off the paths and into the trees in the hope that they would capture me and keep me as their slave. Each day I went home disappointed, but the next day I was back. And the next … and the day after that. I wanted it so badly and I was willing to give my life (or toys, maybe that’s more realistic) trying to achieve it. Poor, poor, silly me. I didn’t know the difference between a park, a forest and a jungle, but I did know that Women were superior and that I was born to submit myself to their will. The park still exists, but the Amazons left a long time ago.
I think.

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